path: root/60774-0.txt

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 60774 ***

Transcriber's note:

Obvious printer errors have been corrected. Hyphenation has been
rationalised. Inconsistent spelling (including accents and capitals) has
been retained.

Small capitals have been replaced by full capitals. Italics are
indicated by _underscores_. Transliterated Greek is indicated by
+plus signs+.

Running headers, at the top of each right-hand page, have been converted
into Sidenotes and moved in front of the paragraphs to which they refer.

The anchor for Footnote 615 is missing and has been inserted at a likely
position.




 THE
 REFORMATION IN EUROPE
 IN THE TIME OF CALVIN.

 VOL. III.

 LONDON
 PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO.
 NEW-STREET SQUARE

 HISTORY
 OF
 THE REFORMATION IN EUROPE
 IN THE TIME OF CALVIN.

 BY J. H. MERLE D'AUBIGNÉ, D.D.

 AUTHOR OF THE
 'HISTORY OF THE REFORMATION OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY' ETC.

 'Les choses de petite durée ont coutume de devenir fanées, quand elles
 ont passé leur temps.

 'Au règne de Christ, il n'y a que le nouvel homme qui soit florissant,
 qui ait de la vigueur, et dont il faille faire cas.'

 CALVIN.

 VOL. III.
 FRANCE, SWITZERLAND, GENEVA.

 LONDON:
 LONGMAN, GREEN, LONGMAN, ROBERTS, & GREEN.
 1864.




PREFACE.


The time at which this volume appears would seem to require a few words
of introduction.

A day which closes a great epoch in the history of modern times, will
soon be called to the remembrance of Protestant Christians. The
registers of the Consistory of Geneva for the year 1564, bear under the
name of Calvin these simple words:

_Allé à Dieu le Sabmedy 27 de May, entre huit et neuf heures du soir._[1]

The author of this volume, having been invited by the Evangelical
Alliance to deliver an address on _The Reformation and the Reformer of
Geneva_, during the Œcumenical Conference held at Geneva in September,
1861, observed, in the course of his preparatory work, this important
date, and proposed to the assembly that on the tercentenary of the
Reformer's death, Geneva and the Reformed Churches in general, should
return thanks publicly to God that he had raised up John Calvin in the
sixteenth century, to labour at the reformation of the Church, by
re-establishing Holy Scripture as the supreme authority, and grace as
the only means of salvation. The members of the Conference, about two
thousand in number, adopted the resolution by acclamation.[2]

As Christian Protestants were preparing to celebrate the anniversary,
the author desired to contribute something according to his ability
towards reviving the memory of the great doctor. Almost at the very time
when the idea of this Protestant festival occurred to his mind, he
proposed to describe in a special work, _The Reformation of Europe in
the time of Calvin_. Having published the first two volumes more than a
year ago, he looked forward to issuing another before the 27th May, and
he now presents it to the public. May it occupy its humble place among
the memorials destined to commemorate the Lord's work.

The persecuting jesuitry of the seventeenth century, and the superficial
incredulity of the eighteenth, have calumniated the great Reformer of
the West. Times have changed, and the nineteenth century is beginning to
do him justice. His works, even those still in manuscript, are sought
after and published; his life and character, his theology and influence,
are the object of numerous studies which in general bear the stamp of
fairness; and even distinguished painters have found the subject of
their finest pictures in his life.

We entertain no blind admiration for him. We know that he has sometimes
used bitter language. We acknowledge that, sharing in the faults of his
century, or rather of ten centuries, he believed that whatever infringed
on the respect due to God ought to be punished by the civil power, quite
as much as anything that might be injurious to the honour or the life of
man. We deplore this error. But how can any one study with discernment
the Reformer's letters and other writings, and not recognise in him one
of the noblest intelligences, one of the most elevated minds, one of the
most affectionate hearts, and in short, one of those true Christian
souls who unreservedly devote themselves to duty? An eminent scholar,
whom Scotland still laments—Dr. Cunningham, the successor of
Chalmers—said, in a work published a short time before his death,
'Calvin is the man who, next to St. Paul, has done most good to mankind.'

No doubt he will always have his enemies. A journal of high character
and great circulation in Germany, speaking of a libel (_Schmæhschrift_
is the word used), published some time ago against Calvin, asks 'From
what camp does it proceed—from jesuitical Romanism or atheistical
libertinism?' It is, indeed, from these quarters that the enemies of the
Reformer principally come; but we acknowledge that a man may be opposed
to Calvin, and yet not belong to either of these schools.

Let us not disquiet ourselves, however, about such attacks; Calvin's
Master has said, _If they do these things in a green tree, what shall be
done in the dry?_[3]

The author of the present volume thinks that the best way of doing
justice to his memory, is to make him known. The reader will meet in
this work with many sayings and doings of this great man, which are not
to be found in other histories. If a writer had the good fortune to lay
before the German public some unknown trait of Luther's life, all
Germany would be taken up with it. Shall we be more indifferent to the
life of our great Reformer? Certainly there are more striking actions in
the life of Luther, who so easily gains possession of our hearts; but we
may ask whether there are not features in the life of Calvin, which are
less frequent in that of the Wittemberg doctor; the manner, for
instance, in which the young doctor of Noyon, wherever he happens to be
(at Angoulême, Poitiers, &c.), is at once surrounded by distinguished
men, whom he wins over to the truth?

The author desires, however, to remind some of his readers, that this
book is not the history of Calvin. The title expresses that clearly
enough: _History of the Reformation_ IN EUROPE _in the time of Calvin_.
It is the second series of a work of which the _History of the
Reformation of the Sixteenth Century_, was the first. The reformation of
the Western nations, of which Calvin was the soul, having a special
character, we thought it our duty to devote a special work to it; but we
shall not confine ourselves to relating the facts of the Reformation in
which Calvin took a direct part. One portion of the fourth volume will
describe the Reformation in England, from the fall of Wolsey. We purpose
also to continue retracing the leading features of the Reformation in
Germany, as we have already done in the first two volumes of this work,
in which the alliance of Smalkalde, the peace of Nuremberg, the
emancipation of Wurtemberg, and other analogous events have found their
place.[4] It is the Reformation as a whole which the author desires to
delineate.

After speaking of France and Calvin, the author relates, in the present
volume, facts which concern Latin Switzerland (Suisse Romande), the
Waldensian villages of Piedmont, and finally Geneva.

He does not think it proper to pass by unnoticed certain reproaches
which the first two volumes have brought upon him. 'It is a strange
idea,' some have said, 'to devote so much space to Geneva. Is it not
doing too much honour to a little city of a few thousand souls? History
requires great people and mighty personages. We meet with these at least
around Luther; but in Geneva, we find none but humble syndics and petty
citizens.'

True, it is so. In this part of our history we have to deal with a
little city and a little people; and even in this democratic age, there
are persons who will put up with nothing but electors and kings. May we
be permitted to reply that what is small, as regards outward
appearances, is sometimes important as regards moral influence. This is
a truth often reverted to in Holy Scripture: _The ships, though they be
so great, yet are they turned about with a very small helm_.[5]

This portion of our narrative contains two parts: one is devoted to a
man—Calvin; the other to a city—Geneva. These two existences seem in the
eyes of many persons to evolve separately, as if they were never to
meet. But there is a close relation between them: from the very
beginning they are destined to unite. Each is energetic, though without
parade, and their alliance will in some future day double their
strength. When Calvin and Geneva are one, many men and nations will feel
their powerful and salutary influence. It is a marriage that will
produce a numerous and active posterity. Whatever the friends of worldly
greatness may say, this union, when it took place, was an event of more
importance to the human race, than that which led a panegyrist of
Louis XIV. to exclaim, in reference to a celebrated event—

  Les Bourbons, ces enfants des dieux,
  Unissent leurs tiges fécondes![6]

The idea expressed above will not be generally accepted. The smallness
of the scene which it unfolds will prevent the second work from
interesting so much as the first. And yet there have been critics who
have felt the importance of the history of Geneva. May we be permitted
to give a few examples?

The _London Review_ says: 'For the narrowness of the field—a small
city—the variety of characters presented may well astonish us. The
dew-drop is big enough to hold an image of the heavens and earth; and a
city closely studied mirrors an empire. The story is crowded with
incidents and surprises, with heroic deeds and endurance, and also with
foul deeds and shames.' Some reviewers have gone so far as to place the
facts of the second work above those of the first. The _New York
Observer_ says: 'The story of the times in which the Swiss Reformation
was wrought is surrounded with a sublimity, romantic grandeur, and
interest that attach to no part of the great German movement under
Luther.'

We omit the remarks of other journals, particularly of the _Saturday
Review_, which rejoices to see 'the Genevese champions of liberty
brought to light.' We must, however, quote one more, the _Patriot_,
which says: 'Geneva is one of the smallest and one of the most heroic
cities of Europe. Had it been predicted, its history would have been
incredible. Geneva defied not only the Duke of Savoy and the Pope, but
the Emperor Charles V., and dared also his scarcely less powerful rival
Francis I.; and in spite of them all it won, first, its political and
then its religious liberties, and not for itself only but for Northern
Europe. More than once it was the Thermopylæ of Protestantism and
freedom, bravely held by an heroic little band scarcely more in
comparison with those who sought to destroy them than the three hundred
men of Leonidas in comparison with the Persians.'

But if the opinions of some were favourable to the little city, the
criticisms of others were not so; and as the author will again speak of
Geneva in this volume, and (God willing) in others, he desires to say a
word of explanation with reference to these objections.

If the work is found uninteresting, the fault must be ascribed to the
historian, not to the history. The talent of one of the great masters of
history would have prevented all reproach; but the workman damaged the
work. Can the present generation have become so fastidious as to cease
to feel interest in what is great and beautiful of itself, and to need
all the refinements of style in order to revive its morbid tastes?

Geneva is a republic, and this, perhaps, may also have told against our
narrative. Some persons have fancied that when the author spoke of
liberty, he meant liberty in the republican form alone, and that may
have displeased them. But that is a mistake; the author has always had
in view that constitutional liberty which includes all modern liberties,
and not any particular form of it. He even believes that the monarchical
form is the most favourable to the liberties of a great nation. It has
been his lot to see side by side, a republic without liberty and a
monarchy in which all were free.

The coldness, however, of some readers for the annals of a little
people, proceeds in the main from another cause. There are in reality
two histories: one which is external and makes much noise, but whose
consequences are not lasting; the other, which is internal, has but a
mean appearance, like the seed when it germinates; and which
nevertheless bears most precious fruit. Now what pleases the general
public is a narrative in which great armies manœuvre; while, on the
other hand, what touches the author is the movement of the soul, of
strong characters, enthusiastic outbursts, the low estate of humble and
tranquil hearts, holy affections, life-giving principles, the faith
which gains victories, and the Divine life which regenerates nations—in
a word, the moral world. The material world, physical and appreciable
forces, parks of artillery and glittering squadrons, possess but a
secondary interest in his eyes. Numerous cannons (it is true) give more
smoke; but to those external powers, which destroy life, he prefers the
internal powers which elevate the soul, warm it for truth, for liberty,
and for God, and cause it to be born again to life everlasting. If these
internal forces are developed in the midst of a little people, they
possess all the more attraction for him.

If humble heroes are not popular, shall I therefore leave their noble
actions in obscurity? Shall I limit myself henceforward to bringing
princes and kings on the stage, with statesmen, cardinals, armies,
treaties, and empires? No: I cannot do so. I shall have to speak,
indeed, of Francis I. and Charles V., of Anne Boleyn and Henry VIII.,
and other great personages; but I shall still remain faithful to little
people and little things. It is indeed a petty city whose struggles I am
relating; but it is the city that for two centuries made head against
Rome, until she had resigned the task entrusted to her into the hands of
more powerful nations—England, Germany, and America. Let the liberals
despise her who at this very time most enjoy the fruits of her severe
struggles.... Be it so.... As for me, I have not the courage to follow
them. I call to mind the refugees she has entertained ... the asylum
they found there, and which their children still enjoy ... and I desire
to pay my debt. Oh! if she would only understand that she cannot exist
with honour in the future, unless, while loving liberty, she loves the
Gospel more than everything else.

Let me say a few words more on the principles which have guided me in
composing this history. What it is necessary for us to study above all
things is, in my opinion, the beginnings. The formation of beings, the
origin of the successive phases of humanity, possess in my eyes an
importance and interest far surpassing the exhibition of what these
things have afterwards become. The creative epoch of Christianity, in
which we contemplate Christ and His apostles, is to me far more
admirable than those which succeeded it. Similarly the Reformation,
which is the creation of the evangelical world in modern times, has
greater attractions for me than the Protestantism which comes after. I
take a pleasure in watching life in its commencement. When the work is
done, its _summa momenta_ are over. In the first lines of the first
volume of my first work, I said that I should follow this rule. I shall
not be reproached for remaining faithful to it.

An objection has been raised that this history is too full of details. I
might reply that it is not good to leave facts in vagueness; that they
must be analysed and described. The surrounding circumstances can alone
give an accurate knowledge of events, and impress on them the stamp of
reality. The author may here quote an authority which no one will
dispute. He remembers, that being in Paris at M. Guizot's, just as the
first volume of the _History of the Reformation_ appeared—about thirty
years ago—that illustrious writer said to him: 'Give us DETAILS, the
rest we know.' We do not think that many of our readers will fancy they
know more than he does.

Another conviction also exercises some influence on the character of my
narrative. It seems to me that the study of the unknown has a peculiar
charm. Geneva and its struggles for liberty and the Gospel, are a _terra
incognita_, except to its citizens and a few men of letters. When
historians describe ancient or modern times—for example, the Revolution
of the Netherlands, of England, or of France,—they can only say a little
better what others have already said before them. Perhaps there is some
advantage in exploring a virgin soil—in adding new facts to that
treasury which ought to be the wisdom of nations. The author is not,
however, blind to the truth there may have been in some of the
criticisms upon his work—and while following the principles he has laid
down, he will endeavour to profit by them.

He had hoped to publish the third and fourth volumes together this year.
Having been forced to pass the winter of 1862-63 at Nice, with
injunctions to abstain from work, he publishes one only now; but the
next, God willing, will not be long delayed.

On returning from Nice, the author passed through Piedmont, partly to be
present at a synod in the Waldensian valleys, which reminded him of the
one described in this volume; and partly to make researches among the
General Archives of the kingdom at Turin. The valuable collections there
contained were liberally thrown open to him, and he was able to select
and transcribe some precious documents hitherto unknown, of which, as
will be seen, he made immediate use. While thanking the various persons
who have been useful to him in his researches, the author desires also
to express his acknowledgments to the translator of this work, Dr. H.
White, who has spared no pains in conveying to the English reader a
faithful and animated copy of the original. The translation has been
carefully revised by the author with great care, line by line and word
by word, and some changes, not in the French edition, have been
introduced.

Will this work obtain a success similar to that which attended the
former one? That treated of the Reformation in Germany, with Luther as
its hero; this treats especially of the Reform in Western Europe, with
Calvin as its head. The scene of the latter being nearer home, ought to
have more interest for British readers; or shall a new-born passion for
Germany and the Germans make them look with indifference on all that
does not directly concern the country of Luther?... France, Holland,
England, Scotland, Switzerland should possess some attraction for them.
The history, hitherto almost unknown, of the Reformation of Geneva is
not only attractive in itself, it is also of importance with regard to
England. Geneva is the representative of a Christian system, of a great
doctrine,—that of the supreme authority of Holy Scripture, and of the
pure Gospel. The final triumph of this doctrine is of the greatest
consequence for the English churches. A well-known British theologian of
our day has said: 'Two systems of doctrine are now, and probably for the
last time, in conflict—the Catholic and the _Genevan_.'[7]

May this work be of some little use in determining the issue!

 LA GRAVELINE, EAUX VIVES:
 _Geneva, May 1864_.

[1] Went to God between the hours of eight and nine o'clock in the
evening of Saturday 27th May.

[2] Conférences de Genève en 1861, i. pp. 390, 391.

[3] Luke, xviii. 31.

[4] See Book ii. ch. xxi. xxii. xxvi. xxxi. xxxiii.

[5] Epistle of St. James, iii. 4.

[6] 'Those children of the gods, the Bourbons, unite their fruitful
races.'

[7] Dr. Pusey, _Letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury_.




 CONTENTS
 OF
 THE THIRD VOLUME.


 BOOK IV.
 TIMES OF HOSTILITY TO THE REFORM IN FRANCE.

 CHAPTER I.
 CALVIN, THE FUGITIVE, IN HIS RETREAT AT ANGOULÊME.
 (NOVEMBER AND DECEMBER 1533.)

 Rights of Conscience, claimed by Protestants, repudiated by Rome—Calvin
 in Flight—Accepts the Cross—Tillet's House, Rue de Genève—The Library—A
 new Phase—Doxopolis—The quiet Nest—Calvin's Studies—The Forge in which
 Vulcan prepares his Bolts—Men who rank themselves among Beasts—Calvin
 attacks them—Noble intercourse of Friendship
                                                                    PAGE 1

 CHAPTER II.
 THE EXILE TURNS PREACHER.
 (DECEMBER 1533 AND JANUARY 1534.)

 The Greek of Claix—Men of Mark gather round him—Conferences at
 Gérac—Prayer and the Search for Truth—Those who believe and those who
 know—Calvin supplies Sermons for the Priests—He preaches in Latin
                                                                        15

 CHAPTER III.
 CALVIN AT NÉRAC, WITH ROUSSEL AND LEFÈVRE.
 (WINTER 1533-34.)

 Religious Awakening in the South—Margaret arrives at Nérac—Evangelical
 movement around her—Refugees, the Poor, and Children—Calvin goes to
 Nérac—Roussel's Concessions and Calvin's Firmness—A candid old
 Man—Lefèvre predicts Calvin's Future—A Lesson received by Calvin—He
 rebukes the unequally yoked
                                                                        23

 CHAPTER IV.
 A DRAMATIC REPRESENTATION AT THE COURT OF NAVARRE.
 (WINTER 1533-34.)

 The Lord's Supper at Pau—Opposition of the King of Navarre—The Mystery
 of _The Nativity_—A Carpenter and a young Jewess—They are ill-received
 at Bethlehem—They Lodge in a Stable—The Lord sends His Angels—Joseph
 returns, and worships the Child—Amusing Interlude—Conversation between
 the Shepherds—The Angels announce the Nativity—Shepherds and
 Shepherdesses go to Bethlehem—The Shepherds discover the
 Child—Adoration—Satan appears—He denies the Incarnation—Satan
 conquered, and Christ triumphs—Effects produced by the Mystery
                                                                        32

 CHAPTER V.
 CALVIN AT POITIERS, AT THE BASSES-TREILLES, AND IN
 ST. BENEDICT'S CAVE.
 (SPRING 1534.)

 Calvin and Du Tillet at Poitiers—Calvin at the University—Awakening and
 Renewal—Friends and Enemies—Calvin's successful Teaching—Invited to the
 Lieutenant-General's—Conversation about Luther and Zwingle—Garden of
 the Basses-Treilles—The first Calvinist Council—Calvin's Grotto—Earnest
 Prayer—Calvin speaks against the Mass—Interruption—Appeal—The Lord's
 Supper
                                                                        51

 CHAPTER VI.
 CALVIN AND HIS DISCIPLES BEGIN THE EVANGELISATION OF FRANCE.
 (SPRING 1534.)

 Calvin and the four Brothers St. George—They desire to remain Abbots,
 although Evangelical—They sacrifice a brilliant Position—France on the
 point of awaking—The Missionaries sent out—Babinot and Vèron—The
 Reformation and the Young—The Reformation and Science—How Faith and
 Science should unite—Abusive Language against Calvin—Calvin leaves
 Poitiers—His Letter to the Church of Poitiers—He will not be the Pope's
 Vassal—Poitiers regrets Calvin—Calvin resigns his Benefices—His
 Influence at Noyon
                                                                        65

 CHAPTER VII.
 THE EVANGELICAL CHRISTIANS OF PARIS IN 1534.
 (SUMMMER 1534.)

 Progress of the Gospel in France—Calvin arrives in Paris—Martyrdom of
 Pointet—Milon the Paralytic—His Gaieties and his Fall—His
 Conversion—His Christian Life—Du Bourg, the Draper—Valeton, the
 Receiver of Nantes—Giulio Camillo and his Machine—Contrary Opinions of
 Sturm and Calvin—A Scholar and a Bricklayer—Catelle—A characteristic of
 Calvin
                                                                        79

 CHAPTER VIII.
 CALVIN'S FIRST RELATIONS WITH THE LIBERTINES AND WITH SERVETUS.
 (SUMMER 1534.)

 The Spirituals or Libertines—Calvin a Conservative—Murder and
 Theft—Calvin begins the Struggle—False Liberality of the
 Spirituals—Treatise against the Libertines—Servetus—He desires to win
 Calvin and France—Calvin and Servetus on the Trinity—Luther, Zwingli,
 and Bucer against Servetus—A Discussion appointed—Servetus stays
 away—_Psychopannychia_—Character of Calvin's Divinity—His Happiness at
 La Forge's—Determines to leave Paris—The Travellers robbed—They arrive
 at Strasburg
                                                                        92

 CHAPTER IX.
 THE PLACARDS.
 (OCTOBER 1534.)

 Temporisers and Scripturists—Feret sent by the Christians of Paris to
 consult Farel—Movement in Switzerland—Farel writes the
 Placards—Examined by the Paris Christians—Shall they be
 published?—Posting of the Placards—Their Contents—Their Violence
 neutralises their Success
                                                                       100

 CHAPTER X.
 THE KING'S ANGER.
 (AUTUMN 1534.)

 Commotion caused by the Placards—A New Missive—Placard posted on the
 King's Door—His Indignation—The King's Orders—Anguish of the
 Reformed—Morin lays his Plans—The Sketch-maker betrays his
 Brethren—Arrests—Valeton and his Books are taken—Du Bourg and the
 Paralytic seized—Numerous Arrests—Duprat and De Tournon excite the
 King—Grief of Queen Margaret—She intercedes in Roussel's Favour—Beda
 accuses the King—_Mass of Seven Points_—The Queen's Preachers before
 the King
                                                                       123

 CHAPTER XI.
 EXPIATIONS AND PROCESSIONS.
 (END OF 1534 AND BEGINNING OF 1535.)

 Milon's Martyrdom—Du Bourg at the Stake—Poille's Sufferings and
 Courage—Terror and Emigration—Quality of the Fugitives—Hardships of the
 Flight—Roussel, Berthaud and Courault—The King urged to
 persecute—Preparations for the Procession—The Procession—Calvin on the
 Relics—Penitence of the King—The Two Januaries 21
                                                                       140

 CHAPTER XII.
 ELOQUENCE AND TORTURES OF FRANCIS I.
 (JANUARY 21, 1535.)

 Dinner at the Bishop's—The King's Speech—Effects of the King's
 Rhetoric—The Procession on its Return—The Strappado—Martyrdom of
 Valeton—Torture at the Halles—Proclamations and Punishments—La Forge
 and other Martyrs—La Gaborite—The Holy Candle—The King's Motives—France
 prepared for the Reform—Sturm's Sorrow—His Letter to Melanchthon—
 Luther's Sentiments—The King's Hatred—His Letter to the Germans
                                                                       157

 CHAPTER XIII.
 CALVIN AT STRASBURG, WITH ERASMUS, AND AT BASLE.
 (SUMMER AND AUTUMN 1534.)

 Calvin's Mission—Strasburg—The College and Matthew Zell—The Pastor's
 Wife—Bucer and Capito—Deficiencies in the Strasburg Divines—Calvin
 leaves Strasburg—Erasmus—His Interview with Calvin—Catherine Klein at
 Basle—Peter Ramus on Calvin—Inward Work in Calvin—Cop at Basle—Grynæus
 and Calvin—Fabri—Calvin exhorts to Peace—Translations of the Bible
                                                                       177

 CHAPTER XIV.
 INSTITUTES OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.
 (WINTER 1534.)

 News of the Paris Martyrs—Calvin advocates Compassion—Fresh
 Victims—Indignation in Germany—Oswald Myconius—His first Sermon—His
 Opinions on the Martyrdoms—Du Tillet's Anguish—Effect of these
 Cruelties on Calvin—Determines to plead the Cause of his
 Brethren—Theology restored—The Reformation is a Creation—The
 _Institutes_—A Consciousness of Divinity within us—Cavillers and
 Testimony of the Holy Ghost—Expiation—Faith and Charity—The Flame in
 the Heart—Assurance of Victory—Grace is everything—God does not ordain
 Evil—Morality restored in Religion—The Church—Appreciation of the
 _Institutes_
                                                                       194

 CHAPTER XV.
 CALVIN ADDRESSES THE KING AND DEPARTS FOR ITALY.
 (AUGUST 1535.)

 The Martyrs Cornon and Brion—Letter to the King—The Evangelical
 Doctrine is Truth—Truth Attacked and not Defended—Reign of
 Brigandage—The Invincible Doctrine—Cause of the zeal of the Monks—Is
 the Doctrine new?—Testimony of the Fathers—State of the World—Where the
 True Church is to be found—Satan quiet or active—Tortures and
 Patience—Printing of the _Institutes_—Calvin starts for Italy—His
 Motives for going
                                                                       216


 BOOK V.
 STRUGGLES OF THE REFORMATION.

 CHAPTER I.
 EFFORTS IN THE PAYS DE VAUD.
 (1521.)

 Uses of Opposition—Conciliation needful—Stagnation and new
 Struggles—Vaud and Geneva—Farel—His Portrait—Greatness of the
 beginnings of the Reform—The General prepares for Conquest—Fabri visits
 Farel—Farel desires to return to the Combat—The Indulgence Seller at
 Orbe—Farel preaches the Pardon of the Saviour—Friar Michael aroused
 against him—His first and second Sermon—Hollard gives the lie—He is
 severely beaten
                                                                       232

 CHAPTER II.
 PLOT OF THE WOMEN AGAINST REFORM; FAREL'S PREACHING.
 (1531.)

 The Bailiff of Berne arrives at Orbe—The Monk in Prison—Romain
 compelled to run for his Life—Beaten by the Women—Intercession in the
 Monk's favour—Farel arrives at Orbe—Tumult—Plot of the Women—Friar
 Michael's Examination—Michael liberated and Farel preaches—Singular
 Congregation—Procession and Sermon—Farel preaches on Penance,
 Indulgences, Confession, Images, and a Worldly Life—Farel hard to
 please with regard to the Ministry
                                                                       248

 CHAPTER III.
 A NEW REFORMER AND AN IMAGE-BREAKER.
 (1531.)

 Pierre Viret goes to Paris—Converted and returns to Orbe—His
 Struggles—Conversion of his Parents—Farel and Viret—Viret preaches at
 Orbe—The Peter, Paul, and John of Switzerland—Conversion of Elizabeth
 d'Arnex—Conversion of a Priest—The Lord's Supper at Orbe—All the Images
 thrown down—Arrest of the Priests—The Banneret appeals to the
 People—Release of the Priests—The Iconoclasts imprisoned
                                                                       262

 CHAPTER IV.
 THE BATTLES OF GRANDSON.
 (1531-32.)

 Malady of petty Questions—Farel's Wisdom—How he raised Recruits—
 War—cries of the Reformers—Farel marches to Battle—Battle of Grandson
 in 1476—Farel turned out by the Grey Friars—Struggle in the Benedictine
 Convent—The Church opened to the Reformers—The Reformers
 imprisoned—Reinforcements from Yverdun and Lausanne—The Grey-Friar's
 Sermon—Fresh Struggle beginning—The Sentinel-Monks—Conspiracy of the
 devout Women-Conversion of the Monks—Christmas Festival at
 Orbe—Disorders of the Catholics—Council of the Reformed—First Act of
 Religious Liberty
                                                                       276

 CHAPTER V.
 THE WALDENSES APPEAR.
 (1526 TO OCTOBER 1532.)

 The Waldenses enquire about the Reform—Deputation to Œcolampadius—
 Confession of the Barbes—Origin of the Waldenses—Marriage—Work—The
 Mass—Natural Strength—Brotherly Love of Œcolampadius—Proposals for a
 Synod—Martyrdom of Masson—Farel's Danger—His Journey and Arrival in the
 Valleys—Conversations—Opening of the Synod—Election and Works—Farel's
 Opinions gain ground—Discussion on Compromises—Harmony between the
 Waldensians and Reformers—Old Waldensian manuscripts—Translation of the
 Bible determined upon—Farel desires to go to Geneva
                                                                       293

 CHAPTER VI.
 PLANS OF THE EMPEROR, THE DUKE OF SAVOY, AND THE BISHOP
 AGAINST GENEVA.
 (1530-1532.)

 Bellegarde arrives at Augsburg—His Audience with Charles V.—The
 Emperor's Anxieties—His Answer—Bellegarde's Letter to the Duke of
 Savoy—His Designs against Geneva—Revolutionary Measures—The Bishop
 sends his Secretary to Geneva—His constant Agitation and Anger—His
 displeasure against B. Hugues—Charles V. orders Geneva to expel the
 Sectarians—The _Zwing-Uri_ of Geneva—Freedom in sight
                                                                       312

 CHAPTER VII.
 THE REFORMERS AND THE REFORMATION ENTER GENEVA.
 (OCTOBER 1532.)

 Farel and Saunier go to Geneva—Farel consults Olivetan—Farel calls upon
 the Huguenot Leaders—They go to hear Farel—He shows them their
 Deficiencies—Farel and his Hearers—Sensation in the City—His second
 Lecture and its Effects—The Women of Geneva opposed to the Reform—Farel
 before the Town Council—The Council divided—The name of Berne protects
 him—The Episcopal Council deliberates—Conspiracy against Farel—Farel
 summoned before Clergy
                                                                       328

 CHAPTER VIII.
 THE REFORMERS ARE EXPELLED FROM GENEVA.
 (OCTOBER 1532.)

 Farel before the Episcopal Council—Speech of the Official—Veigy's
 Invectives—Farel's Answer—A clerical Tumult—Syndic Hugues
 interposes—Danger of Farel and his Friends—Olard tries to shoot
 Farel—Farel turned out of Geneva—A Storm—A Priest tries to stab
 Farel—He is protected by the Magistrates—Farel's Departure
                                                                       343

 CHAPTER IX.
 A JOURNEY TO THE VALLEYS OF PIEDMONT, AND STRUGGLES NEAR
 NEUCHÂTEL.
 (END OF 1532.)

 Farel desires to send Froment to Geneva—Recollections of their common
 Dangers—Olivetan requested to translate the Bible—He fears the
 Critics—Olivetan departs for the Valleys—An inhospitable Woman—Olivetan
 and his three sick Friends—A Monk of St. Bernard—Olivetan in the
 Valley—Neuchâtel—A Fight in the Church—Decree of the Council—A strange
 Christmas Festival—The Curé heads the Battle—A Christmas
 Sermon—Locle—The Oxen of the Brenets
                                                                       356

 CHAPTER X.
 THE SCHOOLMASTER AND CLAUDINE LEVET.
 (NOVEMBER AND DECEMBER 1532.)

 Froment departs for Geneva—Bad Reception at first—Desires to leave the
 City—His Prospectuses—Great Success—Froment teaches—Difference between
 Rome and the Reform—The bewitched Paula takes Claudine to hear
 Froment—Claudine crosses herself and listens—Shut up three Days and
 three Nights with the Gospel—Her Conscience finds Peace—Her Conversion
 and Interview with Froment
                                                                       373

 CHAPTER XI.
 FORMATION OF THE CHURCH. FRIENDS AND OPPONENTS.
 (MIDDLE TO THE END OF DECEMBER 1532.)

 The Bishop's Anger—Progress of the Gospel—Claudine lays aside her
 costly Attire—The Ladies of Geneva—Conversion of many of them—Little
 Assemblies—The Church without form and the Church formed—A Monk
 preaches the Gospel—Th. Moine and a Sermon at the Madeleine—Four
 Huguenots demand a Disputation—Discussion with the Vicar—The Armed
 Priests—Tumult at the Madeleine—The Vicar of St. Germain's—Froment
 forbidden to preach—St. Sylvester's Eve
                                                                       388

 CHAPTER XII.
 THE SERMON AT THE MOLARD.
 (NEW YEAR'S DAY, 1533.)

 Crowd at Froment's Lodgings—He is called to preach at the
 Molard—Invites the People to pray—His Text—Sermon at the Molard—The
 Interruption—The False Prophets—God the sole Judge—The Magistrates
 interfere—Froment's Escape and Concealment—Meeting of the
 Council—Serious posture of Affairs—Froment assaulted—Forced to leave
 Geneva
                                                                       403

 CHAPTER XIII.
 HOLY SCRIPTURE AND THE LORD'S SUPPER AT GENEVA.
 (JANUARY AND FEBRUARY 1533.)

 Romish Reaction—Friar Bocquet sent away—Baudichon de la Maisonneuve—
 Evangelical Meetings—Two kinds of Protestantism—Olivetan's
 Work—Translation of the Bible—The Word and the Sacrament—Guerin—First
 Sacrament at Pré l'Evêque—Guerin forced to leave—The Two Winds
                                                                       423

 CHAPTER XIV.
 FORMATION OF A CATHOLIC CONSPIRACY.
 (LENT, 1533.)

 Olivetan's Remonstrance and Exile—Preparations of the Clerical Party—De
 la Maisonneuve at Berne—Berne demands Freedom of Worship—Two Hundred
 Catholics before the Council—They ask for Justice—Agitation against the
 Lutherans—The Conspirators assemble—Secret Plots—Speeches of the
 Leaders—Solemn Oath—Catholics meet at St. Pierre's Church—The Reformed
 at Maisonneuve's—Goulaz and Vandel exhort to Peace—Vandel wounded
                                                                       434

 CHAPTER XV.
 FIRST ARMED ATTACK OF THE CATHOLICS UPON THE REFORMATION.
 (MARCH 28, 1533.)

 The Catholics prepare to fight—The Standards of the King go forth—The
 Troops are formed—An Alarm—Muster at the Molard—The three Corps—The
 Artillery and the Banner—The Prayer of the Nuns—Agitation in the City—A
 cruel husband—Reinforcement of Women and Children—Scene at
 Maisonneuve's—Consolation and Prayer—Fight between Philippe and
 Bellessert—The St. Gervaisians retire—Claudine Levet pursued—Plan to
 burn out the Huguenots—Peigy's Troop change their Road—The Reformed in
 Line of Battle—The Cannons planted—The Trumpet sounds—Tears and Prayers
                                                                       448

 CHAPTER XVI.
 TRUCE BETWEEN THE TWO PARTIES.
 (FROM MARCH 28 TO MAY 4, 1533.)

 Mediation of the Friburgers—Their Language to the Syndics and the
 Priests—A Consultation—Joy and Murmuring—Plan of
 Reconciliation—Articles of Peace—Dominican Song of Victory—The
 Sacrament on Holy Thursday—Alarm of the Catholics—The Dominican at St.
 Pierre's—Embassy to Berne—Is followed by Maisonneuve—His Speech to the
 Council of Berne—The Syndic is Dumb
                                                                       470

 CHAPTER XVII.
 SECOND ATTACK, IN WHICH THE LEADER PERISHES.
 (MAY 4, 1533.)

 War of the Tongue—Huguenots depart for Lyons—Festival of the Holy
 Winding-Sheet—High Mass—Importance of the Struggle—Ideas become Acts—A
 Holiday Evening ends in a Brawl—An Agent of the Clergy excites the
 Crowd—Marin de Versonay—The Tocsin sounds—Wernli arms for the
 Fight—Decisive Moment—His Appeals—His first Challenge—Skirmish in the
 Dark—Wernli heads the Fight—His Death—How the Night was spent
                                                                       486

 CHAPTER XVIII.
 THE CANON'S DEATH MADE A WEAPON AGAINST THE REFORM.
 (MAY TO JULY 1533.)

 The Corpse discovered—Distress of the Catholics—Arrival of Wernli's
 Relations—The Burial—A Miracle—Preparations to crush the Reform—The
 Bishop at Arbois—The Pope orders him to return to Geneva—His
 Indecision—Determines to go—Importunity of the Mamelukes' Council—A
 Coup d'Etat necessary—Two Victories to be won—Friburg demands the Trial
 of Wernli's Murderers—Declaration of Religious Liberty
                                                                       503

 CHAPTER XIX.
 CATASTROPHE.
 (BEGINNING OF JULY 1533.)

 Preparations to receive the Bishop—His Entrance—The Bishop at the
 General Council—Agitation—The Magistrates consult the Charters—The
 Bishop's despotic Intentions—Proscriptions—The Huguenots
 entrapped—Escape of many—One of their Wives imprisoned—Strange Request
 of the Bishop—Levet's Flight—He is pursued and taken—Various
 Rumours—The Bishop cites the Prisoners before him—Attacks on the
 Huguenots—The Courage of the Genevese—Elders of Geneva before the
 Bishop—The Bishop persists in his Illegality—Firmness of the
 Genevese—The Friburgers call for Vengeance—G. Wernli's Speech—Refusal
 of the Two Hundred—Arguments for the Temporal Power—Opposition to
 Absolute Power—The Prisoners in their Dungeons—Impatience of the
 Mamelukes—Attempt to murder Curtet—Dangers accumulating—Geneva and
 Calvin—Triumph and Tribulation—Hope
                                                                       516




 HISTORY
 OF THE
 REFORMATION IN EUROPE
 IN THE TIME OF CALVIN.




 BOOK IV.
 TIMES OF HOSTILITY TO THE REFORM IN FRANCE.




 CHAPTER I.
 CALVIN, THE FUGITIVE, IN HIS RETREAT AT ANGOULÊME.
 (NOVEMBER AND DECEMBER, 1533.)


Religion needs liberty, and the convictions inspired by her ought to be
exempt from the control of the Louvre and of the Vatican. Man's
conscience belongs to God alone, and every human power that encroaches
on this kingdom and presumes to command within it is guilty of rebellion
against its lawful sovereign. Religious persecution deserves to be
reprobated, not only in the name of philosophy, but above all in the
name of God's right. His sovereign Majesty is offended when the sword
enters into the sanctuary. A persecuting government is not only
illiberal, it is impious. Let no man thrust himself between God and the
soul! The spot on which they meet is holy ground. Away, intruder! Leave
the soul with Him to whom it belongs.

These thoughts naturally occur to us as we approach an epoch when a
persecuting fanaticism broke out in France, when scaffolds were raised
in the streets of Paris, and when acts of terrible cruelty were
enthusiastically applauded by a royal cortége.

These rights of conscience, which we record, are not new. They date
neither from our century, nor from the sixteenth. The Saviour
established them when he said: '_Render unto Cæsar the things which are
Cæsar's, and_ UNTO GOD THE THINGS THAT ARE GOD'S.' Since that hour they
have been maintained by many courageous voices. During three centuries
the martyrs said to the pagan emperors: 'Is it not an irreligious act to
forbid my worshipping the God whom I like, and to force me to worship
the god whom I dislike?'[8] In the fourth century Athanasius and Hilary
told the Arian princes: 'Satan uses violence, he dashes in the doors
with an axe ... but persuasion is the only weapon truth employs.'[9] In
later years, when the barbarians desired to bend the Church under the
weight of brute force, the hitherto servile clergy declared as loudly as
they could that religious doctrine did not fall under the dominion of
the temporal sword.

[Sidenote: ROME, A PERSECUTING POWER.]

When, therefore, in the bloody days of the Reformation, the power of
Rome, uniting in some countries with the power of the princes, wished to
constrain men's souls and force them to submit to its laws, the
evangelical christians, by claiming liberty in their turn, only asserted
the great principle of Jesus Christ formerly adopted by the Church
herself. But, strange to say! this principle which she had found so
admirable, when she had to employ it in self-defence, became impious
when it was appealed to in order to escape from her persecutions. Such
inconsistencies frequently occur in the history of fallen humanity. We
must call them to remembrance though it be with sorrow. There have
always existed many generous persons in the bosom of catholicity who
have protested with horror against the frightful punishments by which it
was attempted to make our forefathers renounce their faith; and there
are still more now, for the laws of religious liberty are gradually
becoming established among nations. But we must never forget that two
centuries of cruel persecution was the welcome the world gave to the
Reformation. When the day of St. Bartholomew saw the streets of the
capital of the Valois run with blood,—when ruffians glutted their savage
passions on the corpse of that best and greatest of Frenchmen,
Coligny—immense was the enthusiasm at Rome, and a fierce shout of
exultation rang through the pontifical city.[10] Wishing to perpetuate
the glory of the massacre of the huguenots, the pope ordered a medal to
be struck, representing that massacre and bearing the device:
_Hugonotorum strages_. The officers of the Roman court still sell (as we
know personally) this medal to all who desire to carry away some
remembrance of their city. Those times are remote; milder manners
prevail, but it is the duty of protestantism to remind the world of the
use made by the court of Rome, on emerging from the middle ages, of that
_pre-eminence_ in catholic countries, which she contends belongs to her
always, and which she is still ready to claim 'with the greatest
vigour.' Resistance to this cruel pre-eminence cost the Reformation
torrents of the purest blood; and it is this blood which gives us the
right to protest against it.

Before we describe the scenes of horror that defiled the streets of
Paris at this period, we must follow in his flight that young doctor,
who, though illustrious in after years, was now the victim of
persecution.

       *       *       *       *       *

The feast of All Saints being the day when the university celebrated the
opening of the academical year, Calvin (as we have seen), through the
channel of his friend Cop the rector, had displayed before the Sorbonne
and a numerous audience the great principles of the Gospel. University,
monks, priests had all been excited, scandalised, and exasperated;
parliament had interfered; and Cop and Calvin were obliged to flee.

That man whose hand was one day boldly to raise the standard of the
Gospel in the world, whose teaching was to enlighten many nations, and
whose eloquence was to stir all France; that man who was yearly to send
forth from Geneva some thirty or forty missionaries, and whose letters
strengthened all the Churches; that man, still young, pursued by the
lieutenant-criminal and his sergeants, had been forced to steal out of
his chamber into the street and disguise himself in strange garments;
and in the beginning of November, he found himself in the back streets
on the left bank of the Seine looking on every side lest there should be
any one on his track. He had never been more tranquil than at the moment
when struck by this sudden blow. Francis I. resisted the insolence of
the monks; the Sorbonne had been compelled to disavow their most
fanatical acts; many Lutherans were able to preach the Gospel freely to
those around them; a reforming movement seemed spreading far and wide
through France ... when suddenly the lightning darted forth and struck
the young reformer. 'I thought I should be able to devote myself to
God's service without hindrance,' said he in his flight; 'I promised
myself a tranquil career; ... but at that very moment, what I expected
least, namely persecution and exile, were at the door.'[11]

[Sidenote: CALVIN'S FLIGHT]

Calvin did not regret, however, the testimony he had borne to the truth,
and resigned himself to exile. Far from resembling the unbroken horse
(to use his own expression) who refuses to carry his rider, he
voluntarily bowed his shoulders to the cross.[12] _Never tire in the
middle of your journey_, was his maxim always.[13] Yet as he travelled
along those rough byroads of the Mantois, he often asked himself what
this severe dispensation was to teach him. Was he to retire from Paris
and renounce the idea of making that city the centre of his christian
activity? That would, indeed, be a hard trial for him. His people seemed
to be waking, and he must leave them!... Still he kept on his way. On
arriving near Mantes, he went to the residence of the Sire de Haseville,
to whom he was known, and there remained in hiding several days. He then
resumed his journey, either because he thought himself too near his
enemies, or because his host was afraid.

Calvin took the road to the south; he crossed the charming plains and
valleys of Touraine, entered the pasturages and forests of Poitou, and
thence turned his steps towards Saintonge and the Angoumois.[14] This
latter province was the end of his journey. On a hill at whose foot the
Charente 'softly flowed,' stood the cathedral, the old castle and city
of Angoulême, the birth-place of Margaret of Navarre. Calvin entered the
gates of this antique town, and made his way to one of the principal
streets, which afterwards received in his honour the name it still
bears—_Rue de Genève_. In that street was a large mansion whose
principal apartment was a long gallery in which more than four thousand
volumes, printed or manuscript, were collected: it was one of the most
valuable private libraries then existing in France.[15] The fugitive
halted before this house. Learned works were doubtless well calculated
to attract him; but he was animated by another motive also. This mansion
belonged to the family of Du Tillet, whose members were reckoned among
the most learned in the kingdom. The father and two of his sons were
detained in Paris by their duties in the Chamber of Accounts, at the
Louvre and in parliament; but another son, Louis, canon of the
cathedral, was at Angoulême, and lived alone in that large house, when
he was not at his parish of Claix. Louis was Calvin's friend,[16] and it
was the remembrance of this gentle, mild, and rather weak young man,
whose disposition was very engaging, that had induced the fugitive to
bend his steps towards the Angoumois.

[Sidenote: DU TILLET'S HOUSE AND LIBRARY.]

Calvin stopped in front of his friend's house and knocked at the door,
it opened, and he went in: we cannot say whether he found the canon
there or not, but at all events the latter was filled with joy when he
heard of the arrival of the young doctor, whose 'great gifts and grace'
he admired so much, and whose intimacy had been so sweet to him. Calvin
told him how he had been obliged to flee from the attacks of the
parliament, and of the danger to which those who gave him refuge were
exposed. But Du Tillet thought himself the happiest of men, if he could
but shelter his friend from the search of his enemies. Once more he was
about to enjoy those spiritual and edifying conversations which he had
so often regretted and could never forget.[17] Even the persecution of
which Calvin was a victim made him all the dearer to his friend; and
Louis introduced him into the vast gallery, installed him in the midst
of the most eminent minds of all ages, whose celebrated works loaded the
numerous shelves, and established him, as in a safe retreat, in that
beautiful library which seemed prepared for the lofty intelligence and
profound studies of the theologian.

Calvin, who needed retirement and repose, felt happy. 'I am never less
alone than when alone,' he used to say.[18] At one time, he gave thanks
to God; at another, taking the precious volumes from the shelves around
him, he opened and read them, assuaging the thirst for knowledge which
consumed him. A learned retreat, like that now given him, was the dream
of his whole life. Pious reflections crowded into his heart, and if
during his flight he had felt a momentary darkness, the light now shone
into his soul. 'The causes of what happens to us are often so hidden,'
he said in after times, 'that human affairs seem to turn about at
random, as on a wheel, and the flesh tempts us to murmur against God,
because he sports with men, tossing them here and there like balls, ...
but the issue shows us that God is on the watch for the salvation of
believers.'[19]

[Sidenote: DOXOPOLIS.]

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. Only let us trust in him, and he will care for
us!' Thus the hunted Calvin found himself at Angoulême, under God's
hand, like a young storm-driven bird that has taken refuge in the nest
under the wing of its mother.

[Sidenote: CALVIN'S LABOURS.]

The young canon took the liveliest interest in the fate of his guest,
and hoped to see the hospitality he showed him bear precious fruits for
learning and the Gospel. Calvin, too humble to believe that Du Tillet's
cares had any reference to himself, ascribed them solely to his friend's
zeal for knowledge and the cause of Christ; it seemed to him that he
could never repay such kindness but by constant labour, and that was all
he ever had to give. 'My protector's kindness,' he said, 'is sufficient
to stimulate the indolence of the laziest of men.[23] Cheer up, then!
let me make an effort, let me struggle earnestly. No more
carelessness!'[24] Then he shut himself up in Du Tillet's library,
gathered round him the books he wanted, and said: 'I must give all my
attention to study; this thought is constantly pulling me by the ear.'
If he took a moment's leisure, he felt 'his ear pulled,' that is to say,
his conscience was troubled; he hurried to his books, and set to work
with so much zeal, 'that he passed whole nights without sleeping and
days without eating.'[25] This was his _indolence_!

A great idea was at that time growing in his heart. Parliament accused
and even burnt his brethren for pretended heresies. 'Must I be silent,'
he said, 'and thus give unbelievers an opportunity of condemning a
doctrine they do not know? Why should not the Reformed have a confession
to lay before their adversaries?'[26] As he examined Du Tillet's
library, he came upon certain books which seemed to him to bear
particularly on the existing state of suffering among evangelical
christians. He saw that apologies had formerly been presented to the
Emperor Adrian by Quadratus and Aristides, to Antoninus by Justin
Martyr, and to Marcus Aurelius by Athenagoras. Ought not the friends of
the Reformation to present a similar defence to Francis I.? If Calvin's
mouth is shut, he will take up the pen. God was then setting him apart
for one of the great works of the age. He did not indeed compose his
_Christian Institutes_ at this time, even under the elementary form of
the first edition, but he meditated it; he searched the Scriptures; he
drew out the sketch, and perhaps wrote some passages of that work, the
finest produced by the Reformation. And hence one of the enemies of the
Reform, casting a severe look on the learned library of the Du Tillets,
was led to exclaim: 'This is the forge where the new _Vulcan_ prepared
the bolts that he was afterwards to scatter on every side.... That is
the factory where he began to make the nets that he afterwards fixed up
to catch the simple, and from which a man must be very clever to get
out. It was there that he wove the web of his _Institutes_, which we may
call the _Koran_ or the _Talmud_ of heresy.'[27]

[Sidenote: MATERIALISTS.]

While Calvin was writing his first notes, he heard some strange rumours.
Men spoke to him of certain materialists in whose opinion the soul died
with the body. At first he hesitated as to what he should do. 'How,' he
asked, 'can I join battle with adversaries of whose camp and arms and
tactics I know nothing, and of whom I have only heard some confused
murmur?'[28] Another consideration checked him. Allied to them were
Christians who, while rejecting these errors, said that _time_ did not
exist for the soul separated from the body, and that the moment of death
was followed instantly by the moment of resurrection. 'I should not like
these good people to be offended against me,' he said. Calvin refused to
fire a shot against his enemies lest he should wound his brethren.

But one day he was told of enormous and degrading sophisms. These
teachers said to their followers: 'God has not placed in man a soul
different from that of the beast. The soul is not a substance; it is
only a quality of life, which proceeds from the throbbing of the
arteries or the motion of the lungs. It cannot exist without the body,
and perishes with it, until man rises again whole.'[29] Calvin was
thunderstruck. To be a man and to rank yourself among beasts, seemed to
him foolish and impious. 'O God!' he exclaimed, 'the conflagration has
increased, and thrown out flakes which, spreading far and wide, have
turned to burning torches.... O Lord, extinguish them, we pray thee, by
that saving rain which thou reservest for thy Church!'[30]

It was this gross materialism which absorbed Calvin's attention at
Angoulême. He saw the evil which these teachers might do the Reform, and
shuddered at the thought of the dangers which threatened the simple.
'Poor reeds tossed by every wind,' he exclaimed, 'whom the slightest
breath shakes and bends, what will become of you?'... Then addressing
the materialists he said: 'When the Lord says that the wicked kill the
body but _cannot kill the soul_, does he not mean that the soul survives
after death?[31] Know you not that, according to Scripture, the souls of
the saints stand before the throne of God, and that white robes were
given unto every one of them?'[32] Then resorting to irony, he
continued: 'Sleepy souls, what, I pray, do you understand by these
_white robes_? Do you take them for _pillows_ on which the souls recline
that are condemned to die?'[33] This mode of arguing was not rare in the
sixteenth century. Calvin, agitated by these errors, took up his pen,
and committed to paper the reflections which he published shortly after.

Calvin loved to repose from these struggles on the bosom of friendship.
In the society of Du Tillet at Angoulême he found once more the charms
which that of Duchemin had procured for him at Orleans. All his life he
sought that noble intercourse, those _offices_, those kindnesses which
friendship procures.[34] Even when deep in study, he loved to see the
library door open, a well-known face appear, and a friend sit down by
his side. Their conversations had an inexpressible sweetness for him.
'We have no need,' said the young canon, 'of those secrets which
Pythagoras employed to produce an indissoluble friendship between his
disciples. God has planted a mysterious seed between our souls, and that
seed cannot die.'[35]

[8] 'Adimere libertatem religionis, interdicere optionem divinitatis,'
&c. Tertullianus, _Apol._ cap. xxiv.

[9] Athanasius, _Hist. Arian._ § 3.

[10] 'Quis autem _optabilior_ ad te nuncius adferri poterat, aut
nos ipsi quod _felicius_ optare poteramus principium pontificatus
tui, quam ut primis illis mensibus _tetram illam caliginem_, quasi
exorto sole, _discussam_ cerneremus?'—_Mureti Orat._ xxii.

[11] 'Cum promitterem mihi omnia tranquilla, aderat foribus quod minime
sperabam.'—Letter to Francis Daniel.

[12] Calvin, _Harmonie Evangélique_.

[13] Calvin, _Lettres Françaises_, published by Jules Bonnet, i. p.
349.

[14] 'In agrum Santonicum demigrans.'—Beza, _Vita Calvini_.

[15] 'Conclavi quodam in Tilii ædibus, plus quatuor librorum, tam
impressorum quam manuscriptorum, millibus instructo.'—Flor. Rémond,
_Hist. Heres._ ii. p. 248.

[16] See Vol. II. book ii. ch. xx.

[17] _Corresp. de Calvin et de Du Tillet_, published by M. Crottet,
p. 30.

[18] 'Nunquam minus solum esse quam quum solus esset.'—Flor. Rémond,
_Hist. Heres._ ii. p. 247.

[19] Calvin, _Institutes_, bk. i. ch. xvii.

[20] 'Et pro ea quam nosti desidia, nonnihil studendo proficere.'—Berne
MSS. vol. 450, Calvin to Fr. Daniel. _Doxopolis._

[21] 'Si id temporis quod vel exilio, vel secessui destinatum est, tanto
in otio transigere datur, præclare mecum agi existimabo.'—Ibid.

[22] 'Nidus, mihi, in tranquillo componebatur præter opinionem.'—Ibid.

[23] 'Sane inertissimi hominis ignaviam acuere posset patroni mei
humanitas.'—Berne MSS. vol. 450, Calvin to F. Daniel. _Doxopolis._

[24] 'Mihi conandum est, serioque contendendum.'—Ibid.

[25] 'Tam somni quam cibi omnino oblitus.'—Flor. Rémond, _Hist.
Heres._ ii. p. 247.

[26] 'Debere nobis in promptu esse fidei confessionem ut cam proferamus
quoties opus est.'—Calvin, _Opp._ v. pars 4ta, p. 34.

[27] 'In hac officina Vulcani....telam exorsus ad capiendos simplicium
animos....Alcoranum vel Talmud.'—Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Heres._ ii.
p. 246, and French edition, liv. vii. ch. ix.

[28] _Opusc. Franç._ de Calvin, p. 3. This letter is not in the
Latin edition.

[29] 'Vim duntaxat vitam esse, aiunt, quæ ex spiritu arteriæ aut
pulmonum agitatione ducitur.'—_Psychopannychia_, Op. Lat. p. 1.

[30] _Opusc. Franç._ p. 2, Preface.

[31] Ibid. p. 12. _Opusc. Lat._ p. 5.

[32] Revelation vi. 11, vii. 9.

[33] 'O spiritus dormitorii! Quid vobis sunt stolæ albæ? Pulvinaria
scilicet in quibus ad somnum decubent?' _Opusc. Lat._ pp. 10, 11,
15.

[34] Montaigne, _Essais_, liv. i. ch. xxvii.

[35] Correspondance de Calvin avec Du Tillet, pp. 29, 34, 48.




 CHAPTER II.
 THE EXILE TURNS PREACHER.
 (DECEMBER 1533 AND JANUARY 1534.)


By degrees, however, Calvin came out of his retirement. Shut up in his
library, he began to sigh for country air, like Luther in the Wartburg.
He went out sometimes, alone or with his friend, and rambled over the
hills and quiet meadows watered by the Charente. The neighbourhood of
Angoulême did not present the grandeur he was one day to find on the
shores of the Leman; but to him everything in creation was beautiful,
because he saw the Creator everywhere. He could even be profoundly
touched by the beauties of nature: 'In the presence of the works of
God,' he said, 'we are overcome with astonishment, and our tongues and
senses fail us.'[36] Not far from the city was a vineyard belonging to
the canon, to which Du Tillet one day conducted his friend. The
delighted Calvin returned there frequently; the remembrance of these
visits still lingers in those parts, and the vineyard still goes by the
name of _La Calvine_.[37]

About this time their circle was increased: John Du Tillet, afterwards
bishop of Meaux, arrived at Angoulême. He too became attached with his
whole heart to Calvin: the latter, wishing to make himself useful to the
two brothers, offered to teach them Greek, and while teaching them to
read the New Testament, he led them to seek Christ. John listened
greedily to the young doctor's words; hence he was long suspected by the
Romanists, and having published in 1549 a very old manuscript, ascribed
to Charlemagne, _Against Images_—the _Libri Carolini_ are known to be
opposed to them—he occasioned loud murmurs: 'A man who has been Calvin's
pupil,' said the famous Cardinal du Perron, 'cannot well have any other
opinion.'[38]

[Sidenote: CALVIN AT CLAIX.]

These lessons, begun at Angoulême, were continued at Claix, where Du
Tillet used to spend a part of the year. People asked in the village who
that short, thin, pale young man was, who looked so serious and meek,
and whom they often met with the Du Tillets. The best informed said that
he gave them lessons in Greek. This study was a thing so extraordinary
in the Angoumois, that the country people, ignorant of the professor's
name, called him the _Greek of Claix_, or the _little Greek_. Some of
the better people of the neighbourhood of Claix occasionally met the
friends: they entered into conversation, and, says a contemporary, 'all
who loved learning esteemed the young scholar;'[39] his knowledge of the
classics, his taste so fine and accurate, attracted them to him. Certain
friends of the Du Tillets, ecclesiastics of good family, men of letters
and of feeling, soon shared this admiration of his virtues and his
talents: they were Anthony de Chaillou, Prior of Bouteville, the Abbot
of Balsac (near Jarnac), the famous De la Place, the Sieur de Torsac,
Charles Girault, and others. Calvin's appearance, his simple dress and
modest look interested these good men at first sight; and that clear and
penetrating glance which he preserved until the last, soon revealed to
them the keen intelligence and uprightness of the young _Greek_. They
conceived the most hearty affection for him. They loved to hear him
speak of the Saviour and of heaven, and yielded to his evangelical
teaching without a thought of being faithless to that of the Church.
This was the case with many Catholics at that time. They did not find in
Calvin the things that make fine talkers in the world—'nonsense, merry
jests, bantering, jokes, and all sorts of foolery, which pass away in
smoke,'[40] but the charms and profitableness of his conversation
captivated all who heard him. De la Place in particular received a deep
impression: 'I shall never forget,' he wrote years after, 'how your
conversation made me better, when we were together at Angoulême. Oh!
what shall I give you in this mortal life for the immortal life that I
then received?'[41]

[Sidenote: CALVIN'S FRIENDS.]

The frequent visits paid to the _Greek_ by persons of consideration were
soon remarked by the clergy; on the other hand, Bouteville desired to
substitute more regular conferences for these simple conversations. He
lived at the castle of Gérac, situated in a less frequented
district.[42] 'Come to my house,' he said to his friends, 'and let each
of us state freely his convictions and objections.' Calvin hesitated
about going: 'he was fond of solitude, and spoke little in company;' but
the thought of bringing his friends to the Gospel decided him.

[Sidenote: CONFERENCES AT GÉRAC.]

One day, therefore, the modest doctor appeared in the midst of the Prior
of Bouteville's guests; one idea had absorbed him on the road to Gérac.
He thought that 'truth is not a common thing; that it rises far above
the capacity of the human understanding, and that we ought to purchase
it at any price.' At last when he joined his friends, after mutual
greetings had been exchanged, he spoke to them of the subject that
filled his heart. He opened the Bible, placed his hand on it, and said,
'Let us find the truth!'[43]... 'The whole conference,' says Florimond
Rémond, a staunch Catholic, 'had no other object but _the investigation
of truth_, a phrase which he had generally in his mouth.' Calvin,
however, did not set himself up as an oracle: addressing the conscience,
he showed that Christ answered all the wants of the soul; the
conversation soon became animated, his friends bringing forward
objections. He never was at a loss; 'having a marvellous facility,' they
said, 'in penetrating suddenly the greatest difficulties and clearing
them up.' The visitors of Gérac departed joyfully to their homes.

After these conferences, Calvin returned quietly to his retreat, and
prayed for those to whom he had spoken and for others besides. 'If
sometimes we are cold in prayer,' he said, 'let us at once remember how
many of our brethren are sinking under heavy burdens and grievous
troubles; how many are oppressed by great anguish in their hearts and in
all extremity of evils.... We must have hearts of iron or steel, if such
sluggishness in prayer cannot then be expelled from our bosoms.'[44]

Calvin felt the necessity of giving a solid foundation to the faith of
his friends. 'A tree that is not deeply rooted,' he said, 'is easily
torn up by the first blast of the storm.' He then committed to paper, as
we have said, the first ideas of his _Christian Institutes_. One day, as
he was starting for Gérac, he took his notes with him, and read what he
had just written to the circle assembled in the castle.[45] He did this
several times afterwards; but the notes served merely as a text on which
he commented with much eloquence. 'No one can equal him,' they said, 'in
loftiness of language, conciseness of arrangement, and majesty of
style.' He was not content with stating this doctrine or that: His fine
understanding grasped the organic unity of the Christian truths, and he
was able to present them as a divine whole.[46] It was no doubt the cry
of his conscience which had led him to seek salvation in the Holy
Scriptures; but he had not been able to study, compare, and fathom them
without his understanding becoming enlightened, developed, and
sanctified. The moral faculty is that which is first aroused in the
Christian; but it immediately provokes the exercise of the intellectual
faculties. The citizens of the kingdom of God are not those who know,
but those who believe; not the learned, but the regenerated. A church in
which the intellectual faculty is above the moral faculty, does not bear
the stamp of the Protestant and Christian principle; but every church in
which the divine faculty of the understanding is neglected, and where
learning is viewed with distrust, will easily fall into deplorable
error.

Calvin's explanations, so deep and yet so clear, were not without their
use. Du Tillet, Chaillou, De la Place, Torsac, and others mutually
expressed their admiration and joy after the young doctor had retired;
then, at their homes and apart from the world, they meditated on the
consoling truths they had heard. Many of the most notable men of the
district were won over to evangelical convictions.[47] The Prior of
Bouteville, in particular, showed from that time so much faith and
zeal—he was, after Calvin's departure, so much the father and guide of
those who had received the seed of truth, that he was called throughout
the province: 'The Lutherans' Pope.'[48]

Calvin's sphere widened gradually: he wrote to those to whom he could
not speak;[49] and ere long his friends asked why they should keep for
themselves alone the bread of life on which they fed?... One of them
giving utterance to this thought to the young doctor added: 'But you can
only reach the people in the churches.' It was scarcely possible that
Calvin, a fugitive from Paris, could visit the churches of the Angoumois
as an evangelical missionary. 'Compose some short Christian exhortations
for us,' said his friends to him, 'and we will give them to
well-disposed parish priests to read to their congregations.'[50] He did
so, and humble clerks read these evangelical appeals from their pulpits,
as well as they could. Thus Calvin preached through the mouths of
priests to poor villagers, as he had addressed the imposing Sorbonne by
the mouth of the rector.

[Sidenote: CALVIN PROVIDES SERMONS.]

This encouraged certain church dignitaries, especially the prior, who
were at once his disciples and his patrons. If Calvin could not preach
in French, why should he not teach in Latin? They surrounded the young
doctor, representing to him that Latin, the language of the Roman
Church, could not occasion any scandal, and asked him to deliver some
Latin orations before the clergy. Calvin, firmly convinced that the
reform ought to begin with the teaching of the priest, preached several
Latin sermons in St. Peter's Church.[51] In this way he inaugurated his
career as a reformer. All this could not be done without giving rise to
murmurs. The faithful followers of Rome complained of him, of the prior,
of all his friends, and this opposition might become dangerous. 'Fatal
instrument,' says a Romanist with reference to Calvin's stay in the
Angoumois, 'which was destined to reduce France to greater extremities
than the Saracens, the Germans, the English, and the house of Austria
had done.'[52] He was not, however, the only one who was assisting in
this excellent work.

[36] Calvin, _Psaumes_, ch. civ.

[37] Drelincourt, _Défense du Calvinisme_, p. 40; Crottet,
_Chron. protest_. p. 96.

[38] _Perroniana._

[39] 'Ut erat omnibus qui litteras amabant carus.'—Flor. Rémond,
_Hist. Heres._ ii. 246.

[40] 'Sornettes, plaisantes rencontres, railleries, brocards, et toutes
niaiseries, lesquelles s'en vont en fumée.'

[41] 'Neque enim sum immemor quantum me meliorem reddideris.'—De la
Place to Calvin. Geneva MSS.

[42] 'In arce quadam, non procul ab oppido Engolismensi sita.'—Flor.
Rémond, _Hist. Heres._ ii. p. 247.

[43] Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Heres._ (French ed. liv. vii. p. 389;
Lat. ed. liv. vii. p. 251.)

[44] Calvini _Opp._ Ephes. vi.

[45] 'Ibi _Institutiones_ suas Calvinus depromebat quantum quoque
die scripsisset ipsis recitans.'—Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Heres._ ii.
p. 247.

[46] 'Theologiæ suæ mysteria revelabat atque explicabat.'—Ibid.

[47] 'Complures auctoritatis viros in suam sententiam pertraxit.'—Flor.
Rémond, _Hist. Heres._ ii. p. 247.

[48] 'Butevillani prior lutheranorum papa postea cognominatus.'—Ibid.

[49] Du Perron, in the _Perroniana_, mentions several of Calvin's
letters preserved by the Du Tillets.

[50] 'Amico cuidam cujus rogatu breves quasdam admonitiones Christianas
scripsit.'—Beza, _Vita Calvini_, Lat. p. 4; French, p. 15. Bayle
(sub voce _Calvin_) thinks that Du Tillet was the friend of whom
Beza speaks; perhaps it was Chaillou.

[51] 'Semel atque iterum in æde S. Petri obivit.'—Flor. Rémond, _Hist.
Heres._ ii. p. 251, &c. Crottet, _Chron. protest._ p. 97.

[52] Varillas, _Hist. des Révolutions Religieuses_, ii. p. 459.




 CHAPTER III.
 CALVIN AT NÉRAC WITH ROUSSEL AND LEFÈVRE.
 (WINTER OF 1533-34.)


[Sidenote: RELIGIOUS AWAKENING IN THE SOUTH.]

While Francis I. was endeavouring to stifle the Reformation in the north
of France, it was spreading in the south, and many souls were converted
in the districts bordering the Pyrenees. Evangelical Christians of other
countries, some of whom were ministers, had taken refuge there, and
'towns and villages were _perverted_ suddenly by hearing a single
sermon,' says a Roman Catholic historian. On certain days, the simple
peasants and even a few townspeople, arriving by different paths, would
meet in a retired spot, in the bed of some dried-up torrent or in a
cavern of the mountain. They had often to wait a long time for the
preacher; the priests and their creatures forced him to make a wide
circuit; sometimes he did not come at all. 'Then,' says a Catholic,
'women might be seen trampling on the modesty of their sex, taking a
Bible, reading it and even assuming the boldness to interpret it, while
waiting for the minister.'

At this epoch the Queen of Navarre arrived in the south. The noise
caused in 1533 by the rector's sermon and Calvin's disappearance, had
induced her to quit St. Germain for the states of her husband. Her
brother the king was then at a distance from Paris; her nieces with
their governesses, Mesdames de Brissac and De Montreal, and the somewhat
gloomy and oppressive etiquette which prevailed at the court of Queen
Eleanor of Portugal, was not much to the taste of the lively and
intelligent Margaret of Navarre. She therefore started for Nérac. Two
litters with six mules, three baggage mules, and three or four carriages
for the queen's women[53] entered the city, and took the road that leads
to the vast Gothic castle of the D'Albrets. It was a very scanty retinue
for the sister of Francis I.

[Sidenote: QUEEN MARGARET AT NÉRAC.]

Margaret alighted from her litter, and was hardly settled in her
apartments before she felt quite happy, for she had escaped at last from
the pomps and struggles of the court of France. She laid aside her showy
dresses and her grand manners; she hid the majesty of her house beneath
a candour and friendliness that enchanted all who came near her. Dressed
like a plain gentlewoman, she quitted the castle, crossed the Baise
which flows through the city, and rambled along the beautiful walks of
the neighbourhood, having for companions only the seneschaless of Poitou
or one of her young ladies of honour. But she had come for something
more than this. Having fled far from the palaces and cities where the
persecuting spirit of Rome and of the parliament was raging, she
occupied herself more particularly in giving a fresh impulse to the
evangelical movement in the southern provinces. Her activity was
inexhaustible. She sent out _colporteurs_ who made their way into
houses, and while selling jewellery to the young women, presented them
also with New Testaments, printed in fine characters, ruled in red and
bound in vellum with gilt edges. 'The mere sight of these books,' says
an historian, 'excited a desire to read them.' Around the queen
everybody was in motion, labouring and murmuring like a hive of bees.
'Margaret,' says the king's historiographer, 'was the precious flower
that adorned this parterre, and whose perfume attracted the best spirits
of Europe to Bearn, as thyme attracts honey-bees.'[54]

The queen might often be seen surrounded by a troop of sufferers, to
whom she showed the tenderest respect. These were the refugees: Lefèvre
of Etaples, Gerard Roussel, converted priests and monks, and a number of
laymen, obliged to leave France, which they had been able to do, thanks
to the queen who had assisted their flight. 'The good princess,' said a
Catholic, 'has really nothing more at heart than to get those out of the
way whom the king wishes to deliver up to the severities of justice. If
I attempted to give the names of all those whom she has saved from
punishment, I should never finish.'[55]

The Christians exiled for the Gospel did not make her forget the
wretched of her own country. One day, when Roussel was describing to her
the unfortunate situation of a poor family, Margaret said nothing; but
returning to her chamber, she threw a Bearnese hood over her shoulders,
and, followed by a single domestic, went out by a private door, hastened
to the sufferers, and comforted them with the tenderest affection.[56]

She took pleasure in founding schools. Roussel, her chaplain, would
visit the humble room in which the children of the people were learning
to read and write, and going up to them would say: 'My dear children ...
the death of Christ is a real atonement. There is no sin so small as not
to need it, or so great that it cannot be blotted out by it.[57] Praying
to God,' he would add, 'is not muttering with the lips: prayer is an
ardent and serious converse with the Lord.'[58]

[Sidenote: CALVIN AND ROUSSEL.]

There was one feature, however, in this awakening in the south which, in
Calvin's eyes, rendered it imperfect and transitory, unless some remedy
were applied to it. There was in it a certain halting between truth and
error. The pious but weak Roussel manifested a lamentable spirit of
compromise in his teaching. Wearied with the struggles he had gone
through, he sheltered himself under the cloak of the Catholic Church. He
did not pray to the Virgin, he administered the Holy Sacrament in two
kinds; but he celebrated a kind of mass—a mournful and yet touching
instance of that mixed Christianity which aimed at preserving
evangelical life under catholic forms.

Calvin at Angoulême was not far from Nérac, and his eyes were often
turned to that city. He longed to see Lefèvre before the old man was
taken from the world, and was uneasy about Roussel, whom he feared to
see yielding to the seductions of greatness. One of the christian
thoughts that had laid the strongest hold on his mind, was the
conviction that the wisdom from on high ought to reject every compromise
suggested by ambition or hypocrisy.[59] Ought he not to try and bring
back Roussel into the right path from which he appeared to be wandering?
Calvin left Du Tillet's house probably about the end of February, and
called upon Roussel as soon as he arrived at Nérac.

The most decided and the most moderate of the theologians of the
sixteenth century were now face to face. Calvin, naturally timid and
hesitating, 'would never have had the boldness so much as to open
his mouth (to use his own words); but faith in Christ begot such a
strong assurance in his heart, that he could not remain silent.' He,
therefore, gave his opinion with decision: 'There is no good left in
Catholicism,' he said. 'We must re-establish the Church in its ancient
purity.'[60]—'What is that you say?' answered the astonished
Roussel; 'God's house ought to be purified, no doubt, but not
destroyed.'[61]—'Impossible,' said the young reformer; 'the edifice is
so bad that it cannot be repaired. We must pull it down entirely, and
build another in its place.'[62]—Roussel exclaimed with alarm: 'We must
cleanse the Church, but not by setting it on fire. If we take upon
ourselves to pull it down, we shall be crushed under the ruins.'[63]

Calvin retired in sorrow. Type of protestant decision in the sixteenth
century, he always protested freely and boldly against everything that
was contrary to the Gospel. He displayed this unshakeable firmness not
only in opposition to catholic tendencies, but also against
rationalistic ideas. It would not be difficult to find in Zwingle, in
Melanchthon, and even in Luther, some sprinkling of neology, of which
the slightest traces cannot be found in Calvin.

[Sidenote: CALVIN AND LEFÈVRE.]

Nérac, as we have said, sheltered another teacher—an old man whom age
might have made weaker than Roussel, but who under his white hair and
decrepid appearance concealed a living force, to be suddenly revived by
contact with the great faith of the young scholar. Calvin asked for
Lefèvre's house: everybody knew him: 'He is a little bit of a man, old
as Herod, but lively as gunpowder,' they told him.[64] As we have seen,
Lefèvre had professed the great doctrine of justification by faith, even
before Luther; but after so many years, the aged doctor still indulged
in the vain hope of seeing Catholicism reform itself. 'There ought to be
only one Church,' he would frequently repeat, and this idea prevented
his separation from Rome. Nevertheless, his spiritualist views permitted
him to preserve the unity of charity with all who loved Christ.

When Calvin was admitted into his presence, he discerned the great man
under his puny stature, and was caught by the charm which he exercised
over all who came near him. What mildness, what depth, what knowledge,
modesty, candour, loftiness, piety, moral grandeur, and holiness, had
been said of him![65] It seemed as if all these virtues illuminated the
old man with heavenly brightness just as the night of the grave was
about to cover him with its darkness. On his side, the young man pleased
Lefèvre, who began to tell him how the opposition of the Sorbonne had
compelled him to take refuge in the south, 'in order,' as he said, 'to
escape the bloody hands of those doctors.'[66]

Calvin endeavoured to remove the old man's illusions. He showed him that
we must receive everything from the Word and from the grace of God. He
spoke with clearness, with decision, and with energy. Lefèvre was
moved—he reflected a little and weeping exclaimed: 'Alas! I know the
truth, but I keep myself apart from those who profess it.' Recovering,
however, from his trouble, he wiped his eyes, and seeing his young
fellow-countryman 'rejecting all the fetters of this world and preparing
to fight under the banner of Jesus,' he examined him more attentively,
and asked himself if he had not before him that future reformer whom he
had once foretold:[67] 'Young man,' he said, 'you will be one day a
powerful instrument in the Lord's hand.[68]... The world will
obstinately resist Jesus Christ, and everything will seem to conspire
against the Son of God; but stand firm on that rock, and many will be
broken against it. God will make use of you to restore the kingdom of
heaven in France.'[69] In 1509 Luther, being of the same age as Calvin
in 1534, heard a similar prophecy from the mouth of a venerable doctor.

Yet, if we may believe a catholic historian, the old man did not stop
there. His eyes, resting with kindness on the young man, expressed a
certain fear. He fancied he saw a young horse which, however admirable
its spirit, might dash beyond all restraint. 'Be on your guard,' he
added, 'against the extreme ardour of your mind.[70] Take Melanchthon as
your pattern, and let your strength be always tempered with charity.'
The old man pressed the young man's hand, and they parted never to see
each other again.

Did Calvin see the Queen of Navarre also? It does not appear that
Margaret was living at Nérac at that time; but he had some relations
with her. It has been said that she felt an interest in his exile;[71]
and it is possible that she had some share in the resolution he soon
formed of quitting the south. She may have assured him that he had
nothing to fear in Paris, if he committed no imprudence. But we have
found nothing certain on these points.

[Sidenote: CALVIN REBUKES THE UNEQUALLY YOKED.]

For the present, Calvin returned to Du Tillet's. The visits made to
Roussel and Lefèvre had taught him a lesson. He comprehended that it was
not only souls blindly submissive to Rome that incurred imminent danger;
he conceived the liveliest alarm for those minds which floated between
the pope and the Word of God, either through weakness or want of light.
He saw that as the limit between the two churches was not yet clearly
traced, some of those who belonged to Rome were lingering beneath the
fresh and verdant shades of the Gospel, while others who ought to belong
to the Reformation still wandered beneath the gothic arches of Romish
cathedrals and prostrated themselves at the foot of Romish altars. This
state of things—possibly approved of by many—Calvin thought dangerous,
and his principles going farther, he undertook 'to rebuke freely (as he
says) those who yoked with unbelievers, keeping them company in outward
idolatry.'[72]

[53] Brantôme, _Capitaines illustres_, p. 235.

[54] Olhagaray, _Hist. de Foix_, &c. p. 505.

[55] Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Heres._ viii. ch. ii.

[56] Sainte Marthe, _Oraison funèbre de la Reine de Navarre_.

[57] MSS. fol. 2. Schmidt, p. 131.

[58] MSS. fol. 89 _a_, 177 _b_.—Ibid. pp. 145, 157.

[59] Calvini _Opp._ James iii. 17.

[60] 'Ecclesia in pristinam puritatem restituenda propositum ei aperuit,
inquiens nihil omnino sani in catholica superesse ecclesia.'—Flor.
Rémond, _Hist. Heres._ ii. p. 272.

[61] 'Non destruendam sed fulciendam.'—Ibid.

[62] 'Vetus illud ædificium planissime esse dejiciendum, et novum
instruendum.'—Ibid.

[63] 'Ejusdem ruinis sepultum.'—Ibid.

[64] Bayle, _Dictionnaire critique_, sub voce.

[65] 'Eruditione, pietate, animi generositate nobilissimus.'—Bezæ
_Icones_.

[66] 'Ut vix illorum manus cruentas effugerit.'—Bezæ _Icones_.

[67] 'Futurum augurant.'—Beza, _Vita Calvini_.

[68] 'Insigne instrumentum.'—Ibid.

[69] 'Cœlestis in Gallia instaurandi regni.'—Ibid.

[70] Ne perfervidum hoc ingenium omnia misceret atque everteret.'—Flor.
Rémond, ii. p. 272.

[71] Freer's _Life of Marguerite_, ii. p. 120.

[72] 'Rédarguer librement ceux qui s'accouplant avec les infidèles, leur
tenaient compagnie en idolâtrie externe.'—Calvin, _Comm. in 2 ad
Cor._, cap. vii.




 CHAPTER IV.
 A DRAMATIC REPRESENTATION AT THE COURT OF NAVARRE.
 (WINTER OF 1533-34.)


Henry and Margaret having quitted Nérac for Pau, where they intended
passing the winter, had reached those picturesque heights, separated by
a ravine, on which the city stands, and had entered the castle. The
queen had found pleasure in adorning it with the most magnificent
gardens then known in Europe, and liked to walk in them, conversing with
Cardinal de Foix, the Bishop of Tarbes, and many other distinguished
persons who admired her wit and grace. And yet these ecclesiastics often
caused her 'much vexation.' Surrounded by persons who made a regular
report to Francis I., watched by the king her husband and the
dignitaries of the Church who were at her court, this pious but weak
woman bent under the weight. She began the day by attending morning
service in the catholic church of the parish; then in the afternoon she
privately collected in her chamber the evangelical members of her court,
and the little band of exiles, with a few men and women of the people
who, coming forward awkwardly, took their seats timidly on the handsome
furniture of the queen. Roussel, Lefèvre, or some other minister,
delivered an exhortation, and the little assembly separated, feeling
that God had really been present in the midst of them.[73]

[Sidenote: THE LORD'S SUPPER AT PAU.]

One day some of these humble believers desired to partake of the Lord's
Supper. The queen was embarrassed: she did not dare celebrate it in the
church, nor even in her own room, lest one of the cardinals should enter
suddenly.... After some reflection Margaret thought she had found what
was wanted. Under the terrace of the castle there was a large hall
called _the Mint_, a secret underground place that could be approached
without attracting notice. By the queen's orders her servants privately
carried a table there, covered it with a white cloth, and placed a basin
on it containing 'a few slices of plain bread,' and by its side some
cups full of wine 'instead of chalices.'—'Such are their altars!'
ironically exclaims the catholic historian.

On the appointed day, the believers, silent and agitated, came and took
their places not without fear of being discovered. The queen, forgetting
the pomps of the Louvre, sat down among them as a simple Christian.
Roussel appeared, but not in sacerdotal costume, and stood in front of
the table. 'Those who believe that there is nothing but an empty sign in
the Sacrament,' he said, 'are not of the school of faith.'[74] He took
common bread, says the indignant catholic narrator, 'and not little
round wafers stamped with images.'—'Remember,' continued Roussel with a
grave voice, 'that Christ suffered and died for us.' He then handed
round the cup 'without making the sign of the cross!' The worshippers,
deeply moved, bore a heavenly expression on their faces and felt the
presence of the Lord: 'The same Christ dwelt in the minister and in the
people.' No spy nor cardinal appeared, and the communicants, after
presenting an offering for the poor, withdrew in peace.[75]

Notwithstanding its secresy, this celebration was talked about in the
castle. The King of Navarre was quite annoyed at it. A thoughtless,
changeable, and ever violent man, and liable to occasional worldly
relapses, he began to grow impatient at his wife's piety, and especially
at the 'feastings in the cellar.' He was habitually in a bad humour, and
found fault with all that Margaret did.

One day as he returned to the castle from a hunting-party, he asked
where the queen was. He was told that a minister was preaching in her
chamber. At these words the king's face flushed. A faithful servant ran
to warn the queen: ministers and hearers escaped by a back way, and they
had hardly left the room, when Henry entered abruptly. He stopped,
looked round him, and seeing only the queen, agitated and trembling, he
struck her in the face, saying: 'Madame, you desire to know too much.'
He then left her indignant and confounded. This affront offered to the
dignity of the royal family of France did not pass unnoticed: Francis
'scolded Henry d'Albret soundly,' says Brantôme.[76]

[Sidenote: THE MYSTERY OF THE NATIVITY.]

Margaret, eager to win over her husband and to be agreeable to her
court, resolved to have a representation of some biblical dramas.
Possibly she might by this means reach those who would not come to the
sermons. She took for her subject _The Birth_ _of the Saviour_, and
having completed her poem distributed the parts among certain noble
maidens. These biblical representations, which displeased Calvin,
because of their theatrical form, and the Romish clergy because of their
evangelical truths, charmed the middle party, and as they belong to the
religious history of the epoch, we cannot pass them by unnoticed.
Margaret fitted up the great hall of the castle as a theatre. The
scenery was prepared, and shortly after Christmas placards announced the
representation of 'The Nativity of Jesus Christ.'[77]

When the day came the hall was crowded. In the front rank of the
amphitheatre sat the king and queen, the latter wearing a plain dress
trimmed with marten's fur and a Bearnese hood. Near them were the
Cardinals De Grammont and De Foix with other members of the clergy.
Around the royal pair were Margaret's inseparable maids of
honour—Mademoiselle de St. Pather, the usual distributor of her alms,
Mademoiselle de la Batenage, Blanche de Tournon, Françoise de Clermont,
Madame d'Avangour, the greatest 'eaves-dropper' of the court, the
chancellor, chamberlains, and almoners. Her ten stewards, her esquires
and thirty-eight maids, her seventeen secretaries, and her twenty
valets-de-chambre were most of them present.[78] The invited strangers
occupied seats according to their rank. A first representation has
rarely excited more curiosity.

[Sidenote: THE MYSTERY-PLAY.]

The first act begins. The scene is placed at Nazareth, in the house of a
poor carpenter. A man in the prime of life and a young woman are talking
together. A proclamation has just been published in the market-place
ordering every one to go to the city of their family to be registered.
But these poor people belong to Bethlehem, and Bethlehem is a long way
from Nazareth. The woman is soon to become a mother, and the man is
uneasy about the consequences of the journey. The young Israelitish
woman, whose calm meek features indicate the serenity of a pious soul,
says to him:

  ... Us no danger shall come nigh,
  For He whose power o'ershadowed me,
  Holds in his hand both fruit and tree.[79]

The scene changes, and we are at Bethlehem. It is quite dark, but a few
lights are visible through the windows of the houses. The same man and
woman—they are Joseph and Mary—have just arrived from Nazareth after a
fatiguing journey. Joseph, still anxious, begins:

  It is late and already night ...
  Let us approach the nearest light.

He knocks at the door, and asks to be admitted. The owner of the house
looks contemptuously on them and says that he lodges none but rich
people. Joseph goes a little farther on and knocks at another door:

  Will you please lodge my wife and me?
  For the poor woman, as you see,
  Is near her time.

This man looks as contemptuously upon them as the other, and answers
that he takes in none but noblemen. Joseph, still undiscouraged, points
out a third man to his wife and says:

  Here is a man with pleasant look.

He speaks to him, but the man is a _bon vivant_, and is annoyed by the
care-worn appearance of the travellers. 'I like,' he says,

  Dances, sports, women, good-cheer ...
  No kill-joys are wanted here.
  Pass on, my friends;

Joseph, with a deep sigh:

  Onward then, and God will tell
  Where he pleases we should dwell.

But wearied by the journey, and uneasy about her condition, Mary begins
to change countenance:

  Woe's me, I feel the hour draw near
  For the long-looked-for fruit t'appear.

At these words, the startled Joseph looks round him, and discovering at
last a poor stable, which the wind penetrates on every side, he presses
Mary to enter it:

                      I will take care
  To shelter you from every hurtful air.

He settles the young woman as comfortably as he can in the rude shed,
and prepares to go into the town to get what she requires.

  MARY.

  Go, go, my friend: I shall not be alone,
  For where God is, there also is my home.

Mary remaining alone offers up a touching prayer to her heavenly Father;
then, yielding to her fatigue, she lies down upon the straw and falls
asleep.

The scene changes to heaven. The eyes of the Lord, which 'look upon the
sons of men,' are turned upon the earth, and are fixed with kindness on
Mary, whose sleep is gentle and peaceful. Then as the great moment
approaches, He orders the angels to leave heaven and announce to mankind
the news of a great joy. He gives each of them a message; some are to go
to Mary, others to Simeon. The humblest of them says:

            ... And I, Lord ...
  I will go seek the least of all,
    And tell him how _great_ he has become
  Since the great one has become small.

Hymns of praise immediately resound through heaven:

  Glory to Thee, Almighty Lord!

And the angels depart upon their mission.

The scene changes, and we are once more in the stable at Bethlehem. Mary
awakes and is still alone. Her heart is agitated by the most astounding
thoughts: the mystery of God which she discerns surprises and confounds
her.

  Strange! a virgin ... yet a mother
  Of a son above all other,
    Very God and very man!
  Emanuel! of the Father dearest Son ...
  May my hands be joined with thine?
  May thy lips be touched by mine?

At this moment the angels sent by God arrive: they enter the wretched
stable, filling it with their glory, and each salutes the poor virgin of
Nazareth in his own fashion. One of them says:

          All hail, happy dame,
  Mother of the Son thou lov'st so dearly!

Another, whose character appears to be humility, addresses the new-born
child:

  Little child, pray spare me not ...
  Though I'm small I shall delight
  To wait upon you day and night,
  To wash you or to warm your bed.[80]...

At this point Joseph returns with the provisions he has bought; he is
distressed at his inability to receive becomingly this child of heaven,
but resolving to give all that he has, he advances towards the stable.
On a sudden he stops in surprise ... he looks ... a divine light fills
the humble shed, and shines all around.

    What a strange gleam
    There comes from within!
  I'm like a man in a maze:
    I am quite sure
    I never before
  Saw such a glorious blaze.

He stops at the threshold and looks in. The angels have disappeared, and
he says:

    Mary, I see,
    Has not lost her glee,
  Her face with joy runs o'er ...
    But why does she stare,
    This virgin dear,
  So constantly on the floor?

Joseph looks more carefully, as he stands motionless at the door, and
discovers Jesus who has just been born:

  Yes! 't is the child!

The honest carpenter does not know what to do; he dares not approach,
and yet he cannot remain apart; a struggle takes place in his soul.

  Here will I stay ...
    No! I must go in.

At last Joseph comes forward: he looks at the child, and kneeling humbly
before him, worships and kisses him.

  With this kiss I would cool
    My heart with charity burning.
  What a charming child,
  So handsome and mild,
    And that's the truth, I assure you.

Mary is uneasy: she looks at the child, so weak and tender, and is
distressed at having nothing to wrap him in,

  For the night is cold.

  JOSEPH.

  I shall light this taper.

He then lights the lamp.

  Where shall we put him? In the manger here ...
  No better place in all the inn.

This was the end of the first act. The spectators expressed the interest
they felt in the drama, at once so serious and so holy; and even the
Cardinals De Grammont and De Foix found nothing in it contrary to the
doctrines of the Church. As that was a time when people were very fond
of diversion, joke and jest followed. Several comic characters appeared
in the interlude, especially a poor monk, who was the soul of the
farce.[81] This was not Margaret's composition: even the catholics did
not charge her with it. The jesters retired at last, and the drama
proceeded.

The scene represented the fields round Bethlehem, where shepherds and
shepherdesses were keeping their flocks during the watches of the night.
One shepherd worn out with labour, another with 'hunting the wolf,' had
fallen asleep; some shepherdesses followed their example; but one
shepherd and one shepherdess were awake and communicating their thoughts
to each other.

  THIRD SHEPHERD.

  A something keeps me wide awake;
  My usual sleep I cannot take.
  It is not my flock, I'm sure,
  For the fold is quite secure;
  In my heart a joy I feel
    And I seem good news to hear ...
  Meanwhile I shall turn my eyes
  To the star-bespangled skies.

He contemplates the firmament.

  FIRST SHEPHERDESS.

  What seest thou, brother, when thine eye
  Thou turn'st admiring to the sky?

  THIRD SHEPHERD.

  I admire the great Creator
  Who hath made all things, and we
  Are his temple....

  FIRST SHEPHERDESS.

  Tell me, shepherd, what He promised
  To the patriarchs who waited
  Patiently for ages?...

  THIRD SHEPHERD.

  He has promised the Messiah,
  His true Son, through whom alone
  Life to us has been restored,
  And salvation.

  FIRST SHEPHERDESS.

  Would to God the hour was nigh!

  THIRD SHEPHERD.

  Come, Lord, and no longer tarry!

Suddenly a bright light shines over the fields of Bethlehem, and a
heavenly voice says:

  Shepherds, awake, arise!
    Behold the happy day,
  When God by works for ever new
    Shall his great love display.

The sleeping shepherds and shepherdesses awake; they look about them and
perceive the angels surrounded with a heavenly glory.

  FIRST SHEPHERD.

  Heavens! what means this brightness here?
  I am almost numbed with fear.

  SECOND SHEPHERDESS.

  By this clear and glorious light
  My weak eyes are dazzled quite.

  FIRST ANGEL.

  Gentle shepherds, do not fear,
  I am come your hearts to cheer,
  With glad tidings....
  For to you upon this morn
  The Saviour Jesus Christ is born.
  As 'twas writ; and this the sign
  How to know the child divine;
  Wrapped in swaddling bands, the Son
  Has a manger for a throne....
  The Jesus whom the Lord has sent
  To fulfil his covenant.

All the angels then sing the hymn of praise:

  Glory be to God most high.

  SECOND SHEPHERD.

  Let us haste and feast our eyes
  Where the hope of mortals lies.

  THIRD SHEPHERD.

  In a hut so mean and poor,
  If we cannot pass the door,
  We can through some crevice spy[82]
  Where our Lord and King doth lie.

The shepherds and shepherdesses converse as they go on the reception
they will give to the Messiah, with a simplicity that may appear
excessive, but which is not devoid of grace and genuineness.

  FIRST SHEPHERD AND SHEPHERDESS.

  Let us from our plenty bear
  Presents to their scanty fare.

  THIRD SHEPHERD.

  Here's a cheese I'll take with me
  In this basket.

  SECOND SHEPHERD.

                And you see,
  This great bowl of milk I'll carry,
  And I hope 'twill please sweet Mary.

  FIRST SHEPHERD.

  I shall give this cage and bird.

  SECOND SHEPHERD.

  I this faggot, for, my word!
  The weather's cold.

  THIRD SHEPHERD.

                  This rude toy,
  This rustic flute will please the boy.

  FIRST SHEPHERDESS.

  I will kiss his very cheek....

  SECOND SHEPHERD.

  Nay! 't is honour sure enough
  But to kiss him in the foot.[83]

Shepherds and shepherdesses all leave the fields and hurry to Bethlehem.

The scene again changes to this town, where the shepherds and
shepherdesses arrive and look for the place where the child lies.

  SECOND SHEPHERD.

  In this house with paint so gay
  The holy child would never stay.

  THIRD SHEPHERD.

  Nor in this palace would he rest,
  But rather in some humbler nest.

  FIRST SHEPHERDESS, _searching carefully_.

  There's a place in this rude rock;
  Can it be the honoured spot?

Shepherds and shepherdesses draw near, and looking through the cracks in
the wall of the poor stable, discover Mary and Jesus. The second
shepherd exclaims with rapture:

  There's the child ... and there's the mother....

  THIRD SHEPHERDESS.

                  See how mild
  Hangs on his mother's breast the child.

  SECOND SHEPHERD.

                 Call yon man to ope the door....
  (_to Joseph_)  Hola! master....

  JOSEPH.

  What means that noise without?

  FIRST SHEPHERD.

  The true fruit of heaven we seek.

  MARY.

  If God hath this great fact revealed,
  By us it must not be concealed;
  For to believers we the Christ must show:
  Open the door....

  JOSEPH, _opening the door_.

  You can come in.

The shepherds and shepherdesses approach respectfully, and puny as the
child appears, they recognise in him the height of the eternal Majesty,
and worship him:

  THIRD SHEPHERD.

      ... Thou art the promised seed
  To Adam after his misdeed.
  Abraham and David on this relied,
  And both alike were justified.

  SECOND SHEPHERD.

  The eye beholds a weak and powerless child;
  But faith which comes of knowledge bids us bow
  In honour and in adoration at his feet,
  As the true God.

After the adoration of the shepherds, the shepherdesses, a little
curious, surround Mary and enter into conversation with her.

  THIRD SHEPHERDESS.

  How is't no costly robes he owns:
  Silver and gold and precious stones?

  MARY.

  Simplicity he liketh best,
  Nor will he in choice clothes be dressed.

The first streaks of dawn begin to appear.

  SECOND SHEPHERD.

  The day is near ... I must begone.

  FIRST SHEPHERDESS, _approaching Mary_.

  May I just give his little toe
  One single kiss before I go.[84]

  THIRD SHEPHERDESS.

  Our hands have touched, our eyes have seen,
  The Lamb who takes away our sin.

The shepherds and shepherdesses then present their humble offerings.

  FIRST SHEPHERD.

  Serving thee we'll live and die,
  For without thee life is naught.

The second act being finished, a new interlude was introduced to make
the spectators merry. The jesters reappeared and recited several
rondeaux, always containing some piquant and unexpected joke, which
called forth the laughter of the audience. The burden of the _virelais_
(poems composed of very short lines, and with two rhymes) usually turned
on some monk, which greatly diverted the spectators. The cardinals and
the catholics who took pleasure in the drama were annoyed by the
satires.[85]

The third act began. Satan, who was making the tour of the world,
arrived over the fields of Bethlehem, whither the shepherds had
returned, and absorbed in his own thoughts, said to himself:

  I have reigned until this hour
  And subdued earth to my power;
  With God above have warred unceasing,
  And my triumphs are increasing.

The shepherdesses, to whom he was invisible, expressed their joy in
hymns:

  Shepherdesses, maidens fair,
    Listen to the song we sing:
    Tidings of great joy we bring,
  That take away all mortal care.

Satan stopped and listened: becoming alarmed, he exclaimed:

  This is a hymn that chills my blood ...
  What tidings have they heard?

The shepherdesses, still unconscious of Satan's presence, continue
singing:

  Hail! to the Virgin-born,
    Hail! to the Lord and Son,
  Who in this happy morn,
    The veil of earth puts on.
  Loud praise to God be given
  Who makes us heirs of heaven.

Satan listening, and still more uneasy:

  To learn this secret, how I've toiled!
  Shall it be hidden from me now?

He disguises himself, and approaches the shepherds under the form of a
great lord, and says to them:

  Whence come you?

  FIRST SHEPHERD.

  From seeing Christ, the Saviour of mankind,
  By whom in God we are regenerate.
  Will you not go and see him, mighty lord?
  I'll show the way.

  SATAN.

  Can this be true, or is it all a dream?

  SECOND SHEPHERD.

  Go and see for yourself....

  SATAN.

    God from his throne on high
    For this world does not care....
    I am its king ... yes, I....
    . . . .
  Come with me and make good cheer ...
  But you must believe no mo'
  That God can ever stoop so low.

  THIRD SHEPHERD.

  He is my father, brother, all ...
    I am his from head to foot.[86]
  God is for me, and no false one
    Shall this heavenly faith uproot.

  SATAN.

  Fools and madmen! are ye gods?...

  FIRST SHEPHERD.

  To the Son we leave the glory
  Of being God.  Enough for us
  To be whatso'er he pleases,
  And to know that He's the great I AM.

  SATAN.

  _Can you understand the Scriptures?_

  THIRD SHEPHERD.

  _With all humbleness we read them._

  SATAN.

  Were he your father as you call him,
  Would he leave you thus accursed,
  Suffering poverty and want?
  Blind ones, open wide your eyes!
  Have you ever known a rich man
  Leave his son, like field untilled?
    Sons of God, indeed! whose store
    Are cold and hunger, rags, and all that's poor.

  SECOND SHEPHERD.

  More we suffer, more our joys redouble;
  For all your pleasures we'll not give a double.[87]

  THIRD SHEPHERD.

  In our hearts the Christ doth dwell
  Who has conquered death and hell.

At these words Satan becomes confused; he calls to mind his former
defeats, and knowing that the Son of God must crush him under his feet,
exclaims in terror:

  Murdered Lamb, who didst expel
  Me and mine from heaven to hell....
  Thou still pursuest, and no place
  Can hide me from thy angry face.

Then the mysterious voice of God is heard again proclaiming the victory
of the new-born child:

  Satan's tyrant reign is o'er;
    By the spotless Lamb 'tis ended,
  Who to suffer on the cross
    For us sinners has consented....
  At my right the Lamb shall sit ...
  Angels sing the Lamb exalted
    High o'er all, and Satan quelled.

Then the angels sing the song of triumph, which ends the play:

  Glory be to God on high,
  Who our greatest enemy,
    Satan, hath o'erthrown.
  Honours to the Lamb express
  By whom all the blessedness
    Of the Father is made known.

The representation was finished and every one retired in admiration. The
king was grateful for this condescension in his wife, and Margaret took
advantage of it to induce him to listen to a few sermons. 'From the
comedy he went to the preaching, which took place in the queen's
chamber,' says a contemporary historian.[88]

All were not equally satisfied with these representations. Cardinals De
Grammont and De Foix withdrew from the court, while the stricter
christians asked if it was lawful to introduce angels and even God
himself on the stage. If Calvin had gone on from Nérac to Pau, and had
been present, not far from the cardinals, at this mystery-play, he would
no doubt have blamed such performances, which he termed 'christianity in
disguise.'

It is time to follow the reformer.

[73] Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Heres._ lib. vii. cap. iii.

[74] MS. de la Biblioth. impér., No. 7021, fol. 146. Schmidt,
_Roussel_, p. 151.

[75] Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Heres._ lib. viii. cap. xii.

[76] Brantôme, _Mémoires_. De Coste, _Reines illustres_. Matthieu,
_Hist. de François I._

[77] This drama, which we have been forced to abridge, will be found in
the _Marguerites de la Marguerite_, tom. i. pp. 148-206.

[78] _Marguerite d'Angoulême_, par le comte de la Ferrière-Percy,
pp. 9, 13.

[79] In translating the extracts for this poem, no attempt has been made
to give a polish to the verses, which was not found in the original.

[80]

  Petit enfant, ne veuillez épargner
  Moi très-petit ... car, soit pour vous baigner,
  Ou pour chauffer vos draps en votre lit,
  À vous servir je prendrai grand délit (_délice._)

[81] 'Qui pro primo esset.'—Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Heres._ vii. cap.
iii.

[82] Il y aura quelque fente ou crevasse.

[83] C'est assez au talon.

[84]

  Madame, au moins, son petit bout d'orteil
  Pour le baiser.

[85] Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Heres._ vii. cap. iii.

[86] Je suis à lui de l'un à l'autre bout.

[87]

  Plus nous souffrons, plus notre joie redouble;
  De vos plaisirs ne donnons pas un _double_.[87a]

[87a] The _double_ was the sixth part of a _sou_.

[88] Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Hérés._ vii. cap. iii.




 CHAPTER V.
 CALVIN AT POITIERS, AT THE BASSES-TREILLES, AND IN ST. BENEDICT'S CAVES.
 (SPRING 1534.)


Calvin meditated leaving the South. He had found a retreat in the hour
of danger; but as the storm seemed to blow over, he could go at last
from the place where he had been hidden, and resume a career that had
been so roughly interrupted. He was not at ease in Angoulême. On the one
hand the conversion of Du Tillet and some of his friends gave rise to
rumours among the clergy and people; and on the other, certain
traditional elements that Margaret and some of his hearers at Gérac
desired to retain, were displeasing to the reformer. Altars, images,
holidays dedicated to Mary and the saints, confessors and
confession—none of these things appeared to him scriptural, and he
sighed for the time when he could make the evangelical principle prevail
in all its integrity. He was in the habit of saying: 'Above all things
we must confess our Lord fully, without shrinking from anything
soever.'[89]

[Sidenote: CALVIN'S PROJECTS.]

Where should he go? His thoughts led him first to Poitiers, whence he
proposed to visit Orleans, Paris, and then Germany and Switzerland, to
study and gain knowledge by intercourse with the reformers. In their
conversations at Gérac the Sieur de Torras had often spoken of Pierre de
la Place, who was then studying at Poitiers. Calvin would also meet
there with Charles le Sage, regent of the university, like himself a
native of Noyon. One consideration restrained him: Could he leave Du
Tillet? 'Where you go, I will go,' said the young canon; 'my heart is
filled with the faith that animates you.'[90] The idea of enjoying
Calvin's society at every moment, and of seeing in Switzerland and
Germany the noble-hearted men who were reforming the Church, filled him
with joy.[91]

The two friends departed: Calvin under the name of Charles d'Espeville,
and Du Tillet under that of Hautmont, which seems to have been borne by
some members of his family. They arrived (probably about the end of
March 1534) in those plains and heaths of Poitou where so many great
battles had been fought, and where a humble combatant was approaching to
engage in nobler contests. Few provinces in France were so well
prepared. Abelard, who had lived in these western districts, had left
behind him some traces of the doubts set forth in his celebrated
treatise, _Sic et Non_ (Yes and No),[92] on the doctrines of the Church.
Here too a writer, unconnected with the Reform, had attacked the
_papomania_, and the clergy, who formed (it was said) a third part of
the population, exasperated the two others by their avarice and
irregularities.

[Sidenote: CALVIN AT POITIERS.]

Calvin stayed at Poitiers with Messire Fouquet, prior of Trois-Moutiers,
a learned ecclesiastic, and a friend of the Du Tillets, who had a house
there. The university was flourishing, it possessed learned professors,
and had a famous library. The desire of understanding—a feeling
springing up everywhere in France—was particularly felt here. The prior
of Trois-Moutiers conversed with his two guests on the public
disputations that were going on in the university. This excited Calvin's
attention: he went to the hall, sat down on one of the benches, and
listened attentively. No one, as he looked at this stranger, would have
supposed that under those pale, unattractive features was hidden one of
the heroes who change the face of the world in the name of truth alone.
Beneath much quibbling and idle trash the young doctor could see flashes
of light here and there. After the disputation, he called upon those
combatants from whom he had heard the language of christianity; he
stated his own ideas, and ere long the beauty of his genius and the
frankness of his language won them over. Calvin and these generous men
became friends and visited each other; at length, says an historian,
'they began to take walks together without the city,'[93] and as they
walked along the banks of the little river Clain, or rambled over the
fields, the young doctor spoke to them openly of Christ and of eternity.

They did not trouble themselves, indeed, with scholastic theology and
metaphysical formulas: Calvin aimed at the conquest of their souls. He
required in every one the formation of a new man, and cared about
nothing else. In the midst of the disheartening weaknesses and immense
necessities of fallen humanity, a great spiritual restoration must be
carried out; the hour had come, and to accomplish the work it needed
special men invested with power from on high. Calvin was one of these
strong men, whom God has sent to the aid of human decay. At the moment
of the awakening, after the slumber of the Middle Ages, the heavenly
Father bestowed new creative forces on mankind. The Gospel, then
restored to the world, possessed a beauty which attracted men's souls,
and an authority which wrought in them an absolute obedience: these are
the two regenerating elements. All over Europe prophets arose among the
people, but they did not prophesy at their own impulse. Above them was
the sovereign, free, living, supernatural God who worked in them with
supreme power.

Calvin was about to begin at Poitiers a work of regeneration. Indeed no
long time elapsed before numerous hearers crowded round him. Some were
offended by his words; and there were some who, looking only for
disputations and sophistry, tormented the young doctor with their
accustomed insolence; while others opposed the heretic 'with dilemmas
and cunning catches.' Others, again, who thought themselves masters of
the world, turned their backs on him, 'as if he were an ordinary
mountebank.' Calvin, surprised at such resistance, 'instead of
entangling himself in useless disputes,' seriously thrust aside these
frivolous subtleties, and 'put forward what is true.'[94]

[Sidenote: CALVIN'S FRIENDS.]

But if the doctrine he announced met with enemies, it also met with
friends. The word of God perpetually separates light from darkness in
the spiritual world, as it did at the time of the creation of heaven and
earth. Generous men gathered eagerly round the young and powerful
doctor. These were Albert Babinot, jurist, poet, and law-reader; Anthony
Veron, procureur to the lower court; Anthony de la Dugie, doctor-regent;
Jean Boisseau de la Borderie, advocate; Jean Vernou of Poitiers, the
Sieur de St. Vertumien, and Charles le Sage, doctor-regent, a man of
great esteem, who possessed the entire confidence of Madame, the king's
mother.[95] One of these distinguished men especially won Calvin's
heart: it was Pierre de la Place, a native of Angoulême, a friend of Du
Tillet, afterwards president of the Court of Aids, and one of the St.
Bartholomew martyrs. But Le Sage, another of these eminent men, kept
himself rather aloof; he was from Noyon, and was not very anxious to put
himself in the train of the son of the old episcopal secretary;
moreover, he believed sincerely in the miracle of transubstantiation.

This group of distinguished men, which now gathered round Calvin at
Poitiers, as formerly at Angoulême, fixed the attention of those who had
any intercourse with him. Calvin's attractive power, which is somewhat
doubted in the present day, struck even his enemies. 'Knowledge as well
as virtue,' says one of them on this occasion, 'soon wins love, and
eminent minds, whether for good or evil, require little time to become
known. Calvin, having retired to Poitiers, soon met with good store of
friends.'[96] He met them at the university, went to see them at their
houses, courted their society, and spoke freely of the knowledge of
God.[97] On many points they thought from the very first like him. When
he complained 'that they worshipped stocks and stones, prayed to the
dead, trusted in vain things, and desired to serve God by idle
ceremonies,'[98] everybody agreed with him, even Le Sage. But the young
doctor went still farther. Doubtless he condemned 'a rugged austerity;
he recommended people to be _loving_ (aimables) and kind to their
neighbours.'[99] But at the same time, he was true, even at the risk of
displeasing. Being present one day when some sincere catholics were
defending the doctrine of transubstantiation, Calvin unhesitatingly
declared, that we must receive Christ, even his body and blood, by
faith, by the spirit which gives life, and not by a sensual eating with
the mouth. Le Sage exclaimed, quite shocked, that this was the opinion
of the heretic Wickliffe, and even La Place 'stopped short in alarm, at
seeing so great a falling off from the religion in which he had been
strictly bred.'[100] Calvin was cut to the heart.

[Sidenote: CALVIN AT THE LIEUTENANT-GENERAL'S.]

But if he lost some friends, he gained others. The chief magistrate of
Poitiers, Lieutenant-general Pierre Regnier de la Planche, desired to
see him, and invited him to dine with De la Dugie, Babinot, Véron,
Vernou, and other acquaintances. Calvin accepted the invitation, which
caused some astonishment. 'This innovator,' said the catholics, 'desires
to court the magistrates, in order that they may give him importance by
their condescension.' Calvin never made any such calculations, but he
was 'burning with great zeal to extend the glory of the Lord on every
side.' He was received with respect, and took his seat at the table;
during dinner the conversation turned, it would seem, on mere
common-places. As soon as the meal was over, the company rose and went
into the garden. It was in this place, known as the _Basses Treilles_,
that the Sieur de la Planche often received his friends. That
magistrate, Calvin, Babinot, and the other guests conversed as they
walked, and the master of the house, turning the conversation on Luther
and Zwingle, blamed the reformers, and especially their opinions on the
mass. 'This was a frequent topic of conversation,' says a writer of the
sixteenth century, 'not only among the learned, but among the common
people, and was even talked of at table.' Calvin, who was well informed
and prepared, entered upon the subject and explained the chief points.
'Luther saw the truth,' he said, 'but he is like those who are walking
through a long and winding road; they perceive afar the dim glimmer of a
lamp, by means of which they can grope their way along the path they
must follow. Zwingle approached the light, but like those who rush too
hastily to good, he went beyond it.'[101] Then wishing them to
understand what there was in the Lord's Supper, he stated more in detail
the idea of the presence of Christ, a real one no doubt, but to be
received by faith and not by the mouth: thus taking a middle position
between Zwingle and Luther. These discourses, being as clear as they
were forcible, convinced the lieutenant-general and the friends he had
assembled. Calvin was requested to commit them to writing, which he did,
adds the historian, with an eloquence that brought him new disciples.
Regnier de la Planche was gained to protestantism, and his son Louis
subsequently took part in the struggles against the Guises. It was he
whom Catherine de Medici perfidiously interrogated one day in her
closet, whilst the Cardinal of Lorraine was hidden behind the tapestry.

[Sidenote: GARDEN OF THE BASSES-TREILLES.]

Henceforth the garden of the Basses-Treilles became a favourite resort
with Calvin: he was accustomed to go there freely and openly. There,
like Socrates in the garden of Academe, the young christian Plato and
his friends sought for truth.[102] The truth which the Reformation was
then restoring to the world, was of quite a different order, and of far
greater power than that of the Greek philosophers. Wherever its voice
was heard, the idea of a clerical priesthood disappeared, the
prerogatives of monastic life vanished, and a personal, individual,
living Christianity took their place. The divine revelations were given
to laymen in their mother-tongue, and the sacraments, stripped of their
pretended magical virtues, exercised a spiritual influence over the
heart. Such were the principles professed by Calvin in the garden of the
lieutenant-general. As he walked up and down beneath the pleasant shade,
he spoke to his friend of the heavenly Father, of his only Son, of
grace, and of eternal life. His disciples, as they listened, imagined
that all things were about to become new, and said to one another that
now at last a barren formalism in the church would give way to a living
power—a breath from heaven. The catholics of Poitiers were distressed.
'As our first parents,' they said, 'were enchanted in a garden, so it
was in the lieutenant-general's garden of the Basses-Treilles that this
handful of men were cajoled and duped by Calvin, who easily made a
breach in the souls of those who listened to him.' This is a remarkable
confession.

One day a meeting was held there at which Calvin and his friends
consulted about what France needed most. The answer was easy: the
Gospel. But France, alas! rejected it. They did not confine themselves
to this topic, and Calvin was anxious to substitute in the church the
spirit for the form, life and reality for ritual observances. He
acquitted himself worthily of his task, and taking up the principal
point explained specially his spiritual doctrine on the Saviour's
presence. 'This,' says the catholic historian, 'was the first Calvinist
council held in France.'[103] The word 'council' is too ambitious, but
it was a meeting that bore fruit. The living faith which inspired the
young doctor gained over a few rebellious spirits. De la Place, who
raised numerous objections at first, but who was a man of common sense
and 'good conscience,' thought that he might possibly be mistaken. 'The
seed fallen into his heart began to grow, and it put forth fruit in the
season God had ordained.'[104]

The agitation which Calvin excited in Poitiers, the admiration of some,
the uneasiness of others, grew stronger every day. The friends of the
Gospel began to run some risk by meeting together. If certain fanatics
should make themselves masters of the populace, the garden of the
Basses-Treilles might be attacked, and the police, under colour of
restoring order, might even go so far as to arrest the stranger. There
were often false alarms. Calvin's friends determined to look for some
solitary place where they might assemble in peace. One of them having
pointed out a _wilderness_ in the adjacent country—a number of deep and
isolated caverns which would shelter them from all investigations,—they
determined to go thither in little bands, and by different roads.

[Sidenote: CALVIN'S GROTTO.]

The next day the project was put in execution. Calvin set out with two
or three others; they traversed the pretty suburb of St. Benedict, took
a picturesque footpath, and after about an hour's walking, arrived at a
wild-looking spot in front of the ruins of a Roman aqueduct. Beneath
them flowed the tranquil waters of the Clain: thickly wooded rocks,
containing caverns of various depths, raised their imposing masses above
the stream. Calvin was charmed with the solitude. Gradually others
arrived, and the assembly was soon complete. Calvin and his friends
entered one of the largest of these caves. They were usually known as
the caves of St. Benedict or the Croutelles, but this one was called,
and has ever since borne the name of Calvin's grotto.[105]

The reformer took his stand on the highest ground; his disciples
gathered round him, some of them leaning against the rock;[106] and in
the midst of a solemn silence he began to teach them, expounding what
was grandest of all—preaching Christ to them. This was a topic to which
he was constantly reverting. 'Better be deprived of everything and
possess Christ,' he said one day. 'If the ship is in danger, the sailors
throw everything overboard, that they may reach the port in safety. Do
likewise. Riches, honours, rank, outward respect—all should be
sacrificed to possess Christ. He is our only blessedness.' Calvin spoke
with much authority;[107] he carried away his readers, and was himself
carried away. On a sudden feeling his spiritual weakness, and the need
they all had of the Holy Ghost, he fell on his knees beneath those
solitary vaults; all the assembly knelt with him, and he raised to the
throne of God a prayer so touching and so earnest, that all who heard
him fancied themselves transported to heaven.[108]

These pilgrimages to St. Benedict's caves were soon observed;
ill-disposed persons might follow the little groups on their way to the
meeting, and surprise the assembly. Calvin's friends resolved to change
their place of meeting frequently, sometimes going to a village, at
others to an isolated country-house.[109] The inhabitants of the
neighbourhood would join the little flock, and the preacher would bring
forward that christian truth which enlightens the world and man. When
they separated, he gave books to every one, 'and even prayers written
with his own hand.'

[Sidenote: CALVIN ON THE MASS.]

Calvin's opposition to the mass gave greater offence every day; the
catholics charged him with the crime of daring to deny that the priest
offered Christ himself in sacrifice, as an expiatory victim for the sins
of the people. He was moved by these observations, but not shaken. One
day when he and his friends were assembled in the cavern, he extolled
the sacrifice of the cross offered _once_, according to Scripture, and
then spoke so forcibly against the mass, that it was not possible, said
earnest catholics, to hear him without shuddering. It is true that
Calvin did not spare this Romish ceremony. He sometimes called it a
'mere monkey-trick and burlesque.' 'I call it a monkey-trick,' he said,
'because they mock the supper of the Lord, just as a monkey imitates
clumsily whatever he sees others do.[110] I call it a burlesque, because
the nonsense and gestures they introduce are better adapted to a
stage-play than to so holy a mystery.'[111] There were in the cave some
who believed sincerely in transubstantiation, and who habitually
attended mass with pious sentiments. Calvin's words—although they may
not have been literally those we have copied—wounded and vexed them, and
Le Sage, abruptly interrupting him, exclaimed: 'Our Lord, very God and
very man, is really and substantially under the appearance of the bread
and the wine.... In all ages, wherever men have known Christ, the
sacrifice of the mass has been offered up.' Surprised at this bold
outbreak, Calvin asked himself if he had committed a crime in setting
the Word of God above the traditions of Rome. He kept silence for a few
moments, and then lifting his hand and putting it on the Bible that lay
open before him, he exclaimed earnestly: 'This is my mass!'[112] Then
uncovering his head and placing his fur cap on the table, he lifted his
eyes to heaven, and said with emotion: 'O Lord, if in the day of
judgment Thou desirest to punish me because I have deserted the mass, I
will say to Thee: O God, Thou hast not commanded me to celebrate it.
Behold Thy Law.... Behold Thy Holy Scripture.[113]... Thou didst give it
us to be our guide, and I can find no other sacrifice in it than that
which was accomplished on the altar of the cross.' The hearers separated
in great excitement, touched with the reformer's faith at once so simple
and so strong, and it was with new convictions that some of them
retraced the solitary paths that conducted them to Poitiers.

From that time many persons manifested a desire to receive the Supper
according to the Lord's institution. The various ceremonies, the
incense, the choral chants satisfied them no longer; they wished to have
a simple and real communion with the Saviour. A day was therefore
appointed, and they assembled in one of the caves of St. Benedict.[114]
The minister read the Word of God, and called upon the Lord to pour out
His Spirit on the little flock. He broke the bread and handed round the
cup; and then invited the worshippers to communicate mutually such
reflections and experiences as might be useful to the faith.[115] These
simple exhortations after the Supper were continued for some time in the
reformed Church.

[89] _Lettres françaises de Calvin_, i. p. 119.

[90] 'Tilius haustis animo Calvini opinionibus.'—Flor. Rémond, _Hist.
Hérés._ ii.

[91] 'Miro desiderio eos videndi incensus, qui catholicæ ecclesiæ bellum
indixerant.'—Ibid.

[92] See M. Cousin's excellent edition.

[93] Varillas, _Hist. des Rév. rel._, ii. p. 473.

[94] 'Riotes et cavillations ... arguments cornus et surprises
subtiles ... comme s'il était un bailleur de sornettes ordinaires ...
au lieu de s'entortiller dans des contestations superflues ... il
mettait en avant ce qui est ferme.'

[95] 'Magnæ existimationis vir, præsertim apud regis matrem.'—Flor.
Rémond, _Hist. Hérés._ ii. p. 251.

[96] Flor. Rémond, _Hist. des Hérésies_ (éd. fr.), p. 890.

[97] P. de Farnace, _Brief Recueil de la Vie de Messire P. de la
Place_, p. 11 sqq. Bayle's _Dict. Hist._ sub voce 'De la Place.'

[98] Calvin, _Lettres Françaises_, i. pp. 70-71.

[99] Calvin on James, iv. 17.

[100] P. de Farnace, _Brief Recueil_, p. 11 sqq.

[101] Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Hérés._ vii. cap. xi. Rémond exaggerates
Calvin's opinion about Luther and Zwingle.

[102] 'Inter sylvas Academi quærere verum.'—Horace.

[103] 'In horto illo primum calvinisticum celebratum fuit concilium in
Gallia.'—Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Hérés._ ii. p. 252.

[104] De Farnace, _Vie de la Place_, p. 11.

[105] La grotte de Calvin. See Crottet, _Chronique protestante_, p.
105; and A. Lièvre, _Hist. du Protestantisme du Poitou_, i. p. 23.

[106] 'In locis secretis frequenter convenerunt.'—Flor. Rémond, _Hist.
Hérés._ ii. p. 253. Rémond declares that he had spared no pains to
trace out all Calvin's career in France. 'In conquirendis variis quæ eo
pertinent documentis, nulli labori peperci.' This has not prevented him
from occasionally seasoning his narrative with abuse and calumny.

[107] Flor. Rémond, ibid. vii. cap. xi.

[108] 'Precem magna vehementia et devotione.'—Ibid. ii. p. 252.

[109] 'Per pagos etiam et villas.'—Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Hérés._ ii.
p. 253.

[110] 'Quod sicut simiæ hominum opera perperam, ita hi sacram cœnam
imitantur.'—Calvini _Opusc. lat._ p. 123.

[111] 'Histrionicam actionem appello quod ineptiæ gestusque histrionici
illic visuntur.'—Calvini _Opusc. lat._ p. 123.

[112] 'Monstrato Bibliorum codice, dixisse: Hæc est missa mea.'—Flor.
Rémond, _Hist. Hérés._ ii. p. 261.

[113] 'Ecce enim hic legem tuam.'—Ibid.

[114] 'In locis illis secretis prima calvinistica cœna celebrata
fuit.'—Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Hérés._ ii. p. 253.

[115] 'Non ipse solum explicabat, sed aliorum sententias
requirebat.—Ibid.




 CHAPTER VI.
 CALVIN AND HIS DISCIPLES BEGIN THE EVANGELISATION OF FRANCE.
 (SPRING 1534.)


It was necessary to begin the conversion of France on a larger scale.
Might not that country, whose agitations have often disturbed Europe,
and which never trembles but all around it is shaken—become, if it
received the Gospel, a centre of light and a powerful means of
strengthening the nations in justice and peace? That would no doubt have
happened, had it become protestant. Calvin, by labouring thirty years
for Geneva and France, laboured for the whole Christian world. He made
the first experiment at Poitiers, and (if we may use the word) began
that glorious evangelising campaign, which he was to direct until the
close of his life.

[Sidenote: CALVIN AND THE ST. GEORGES.]

Not content with evangelising the city, the young and zealous doctor
visited the castles, abbeys, and villages of the neighbourhood. In the
castle of Couhé, a few leagues south of Poitiers, there lived a
patriarchal family of great influence in Upper Poitou: it was that of
Guichard de St. George, baron of Couhé, and Anne de Mortemer his wife.
At their death they left four sons, who had early learned to keep God's
commandments. Ponthus, abbot of a Benedictine convent, was the best
known of the four brothers: 'He is a liberal and munificent man,' people
said, 'a patron of learning and learned men, whom he welcomes
heartily.'[116]

[Sidenote: EVANGELICAL ABBOTS.]

A rumour of the meetings held at Poitiers reached Ponthus; being
intimate with some of Calvin's disciples and occasionally receiving them
at his table, he begged them to bring the young doctor, and from that
day Calvin became one of his guests, according to a tradition preserved
in the province.[117] Although the conversations he had with the abbot
did not convert him, they made him take pleasure in the Gospel, and he
soon asked himself why this astonishing young man should not preach in
the Benedictine church? To address a learned and religious community
pleased the young doctor's mind. The abbot announced to his monks that a
Picard, brought up in the university of Paris and the holder of a
benefice at Noyon, would preach in the abbey-church. Accordingly Calvin
went into the pulpit and declared that whosoever had a firm and lively
faith in the grace of Christ was saved. Some of his hearers were
startled at a doctrine which made the Romish priesthood of no use. 'What
a perverse doctrine!' they said; 'why does the abbot allow this Picard
to preach it in his church?'[118]

On the other hand the Abbot St. George was delighted with the young
man's sermons, but hesitated to take the decisive step. The Benedictine
abbeys were independent, powerful, and rich; the monks generally
belonged to noble families, and surpassed the other religious orders in
intelligence, morality, and extensive familiarity with classical and
christian learning. Ponthus felt a difficulty in leaving the quiet life
he led in his abbey, or in sacrificing his rich benefice, and exposing
himself to the vengeance of the laws.... He entertained the idea of
reconciling the Church with the world, according to the system
patronised by Margaret of Navarre. He would remain an abbot, but he
would be a christian abbot like Roussel, and although wearing his
friar's dress in the pulpit, he would preach the Gospel from it. Ponthus
made the experiment, and his sermons caused a great deal of talk. The
astonished hearers exclaimed: 'Why the abbot of Valence (it was the name
of his monastery) is preaching the rudiments of heresy.'[119] Guichard,
St. George's third brother, abbot _in commendam_ of Bonneveau, erelong
shared the convictions of Ponthus, and professed them like him, but
without giving up his benefice. The murmuring grew louder throughout the
district. 'Look,' said the catholics, 'the men who are caught in
Calvin's web still cling to their cloisters and do not forsake the
altars. The abbots stick to their flesh-pot (_marmite_), and dress
themselves in catholic robes although they are secret Lutherans. They
discharge their functions without showing what they are.'[120]

Ponthus felt ill at ease, his honest soul did not long permit him to
halt on both sides. He sacrificed a brilliant position, dismissed his
monks, set some to study and others to learn trades; and then, feeling
convinced as Luther did, that a forced celibacy is a disorder invented
by men, and that marriage is the order of God, he took a wife. The abbot
of Valence (says an historian) was the first abbot in France who lifted
the mask and showed himself an open Lutheran. His brothers followed the
example he had set them. The Sieur de l'Orillonière, son of the eldest
(the baron of Couhé) was the first of the family to give his blood for
the protestant cause. Thus did the four brothers, full of zeal for the
Reformation, prepare for themselves and for their children a life of
suffering, combat, and exile, but also of faith, hope, and peace.[121]

[Sidenote: THREE MISSIONARIES SENT OUT.]

When Calvin saw this movement of life going on around him, he thought of
France. Would she remain behind Germany and Switzerland?... No. France
will awake ... she is already waking; erelong she will receive the
Gospel in its holy purity, and will increase in morality, in light, and
in liberty: such were his hopes. But for their realisation, men were
needed who, being regenerate themselves, should be fellow-workers with
God in this new creation. Calvin asked himself whether some of the
converts of Poitiers were not called to this work? Alas! what a small
company for so large a kingdom! How great the weakness of the Gospel
compared with the magnificence of Rome! 'God acts thus,' he said, 'in
order to strip us of all pride. And therefore he chooses the weak ones
of this world to confound the strong. If the iron grows red in the
fire,' he added, 'it is that it may be forged.'[122] He wished to forge
it and to make serviceable instruments out of it. One day being at the
usual meeting, he said: 'Is there any one here willing to go and give
light to those whom the pope has blinded?'[123] Jean Vernou, Philip
Véron, and Albert Babinot stood forward. Calvin had not forgotten the
Angoumois where he possessed beloved friends; thither and into the
adjacent provinces he will first send his missionaries and commence the
evangelisation of France: 'You, Babinot, will go into Guyenne and
Languedoc,' he said; 'Philip Véron, you will go into Saintonge and
Angoumois; and you, Jean Vernou, will stay at Poitiers and the
neighbourhood.' Calvin and the other brethren did not think that these
missionaries required regular theological studies; had they not received
the necessary gifts from God, 'neither more nor less than if He had
given them with His own hand?'[124] But they had need to be recommended
to the almighty grace of God. They therefore prayed together, and Calvin
called upon the Lord to accept the services of these pious men. He told
them to go and proclaim the Gospel, not in the name of any man, but in
the name of the Lord, and because God commanded it. A collection
provided for the expenses of this mission, and the evangelists departed.

Babinot having reached the banks of the Garonne and entered Toulouse,
resolved to address in the first place the young noblemen who were
studying there. A learned man (he had lectured at Poitiers on the
_Institutes_ of Justinian), he was firm, upright, zealous in the faith,
and at the same time very gentle, so that he was called _the Goodfellow_
(Bonhomme). Many students were brought to the light by him. He next
began to visit several little flocks in the neighbourhood, and
celebrated the Lord's Supper with them after the manner which the man of
God (as he called Calvin) had taught him.[125] 'He went through the
country, praying secretly here and there in humble conventicles.' A
regent or schoolmaster of Agen, named Sarrasin, having permitted him to
speak in his school, was himself converted to the Gospel, and
immediately began to teach the Word of God, but not so as to attract
observation.

Véron, who was as remarkable for his activity as Babinot for his
gentleness, carried also into every place the news of the truth: he
spent more than twenty years in this occupation.[126] He walked on foot
through Poitou, Anjou, Angoumois, Saintonge, and even Guyenne. 'I
desire,' he said, 'to gather up the stray sheep of the Lord.' Wherever
he went, he invited souls to come to the good shepherd, _who giveth his
life for the sheep_; and those who could distinguish the voice of the
shepherd from that of the wolf, and see the difference between the call
of God and the inventions of men, answered and entered into the fold.
And hence he was called the Gatherer (_ramasseur_). 'Of a truth,' said
Cayer the priest, 'this Gatherer marches out and does not leave a corner
of our province, where he does not go sounding his way, to try and make
some prize.'[127] On arriving in any town or village, he inquired for
the best disposed persons, entered their houses, and sought to instruct
them in the truth. He had taken with him some of Calvin's manuscripts,
and when he desired to strengthen his hearers' souls, he would take them
out of his pocket-book, and show them, saying that they were the
writings of a great man; and then, after reading a few extracts, he
would return them carefully to their place. 'The _gatherer_,' said
fervent Roman-catholics, 'shows these papers as a great curiosity, as if
they were Sibylline verses.'[128]

[Sidenote: THE REFORM AND THE YOUNG.]

These evangelists especially addressed the young. Calvin would not have
religious instruction neglected, or subordinated to secular instruction:
it should have its separate place. He believed that all culture, but
especially religious teaching, ought to begin with early youth; that the
soul then possesses a power of receiving and appropriating what is set
before it, that it never will have again; and that if the seeds of a
religious life are not sown and do not germinate in the heart of the
child, the man will perish wholly. He had said to the three evangelists:
'Let your first attention be always to the professors and
schoolmasters.'[129] The zealous catholics observed this method. 'See!'
they said, 'as youth is easily led astray, they hide the _minister_
under the cloak of the _magister_ (master).'[130] Calvin's friends thus
instilled their doctrines into the schools of Guyenne. Sarrasin
converted another schoolmaster named Vendocin, who became so firm a
Christian, that he preferred to be burnt over a slow fire to abjuring
Calvinism.[131]

The men who devoutly adhered to the formulas of Rome were grieved when
they saw the young so readily receiving the evangelical doctrine. At
Bordeaux and Toulouse, at Angoulême and Aden, in the cloisters, in the
law-courts, and even in the market-places, the loudest complaints were
made. 'These _Mercuries_ (the name they gave to Calvin's missionaries)
are doing much mischief in the schools,' they said. 'As soon as the
captains of the young (i.e. the masters) are conquered, the little
soldiers march under their colours. The _young_ heads of _young_ folks
are more easily disturbed by the heretic _aconite_ than the old. They
rush into danger, without examining it; and they are lost before they
are aware of it. They embrace these new doctrines with such courage that
many, who have only down on their chins, expose themselves to voluntary
death, and thus lose both soul and body.'[132]

[Sidenote: THE REFORMATION AND SCIENCE.]

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.

When Calvin was subsequently settled at Geneva, Babinot, Véron, and
Vernou paid him a visit. They were delighted to find the Christian
professor surrounded with respect, and were never tired of listening to
him from whose lips they had heard at Poitiers the first words of life.
They did not, however, stay with him. Babinot and Véron returned to the
west of France to continue to propagate the Gospel there, which they did
until their death. As for Vernou, he was seized while crossing the
mountains of Savoy, and was burnt alive at Chambery, confessing Jesus
Christ his Saviour.[133] Let us return to Poitiers.

[Sidenote: CALVIN LEAVES POITIERS.]

The prior of Trois-Moutiers, with whom Calvin was staying, was one of
those who, though fond of learning and the Gospel, did not wish to break
with the Church. The conversations at the Basses-Treilles, the
'manducations' in the caves of St. Benedict, the evangelisation of the
city and country ... all made him uneasy. He was alarmed at the thought
that the officers might knock at his door some day, and that the
_heretic_ would be taken in his house. He therefore advised Calvin to
continue his journey. The reformer had ended his task; he was now to
turn his steps elsewhere; he bade his friends farewell. As he left them,
he could say like his Master: _What will I, if the fire be already
kindled?_ Calvin established the date of the Reformation at Poitiers,
when, writing at a later period to the Church which assembled in that
city, he said: 'Do not go astray from the doctrine which you have
received _in part from us_, since it has pleased God to make use of _our
labour_ for your salvation.'[134] Although removed, he still continued
to be the director of that Church. 'I know full well that you are
_spied_ (guêtés) by the enemy,' he wrote to them; 'but let not the fear
of persecution hinder you from seeking the pastures of life.... There is
a middle line between temerity and timidity.... Remain tranquilly
(_coyement_) in your hiding-place; but beware, my brethren, that you do
not shut the door against those who desire to come to the kingdom of
God.'[135]

One thought absorbed him at the time he left Poitiers. It was the month
of April 1534; on the 10th of July he would be twenty-five years old. A
regulation of the Church, confirmed by the Council of Trent, fixed this
as the age at which those who have received the tonsure were promoted to
the priesthood. In early youth he had received the tonsure, that symbol
of sacerdotal royalty, borrowed (St. Jerome tells us) from the pagan
priests of Isis and Serapis;[136] and his age now summoned him to enter
holy orders. He did not want for friends who advised him to remain in
the Church for its reformation; the chapel of Gesine at Noyon, and the
cure of Pont l'Evêque awaited him, and many other doors would open
before him. He was invited to come and put himself in due order. But
Calvin shrank in alarm from the idea of enrolling himself among the
pope's soldiers. 'If I make myself the pope's vassal,' he said, 'how can
I conscientiously fight against the papists?... The sovereign majesty of
God would be offended!... I would sooner give up not only one benefice,
but a hundred, even of the most brilliant.[137] O cursed wealth of the
Church! There is not a single penny of it that is not defiled with
cheating, sacrilege, and robbery!' There was no ecclesiastical dignity
to which a mind so preeminently administrative might not aspire. But
Calvin was convinced that to save the Church it was necessary to
sacrifice Rome. Two paths lay before him: one broad and easy, the other
narrow and difficult: his choice was not doubtful. 'The Gospel,' he
said, 'is more than all the riches, honour, and ease of this world.... I
am ready to give up everything that withdraws me from it.'

Calvin left Poitiers, accompanied by his faithful Du Tillet, who for two
years scarcely ever quitted him. The young canon was one of those honest
but weak natures who have absolute need of a support, and who not
knowing how to find it in the word of God, seek it in strong men. He
therefore attached himself to the young reformer, as the vine to the
elm. Alas! the day was to come, when terrified by persecution, and
unable to make up his mind to break with the Church, he would cling to
the papacy and take that for his support.

[Sidenote: IMPRESSION HE LEFT AT POITIERS.]

A surprising transformation had been effected in Poitiers, and Calvin
left behind him many regrets and tears. 'Oh! would to God that we had
many Calvins!' wrote Charles de Ste. Marthe, one of the professors of
the university. 'I am distressed that you have been taken from us; I
envy the country where you are, and my only consolation is that our
university is now filled with pious and learned men. Pray to God that,
by the Spirit of Christ, we may worthily proclaim the Gospel, in the
midst of our enemies and even in the midst of the flames.'[138]

Calvin passed through Orleans, went on to Paris, and then proceeded to
Noyon, where he arrived at the beginning of May. He immediately informed
his relations and the bishop that he had come to resign his benefices.
We may imagine the astonishment of his friends. What! let slip the
opportunity of doing so much good in the Church! Renounce important
offices to join an obscure sect! It seemed the act of a madman; but
nothing could bend his unshakeable resolution.

On Monday, May 4, 1534, in the presence of the grand vicar of
Monseigneur the bishop and count of Noyon, of his chancellor, and of the
notary of the chapter, Calvin resigned the chapel of Gesine in favour of
Master Anthony de la Marlière, and his cure in favour of another
ecclesiastic of Noyon. It would even appear that he sold his patrimonial
property at the same time.[139]

Having broken the last ties that bound him to the Roman Church, Calvin
began to speak with greater freedom to those around him of the Gospel.

He had found in his father's house two brothers and a sister, Anthony,
Charles, and Mary: these were the first persons he invited to Christ, in
affectionate and pious conversations. He then turned to some members of
the episcopal clergy and other inhabitants of Noyon. He put his hand (to
use his own expression) on those who were running elsewhere, 'to stop
them short.' Anthony and Mary were the first to answer to him. Charles
resisted longer; he received however at that time a seed in his heart
which germinated afterwards.

A canon, named Henry de Collemont, some other clergymen, and a few of
the citizens, appear to have lent an ear to the pious and eloquent words
of their young fellow-citizen. However, he was anxious to return to the
capital, and about the end of May he was in Paris, where fresh struggles
awaited him.

[116] Théodore de Bèze, _Hist. des Eglises ref._ i. p. 63.

[117] Lièvre, _Hist. des Protestants du Poitou_, i. p. 38.

[118] 'Hic Calvino in ecclesiæ navi suæ perversa dogmata prædicare
permisit.'—_Gallia christiana_ in loco. See also Lièvre, p. 38.

[119] Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Hérés._ vii. p. 919.

[120] Ibid.

[121] This family has reckoned, even to our own days, men decided for
the Gospel. The interview of Armand-Louis de St. George, Count of
Marsay, with Voltaire, in his château of Changins, near Geneva, is well
known. Appointed British resident in that city in 1717, he acquired the
rights of citizenship (_France Protestante_, under _Saint
George_). The present head of the family, Count Alexander de St.
George, for many years president of the Evangelical Society of Geneva,
took an active part in the liberation of the Madiai and in other
christian works.

[122] 'Calvinus interim, ferrum sibi in igne esse intelligens.'—Flor.
Rémond, _Hist. Hérés_, ii. p. 253.

[123] 'Ut miseris papistis oculos aperiendi provinciam
susceperint.'—Ibid.

[124] Calvin, _Harmonie évangélique_.

[125] 'Manducationem quæ a viro illo Dei tradita erat celebrabat.'—Flor.
Rémond, _Hist. Hérés._ ii. p. 252.

[126] Ibid. lib. vii. cap. xii.

[127] Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Hérés._ vii. cap. xii.

[128] Ibid. cap. xi.

[129] Ibid.

[130] Ibid.

[131] Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Hérés._ lib. vii. cap. xi.

[132] Ibid. cap. xi.

[133] Crespin, _Martyrol._ A. Lièvre, _Hist. des Protest. du
Poitou_.

[134] Calvin à l'Eglise de Poitiers, _Lettres Françaises_, tom. ii.
p. 12. See also Lièvre, _Hist. des Prot. du Poitou_, tom. i. p. 33.

[135] Calvin aux fidèles de Poitiers, _Lettres Françaises_, i. p.
433.

[136] 'Rasis capitibus sicut sacerdotis Isidis atque Serapidis.'—Hieron.
xiii. _in Ezech._ cap. xliv.

[137] 'Optimis et splendidis sacerdotiis, se protinus abdicat.'—Calvini
_Opusc. lat._ p. 90.

[138] Lettre de Ste Marthe à Calvin, found by Jules Bonnet in the
library at Gotha (MSS. no. 404).

[139] Desmay, _Vie de Calvin hérésiarque_, pp. 48, 49. Levasseur,
_Annales de Noyon_, pp. 1161, 1168. Drelincourt, p. 171. We possess
a deed by which Calvin sells to one of the king's mounted sergeants his
field of the Tuilerie for the sum of 10 livres tournois.




 CHAPTER VII.
 THE EVANGELICAL CHRISTIANS OF PARIS IN 1534.
 (SUMMER 1534.)


[Sidenote: PROGRESS OF THE GOSPEL IN FRANCE.]

Calvin found Paris very different from what he had left it, when he had
quitted it in such great haste eight months before. The times seemed
favourable to the Gospel. The King of England, although remaining
catholic at heart, had resolved to emancipate himself from the dominion
of Rome: this event had created a great sensation throughout Europe, and
men asked whether Francis I. would not imitate 'his good brother.' He
did not seem far from it. At that time he was uniting with the
protestant princes of Germany, he was restoring one of them to his
states, and laying before the French clergy articles of faith drawn up
by the author of the _Confession of Augsburg_. Calvin knew of these
strange acts of the monarch, and it was partly this which had induced
him to return to Paris. Francis I. was not the only person in France who
felt new aspirations. There was in all classes a leaning towards a
reformation. The learned called for liberty of thought, and desired to
see the reign of the monks come to an end. Certain statesmen wished to
deliver France from the enslaving influence of Rome, even while
maintaining its catholicity. William du Bellay, the king's most active
minister, called Bucer the reformer, 'an excellent professor of the best
theology;'[140] and wrote to him: 'Everything bids us be hopeful: the
king's taste for a better learning (that is, for the Holy Scriptures)
increases day by day.'[141] Bucer himself, who was full of hope,
communicated it to his friends: 'The pope's reign is falling very low in
France,' he wrote, 'and many people long for Jesus Christ.'[142] The
clergy became uneasy, and a Franciscan friar complained that 'the heresy
of Luther having entered France, had already covered so much ground, as
almost to call itself her mistress, even in Paris.'[143] Noblemen and
men of letters, citizens, students, and many of the lower classes hailed
the Reformation as the commencement of a new day. 'All who have any
sense,' it was said, 'whatever be their age or sex, when they hear the
truth preached, forsake bigotry.'

Such were the circumstances under which Calvin came to reside in Paris
at the house of his friend La Forge, at the sign of the _Pelican_, in
the Rue St. Martin. The pious tradesman and his wife received him with
the most cordial hospitality, and fearing lest he should again expose a
life so precious to the Church, they conjured him not to trust too much
to what was said about the king's disposition, and to beware of teaching
in public, if he would not risk his life.[144] The flame of persecution
which appeared extinct, might break out again at any moment.

[Sidenote: MARTYRDOM OF POINTET.]

One martyrdom, of which he was told all the particulars, was well
calculated to enforce these rules of prudence. Calvin did not find in
Paris that strong and decided christian, Pointet the surgeon, whom he
had often seen at the meetings.[145] The monks, whom this bold man had
reprimanded so soundly for their immoralities, had raised a clamour
against him; Leclerc, the priest of St. André-des-Arts, had prosecuted
him; he had been imprisoned in the Conciergerie and condemned to be
burnt after being strangled. This was paying very dearly for the lessons
of morality he had given the friars. Before the hour of execution, the
gaoler had taken him into the prison chapel, and left him there with a
monk before an image. The confessor began to exhort him: 'Kneel down
before that image and ask pardon for your sins.' Seeing that his
penitent remained motionless, he seized him by the neck to force him
upon his knees. But Pointet, who was naturally of a 'violent temper,'
thrust the monk back roughly, saying: 'Satan, begone, and do not tempt
me to turn idolater.' The confused and exasperated confessor ran hastily
out of the chapel, and going to the criminal chamber told the president
and his two assessors what had passed, and begged them to come and bring
the man to reason. 'He is a madman, he is out of his senses,' exclaimed
the magistrates, as they accompanied the confessor. These three
individuals, who had just condemned Pointet to be strangled, having
repeated the invitation which the monk had given him, the prisoner, who
was annoyed by this persecution, treated them as he had treated the
monk; he called them 'bloodthirsty wretches, murderers, robbers, who
unjustly and against all reason put to death the children of God!' The
three judges, excited and terrified in their turn, hurried back to the
court, and there, heated by passion, they increased the severity of the
sentence, adding that Pointet should have his tongue cut out before
anything else was done to him. Had not that tongue called them
murderers? It was hoped that he would now show himself more tractable,
but they were mistaken. The steadfast christian could not speak, but he
refused to make the least sign of recantation, and to bend his head
before an image. The enemies of truth (as the chronicle styles them)
seeing this, had recourse to a fresh aggravation of the sentence: they
condemned him to be burnt alive, 'which was done as cruelly as they
could devise.' This death produced a deep impression on the minds of the
evangelical christians of Paris.[146]

Calvin, yielding to the representations of his friends, resolved to
substitute 'private admonitions' for preaching at the assemblies, and
began by visiting the humble christians whom he had heard spoken of at
La Forge's.

[Sidenote: THE PARALYTIC.]

In the street which lay between the two gates of the law courts, there
was a shoemaker's shop. On entering it, no one was seen but a poor
hunchback, crippled in all his limbs, except the tongue and the arms.
This paralytic creature was the shoemaker's son, and by name
Bartholomew. 'Alas!' said his father, Robert Milon, to those who
expressed their compassion at the sight, 'he was not always so; he was
quite another person in his youth, endowed with excellent gifts both of
body and mind.'[147] In fact, Bartholomew was once the handsomest man of
the parish, very clever, and full of liveliness and imagination. He had
abused these gifts; he had followed his impassioned disposition, and had
launched into life, indulging in all the lusts of youth, in foolish
amours and other kinds of irregularities with which young folks
willingly defile themselves. Continually carried away by his impetuous
temper, he equally courted pleasures and quarrels, he rushed into the
midst of the strife as soon as any discussion arose, and displayed
unparalleled temerity in all his disputes. He got up balls and concerts,
despised the things of God, turned the priests into ridicule, and
laughed at pious men. Everybody in the quarter talked about Berthelot
(as he was called) and of his exploits; some with admiration, others
with fear. All the young men looked up to him as their leader.

[Sidenote: MILON'S CONVERSION]

One day, while giddily indulging in his ordinary diversions, he met with
a fall and broke his ribs. As he would not apply any remedy, the
mischief grew worse; the various parts of his body 'died little by
little,' and he was entirely paralysed. What a change in his life! Poor
Bartholomew, who had been so proud of his beauty, now weak, brokendown,
deprived of the use of his limbs, unable any more to associate with his
friends, was obliged to keep in his father's shop all day long. He was
deeply distressed, not only by the severe pains he suffered, but more by
the sight of his deformity. Sitting near the window, he had no other
amusement than to watch the passers-by, and his temper being still the
same, or rather soured by his misfortunes, he was not sparing of his
sarcasms. One day, seeing one of the evangelicals passing before the
shop, he began to insult him, and 'to scoff at the terrible majesty of
God.'—'Holloa! Lutheran!' he called out, adding all sorts of taunts. The
christian stopped; he was touched when he saw the pitiful condition of
the wretched individual who insulted him, and going up to him, said
affectionately: 'Poor man, why do you mock at the passers-by? Do you not
see that God has _bent your body in this way in order to straighten your
soul_?'[148] These simple words struck Milon: he had never thought that
his _soul_ was _bent_ as well as his body. 'Can it be true,' he asked,
'that God has made these misfortunes fall upon me, in order to reform
his misguided creature?' He lent an ear to the Lutheran, who spoke with
him, and gave him a New Testament, saying: 'Look at this book, and a few
days hence you will tell me what you think of it.' Milon took the
Gospel, opened it, and having begun, says the chronicler, 'to taste the
fruit of this reading, he continued at it night and day.' This little
volume was enough for him: he had no need of any teacher. The sword of
the Word of God pierced to the bottom of his heart, and his past life
terrified him. But the gospel consoled him: 'It was to him like a loud
trumpet sounding the praise of the grace of Christ.' Milon found the
Saviour: 'Mercy has been shown me,' he said, 'in order that the love of
God which pardons the greatest sinners, should be placed as on a hill,
and be seen by all the world.' He had now a curb that restrained him,
and prevented him from 'indulging in abuse, quarrels, bickerings,
squabbles and contentions.' The wolf had become a lamb. Bartholomew
imparted the riches he had found in the book of God to his father, to
the other members of his family, and to all the customers who visited
the shoemaker's shop. There was not a room in Paris that offered a
spectacle at once so interesting and so varied.

Bartholomew's christian charity became as inexhaustible as his worldly
skill had once been fertile in inventing amusements. He devoted entirely
to God the restless activity which he had lavished on the world. At
certain hours of the day, the poor young man, 'unequalled in the art of
writing,' would collect the children of the neighbourhood round his bed
and dictate to them a few words of the Bible, teaching them how to form
their letters properly. At other times he thought of the necessities of
the poor, and laboured diligently with his own hands: 'etching with
aquafortis on knives, daggers, and sword-blades,' he executed many
unusual things for the goldsmiths. He spent the proceeds of his labour
in supporting several needy persons who possessed a knowledge of the
Gospel. He had also a fine voice, and played on several instruments
'with singular grace;' accordingly, every morning and evening he
consecrated to the praise of the Lord those gifts which he had formerly
dedicated to pleasure, accompanying himself as he sang psalms and
spiritual songs. People came from all quarters to this shop, which was
situated in the centre of Paris: some came 'by reason of the excellent
and rare things he did;' others 'visited him to hear his singing.' A
large number were attracted by the great and sudden change that had
taken place in him. 'If God has bestowed these gifts on me,' said the
poor paralytic, 'it is to the end that His glory should be magnified in
me.' He meekly taught the humble to receive the Gospel, and if any
hypocrites presented themselves, 'he took them aside, and launched on
them the thunderbolts of God.' 'In short,' adds the chronicler, 'his
room was a true school of piety, day and night, re-echoing with the
glory of the Lord.'

[Sidenote: DU BOURG AND VALETON.]

At some distance from this spot, but near De la Forge's, at the entrance
of the Rue St. Denis, at the corner of the boulevard, was a large
draper's shop, the _Black Horse_, belonging to John du Bourg. This
tradesman was a man of independent character, who liked to see, to
understand, and to judge for himself: he had never frequented the
schools or even had much conversation with the evangelicals, but for all
that, says the chronicle, he had not been denied the wisdom from heaven.
By means of the Holy Scriptures, which he read constantly, and in which
he humbly sought the truth, he had received from God the knowledge of
those 'glad tidings which (as it was said) the wise cannot obtain by
their own wisdom.' Forthwith he had begun to spread it around him with
an unwearying activity, which astonished his neighbours. 'That ardour,
which makes a great show at the beginning,' said some of his relatives,
'will soon end in smoke, like a fire of tow as the proverb says.' They
were mistaken; the Word had sunk into his heart, and taken such deep
root there, that it could not be plucked out. The priests had intrigued,
kinsfolk had clamoured, and customers had deserted him, but 'neither
money nor kindred could ever turn him aside from the truth.'[149]

While his old friends were growing distant, new ones were drawing near
him. A receiver of Nantes, Peter Valeton by name, was often seen
entering his shop. Like Du Bourg, he was 'a man of sense and credit,'
but while the tradesman had been instructed in solitude by the Holy
Ghost, the receiver had come to a knowledge of the Gospel 'by means of
some good people with whom he associated,'[150] and then the study of
the New Testament had confirmed his faith. He did not stop here. Being
in easy circumstances, and fond of books, he bought all the writings of
the reformers he could procure. If there was one in any bookseller's
back shop, he would catch it up, pay for it instantly, hide it under his
cloak, for fear the volume should be seen, and hurry home with it. On
reaching his room, he would place it at the bottom of a large chest or
trunk, the key of which he always carried with him. Then as soon as he
had a spare moment, he would close his door, reopen the chest, take out
the precious book, and read it eagerly. He listened if any person was
coming, for though he was a faithful soul, he was still weak in the
faith, and was afraid of the stake.

All these pious men joyfully welcomed those who showed any love for the
Gospel. There was sometimes present at their meetings a Picard
gentleman, by name John le Comte, belonging to the household of the
Amirale de Bonnivet, widow of the celebrated favourite of Francis I. He
was born at Etaples in 1500, had attached himself to Lefèvre, his
fellow-townsman, followed him into Briçonnet's service, and only left
him to enter Madame de Bonnivet's family, as tutor to her three sons.
Constantly attending the meetings of the little Church, he often spoke
at them, and every one appreciated his knowledge of Scripture (he could
read them in Hebrew), his sound theology, and his talent in expounding
the truth. We shall meet with him again in Switzerland.

[Sidenote: GIULIO CAMILLO.]

Another rather singular person attracted the attention of the assembly
by his dark complexion, his gloomy look, and mysterious air. He was a
celebrated Italian, Giulio Camillo of Forli (in the States of the
Church), philosopher, orator, poet, astrologer, philologist, and
mythologist, of great skill in the cabalistic science,[151] who
pretended to hold intercourse with the elementary beings, and had
laboured forty years in constructing a machine in the form of a theatre,
full of little niches, in which he lodged all our faculties and many
other things besides, and by means of which he pretended to teach all
the sciences. Francis I. having invited him to Paris, Camillo exhibited
to him, and explained, his wonderful machine, at which the king was
delighted, and gave him 500 ducats. Although taciturn and dreamy, he
courted the society of pious men. Paleario speaks of him in his
letters,[152] and he became intimate in Paris with Sturm, who willingly
received into his house the learned of all countries. The latter was
charmed to see a scholar, invited from Italy by the king, and of whom
all the world was talking, inclining towards the Gospel; and one day,
writing to Bucer, he said: 'Camillo professes not only profound science
but admirable piety also.... God often does something by means of men of
this sort; who, when their will is equal to their means, become great
patterns.'[153] Camillo knocked at the door and came in while Sturm was
writing. Sturm showed him the letter, and the Italian wrote at the foot:
'Would to God that my mind were in my hands, or that it could flow from
my pen!... If you could see it you would certainly recognise it as your
own.'[154] It would appear that Camillo was deceived. He was a man of
original mind, desirous of learning everything new, including the
Reformation; but there was some quackery in him. If his famous machine
did nothing for the progress of science, it advanced his fortunes, which
was a compensation in his eyes. Calvin was less pleased with him than
Sturm; the eagle eye of the reformer was not deceived. The Italian's
gloomy air seemed to hide some unbelief or heresy. 'If spiritual joy
reign not in our hearts,' he said, 'the kingdom of God is not in
us.'[155]

Many other well-known persons visited the friends of the Gospel in
Paris; among them were Des Fosset, afterwards lieutenant-general of
Berry, Jacques Canaye, subsequently a famous advocate before the
parliament, besides other lawyers, noblemen, royal servants, tradesmen,
and professors. Persecution made them known, and we shall have to name
many of them among the exiles and martyrs.[156]

Besides these adult laymen, a number of scholars or students was
observed at the evangelical meetings. Among them was a boy of Melun,
Jacques Amyot by name, 'of very low origin,' says Beza, picked up in the
streets of Paris by a lady, who, wishing to turn him to account, made
him attend her sons to college and carry their books. Amyot, who was to
be one of the most celebrated writers of the age, soon showed a
wonderful aptitude for Greek literature; he had even learnt to know
something of the Gospel. He was to change hereafter, to take orders, to
forget what he had learnt, and even to become 'a very wretched
persecutor;'[157] but at this time he was considered to be a friend of
the new doctrine.

It was the common people, however, that were most numerous at these
conventicles. One of them, Henry Poille, a poor bricklayer from a
village near Meaux, told a friend one day 'that he had come to a
knowledge of the truth in the school of Meaux, thanks to Bishop
Briçonnet. Alas!' he added, 'the bishop has been overcome since then by
the enemies of the cross.'

Even the most necessitous persons were active in good works. A poor
woman named Catelle had turned school-mistress out of love for children.
'It would be too cruel a thing,' she said, 'to exclude those of tender
age from God's grace!'

But of all these evangelical christians of Paris no one had more zeal
than De la Forge. 'He never spared his goods for the poor,' says the
chronicler.[158] He had the Bible printed at his own expense, and along
with the alms which he distributed he would always add a kind word, and
often a Gospel or some other pious book.

[Sidenote: A CHARACTERISTIC OF CALVIN.]

Calvin was not however equally pleased with everything in Paris. He
willingly recognised the beauty of the city, but was terrified at seeing
fearful abysses and (as he called them) 'the depths of hell' side by
side with its magnificent palaces. He felt 'extreme sadness' at the
sight. An immense movement was then being accomplished all over the
world. As the sun of spring brings up the seed sown in the earth—the
tares as well as the good seed—the sun of liberty that was beginning to
shine quickened not only the germs of truth, but sometimes also those of
error. Calvin's soul was deeply grieved at this; but he did not stand
still. He had received from God the call to oppose all false doctrines,
and was preparing to do so. This is one of the main features of his
character. To the very last he combated the pride of those who wish to
know everything; the rage for subtleties, mystical pretensions,
immorality, unitarian doctrines, the deism which denies the
supernatural, and the pantheistic and atheistic theories. In Paris he
met with all these aberrations. His principal means of combating error
was to put forward the truth; yet he thought it useful sometimes to have
conversations and even conferences with his adversaries, of which we
shall see some examples.

[140] 'Melioris theologiæ professor eximius.'—Strasburg MS. (June 20,
1534).

[141] 'Etiam rex ipse, cujus animus erga meliores litteras in dies magis
ac magis augetur.'—Ibid.

[142] 'Pulchre inclinabat regnum Papæ in Gallia. Ad Christum multi
adspirabant.'—Ibid.

[143] 'S'y était fait place déjà fort large, jusqu'à presque se dire
maitresse, mêmement de Paris.'—Fontaine, _Hist. cath. de notre
Temps_, (Paris) p. 188.

[144] 'Magnum vitæ periculum.'—Beza, _Vita Calvini_.

[145] See Vol. II. of this History, bk. ii. chap. xxxii.

[146] Crespin, _Martyrol._ fol. 107 verso.

[147] Crespin, _Martyrol._ fol. 112 verso.

[148] Crespin, _Martyrol._ fol. 113.

[149] Crespin, _Martyrol._ fol. 113 verso.

[150] Ibid. p. 113.

[151] Tiraboschi, _Lettere italiane_, vii. p. 315.

[152] Palearii _Op._ lib. i. ep. xvii.

[153] 'Per ejuscemodi homines, sæpe Deus aliquid facit, qui quum quantum
possunt tantum velint, magno solent esse exemplo.'—Strasburg MS.
Schmidt, _G. Roussel_, p. 220.

[154] 'Utinam animus esset nunc in manibus atque in calamo.'—Ibid.

[155] Calvin, _in_ _I. Epist. ad Thessal._

[156] See below, chap. xi.

[157] Th. de Bèze, _Dict. Eccles._ p. 11. _France protestante_, art.
_Amyot_.

[158] Crespin, _Martyrol._ fol. 113.




 CHAPTER VIII.
 CALVIN'S FIRST RELATIONS WITH THE LIBERTINES AND SERVETUS.
 (SUMMER 1534.)


De La Forge willingly received all pious strangers visiting Paris. One
day Calvin saw at his friend's table certain individuals who, he
fancied, had something singular about them. His eyes were fixed on them
and he tried to make them out. One of them, named Coppin, from Lille, a
man of the people and of no education, but with boldness greater than
his ignorance, raised his voice, affected a sententious style, and spoke
like an oracle. 'Verily,' said Calvin, 'a fool never has any doubts.' A
little farther on sat Quintin from Hainault, who seemed to have more
education, and certainly more cunning. He assumed airs of superiority,
an imposing tone of voice, and expressing himself ambiguously, gave
himself the air of a prophet. 'The latter seems to me a big rogue,' said
Calvin of him.[159] Quintin was usually accompanied by a few disciples,
ignorant and fanatical persons who repeated all he said; they were
Bertrand des Moulins, Claude Perceval, and others. These bold and
adventurous sectarians having nothing and never working, looked out
wherever they went for some good-natured person who would keep them in
their idleness by supplying them with victuals and drink. They crept
into the house by meek enticing ways, making no display at first of
their particular doctrines, reserving these for the initiated only. They
strove to win over all who listened to them, and to that end spoke
continually of the Holy Ghost, and tried to make men believe that they
were His apostles. Simple souls allowed themselves to be caught. They
would have believed they had committed the unpardonable sin, if they had
not looked upon these people as saints.

[Sidenote: THE SPIRITUALS OR LIBERTINES.]

One day when there was a large party at De la Forge's, Quintin began to
publish his doctrines. Whatever was the subject of conversation, the
_spirit_ immediately appeared. Calvin lost all patience: 'You are like
those country priests,' he said, 'who, having but one image in their
church, make it serve for five or six saints. He is either St. James, or
St. Francis, or St. Basil, and the priest receives as many offerings as
there are saints.'[160] Sometimes, however, these 'spirituals,' as they
were called, betrayed themselves, and let their fanatical opinions slip
out. 'There are not many spirits,' said Quintin, 'there is only one
spirit of God, who is and lives in all creatures. It is this sole spirit
which does everything;[161] man has no will, no more than if he were a
stone.'[162]

Such language surprised Calvin. He examined the strange prophets, and
discovered several capital errors in them. 'The Holy Spirit is our
reason,' said some, 'and that Spirit teaches us that there is neither
condemnation nor hell.'—'The soul,' said others, 'is material and
mortal.'—'God is everything,' said Quintin, 'and everything is God.'
Immoral doctrines were combined with this system. Calvin's conscience
was terrified: he had risen up for the purpose of destroying a
worm-eaten framework that men had built round the temple of God, and now
rash hands were presuming to destroy the temple itself. He wished to
destroy the superstitious traditions of so many ages, only to set the
Divine truths of the apostolic times in their place; and all of a sudden
he found himself face to face with men who desired no other God but
nature, and would change the world into a vast wilderness. Calvin did
not separate from Rome in order to be less christian, but to be more so.
He resolved, therefore, to attack those who under the cloak of
Protestantism suppress the mysteries of faith; to combat with the same
severity both pope and sectarians, and if he undertook to destroy the
fables of men, he would try still more to preserve the revelations of
God. Had not Luther cried out when speaking of these would-be
spirituals: 'It is the devil who seeks to turn you aside from the
truth.... Turn your backs upon the drivellers!'[163] Various
circumstances which were then taking place under Calvin's eyes, made him
understand more clearly the necessity of opposing these threatening
doctrines with the utmost energy.

[Sidenote: A MURDER AND A THEFT.]

One day a man had been murdered in the streets of Paris; a great crowd
had gathered round his body, and a pious Christian exclaimed: 'Alas! who
has committed this crime?' Quintin, who was there also, made answer
immediately, in his Picard _patois_: 'Since you want to know, it was
_me_!' The other said to him with surprise: 'What! could you be such a
coward?' 'It was not me, it was God.' 'What!' exclaimed the man, 'you
impute to God a crime which He punishes?' Then the wretched man,
'discharging his poison more copiously,' continued: 'Yes, it's thee,
it's me, it's God; for what thee or me does, it is God who does it; and
what God does, we do.'[164] Another analogous circumstance occurred in
the house of Calvin's friend. De la Forge had a servant to whom he paid
high wages; this man robbed his master, and ran away with the money. A
shoemaker of the neighbourhood, who held Quintin's opinions, having gone
to the shop the same day, found the tradesman very uneasy: 'The man who
has committed such a base action,' he said, 'might easily take advantage
of my credit, and borrow in my name.' Whereupon, as Calvin relates, the
shoemaker immediately began to flap his wings, and was up into the
clouds, exclaiming: 'It is blaspheming God to call this action base; ...
seeing that God does everything, we ought to reckon nothing bad.' Some
days later, this philosopher was himself robbed by a servant.
Immediately forgetting all his spiritual knowledge, he rushed out of the
house 'like a madman,' to search after the thief, and on reaching De la
Forge's, was lavish of his abuse against the culprit. De la Forge
ironically repeated to him his own words: 'But you accuse God,' he said,
'since it is He who did it.' The shoemaker sneaked of abashed, 'like a
dog with his tail between his legs.'[165]

[Sidenote: FALSE LIBERTY OF THE SPIRITUALS.]

Calvin began the contest. It was not with philosophy, or speculation, or
apologetics, that he fought these pretended spiritualists. 'God,' said
he, 'enlightens us sufficiently in Scripture; it is our want of knowing
them thoroughly that is the cause and source of all errors.'[166] He
attacked Quintin and pressed him hard. He quoted the commandments of God
against theft and murder: 'You call God impure,' he said, 'a thief and a
robber,[167] and you add that there is no harm in it.[168] Who, I pray,
has condemned impurity, theft, murder, if God has not?'... Quintin, who
was generally very liberal with passages from Scripture, answered with a
smile: 'We are not subject to the letter which killeth, but to the
Spirit which giveth life.... The Bible contains allegories, myths which
the Holy Spirit explains to us.'[169] 'You make your Scripture a nose of
wax,' said Calvin, 'and play with it, as if it were a ball.'[170]—'You
find fault with my language because you do not understand it,' said
Quintin.—'I understand it a little better than you do yourself,'
retorted Calvin; 'and I see pretty plainly that you desire to mislead
(_embabouiner_) the world by absurd and dangerous trifling.'

The 'spirituals' were by turns protestant or catholic as suited them.
Their manner of seeing accorded very well with their pantheism, and they
would have been quite as much at their ease among the Hindoos and the
Turks. This broadness, which misled the moderate party, offended Calvin.
One day, when Quintin said with unction: 'I am just come from a solemn
mass, celebrated by a cardinal.... I have seen the glory of
God,'[171]—'I understand you,' said Calvin, rather coarsely; 'in your
opinion, a canon ought to continue in his luxury, and a monk in his
convent, like a pig in a sty.'[172]

The pantheists made proselytes. 'By dint of intrigue and flattery, they
attracted the simple ignorant poor, whom they made as lazy as
themselves.' They tried to make way with the learned and the great, and
even to creep into the hearts of princes. Their high pretensions to
spirituality staggered weak minds, and the convenient principle by which
every man ought to remain in the Church to which he belonged, even were
it sunk in error, made timid and irresolute characters lean to their
side. A priest, who had become Quintin's head champion, succeeded in
deceiving the excellent Bucer by means of the false appearance he put
on; and ten years later, an elect soul, Margaret, was dazzled and
deceived by their hypocritical spirituality. About 4,000 were led astray
in France.

Calvin was not one of those individuals 'who remain in doubt and
suspense;' from the very first he detected pantheism and materialism
under the veils with which these men sought from time to time to conceal
their errors, and boldly pointed them out. His uprightness and frankness
presented a very striking contrast to their dissimulation and cunning.
'They turn their cloak inside out at every moment,' he said, 'so that
you do not know where to hold them. One of the principal articles of
their creed is that men ought to counterfeit, whilst even the heathens
have said "that it is better to be a lion than a fox."'[173]

He found that their doctrines were impious and revolutionary. To
confound God with the world was (he thought) to take from the world the
living personal God who is present in the midst of us; and consequently
to expose not only the Reformation and Christianity but the whole social
system to utter ruin. The conduct of these pretended 'spirituals' was
already sufficient in his eyes to characterise and condemn their system.
'What has metamorphosed Quintin and his companions from tailors into
teachers,' said Calvin, 'is that, preferring to be well fed and at their
ease to working, they find it convenient to gain their living by
prating, as priests and monks do by chanting.'[174]

It was not until later that Calvin wrote his excellent treatise against
the libertines;[175] but, says Theodore Beza, 'it was then (during his
stay in Paris) that he first encountered those teachers who revived in
our times the detestable sect of the Carpocratians, abolishing all
difference between good and evil.'[176] He encountered a probably still
more dangerous doctrine.

[Sidenote: SERVETUS.]

About that time a stranger, whose proceedings were rather mysterious,
used to appear at rare intervals in the little circles of Paris. Many
persons spoke highly of him. They said, he could not be reproached with
any immoral tendencies, while his subtle understanding, his brilliant
genius, his profound knowledge of natural science, and his fiery
imagination, seemed as if they would make him one of the most surprising
and influential leaders of the epoch. This was Michael Servetus, a man
of the same age as Calvin. Born at Villenueva in Arragon, he had studied
the law at Toulouse, and afterwards published a daring work entitled,
_On the Errors of the Trinity_. He put himself forward as a teacher of
truth and a thorough reformer. The great mysteries of faith were to give
way to a certain pantheism, enveloped in mystical and Sabellian forms.
It was not Roman-catholicism alone which he desired to reform, but the
evangelical reformation also, substituting for its scriptural and
practical character a philosophic and rationalistic tendency.

In order to accomplish this transformation of protestantism, Servetus
began by associating with the reformers of German Switzerland and of
Germany. Œcolampadius, having examined him, declared that he could not
count him a christian unless he acknowledged the Son as partaking
through all eternity of the real Godhead of the Father. Melanchthon was
alarmed at hearing his doctrines: 'His imagination is confused,' he
said; 'his ideas are obscure. He possesses many marks of a fanatical
spirit.[177] He raves on the subjects of Justification and the
Trinity.... O God! what tragedies this question will occasion among our
posterity!'[178]

We may easily understand the painful impression Servetus made on these
two men, the most tolerant of the sixteenth century. He was, as we have
said, a mystic rationalist; but rationalism and protestantism, which
many persons confound together, are two opposite poles. Nothing excited
the indignation of the reformers more than this pride of human reason
which pretends unaided to explain God, and to accomplish without his
help the moral renovation of man. The Spanish doctor, finding himself
thus rejected by the German divines, quitted those parts sore vexed and
exclaiming: 'May the Lord confound all the tyrants of the Church!
Amen.'[179] He went to Paris under the name of Michael de Villeneuve.

Servetus had an object in going to France. If he succeeded in planting
his standard in that mighty country, near that university which had been
for so many ages the queen of intelligence, his triumph (he thought)
would be secure. He willingly left Germany to the Germans. That French
nation which has the prerogative of universality, which succeeds in
everything, which is so intelligent, so frank, so communicative, so
practical and so active—he will select to be the organ of the second
Reformation. Servetus thought the French reformers more daring than
those of Saxony. He had heard of a young doctor of great ability, who
desired to carry the reform farther than Luther, and he thought he had
found his man. But he was mistaken; that man was far above his empty
theories.

[Sidenote: CALVIN AND SERVETUS ON THE TRINITY.]

Calvin could not and would not have any other God than Him who gives us
life, who has ransomed us, and who sanctifies us—the Father, God above
us; the Son, God for us; the Holy Ghost, God in us. This threefold
relation with God, which Scripture revealed to him and which entirely
satisfied his inward longings, forced him to recognise a _difference_ in
God; but on the other hand, _unity_ being essential to the Deity, he was
bound to maintain it at any cost, and he thus felt himself constrained
to embrace the idea of a divine Trinity. Against this doctrine Servetus
levelled his bitterest sarcasms. The Spaniard rejected what he
denominated an 'imaginary Trinity;' he called those who believed in it
'tritheists,' or even atheists, and abused them in coarse language.
'Jesus is man,' he said; 'the Godhead was communicated to Him by grace,
but He is not God by nature. The Father alone is God in that
sense.'[180] He invited Calvin to a conference; puffed up and charmed
with his own system, he fancied himself certain to convince the
reformer, and flattered himself with the hope of making him his
fellow-labourer.

The task was not an easy one. The object of the Reformation was to raise
a spiritual temple, wherein troubled souls might find a refuge; and
Calvin saw rash hands presuming to make it a receptacle for every error,
and, in his own energetic language, 'a den for murdering souls.' He
stood forth, therefore, to maintain the apostolic doctrine, and
contended that Christ, who called himself the _only_ Son of God, was a
_son_, not like believers, in consequence of adoption; not like the
angels, because of their communion with the Lord; but in the proper
sense: and that if the son of a man has the nature of a man like his
father, Jesus, the only Son of God, has in like manner the nature of
God.

It was a question that seriously occupied many minds at this period.
Servetus did not stand alone; other doctors, as Hetzer, Denck, Campanus,
and Joris, had professed analogous errors. One universal cry was heard
among the reformers when they saw Christ's divinity attacked.
Luther had declared that 'this little spark would cause a great
conflagration;'[181] Zwingle had demanded that 'this false, wicked, and
pernicious doctrine' should be opposed by every means;[182] and even the
moderate Bucer, forgetting his christian gentleness, had gone so far as
to declare from the pulpit that 'a man like Servetus deserved to have
his bowels plucked out and his body torn to pieces.'[183] Calvin
resolved to accept Servetus's invitation. These two young men, born in
the same year, gifted each of them with marvellous genius, unshakeable
in their convictions, are about to enter the lists. What blows they will
deal each other! What a struggle! Which will come off conqueror? If
Luther, Zwingle, and Bucer are so animated, what will Calvin be? He was
the one who showed the most moderate sentiments with regard to Servetus.
Alas! why did he not continue so to the last? 'I will do all in my power
to cure Servetus,' he said.[184] 'If I show myself in public, I know
that I expose my life; but I will spare no pains to bring him to such
sentiments, that _all pious men may be able to take him affectionately
by the hand_.'[185] Justice requires that we should take account of
these feelings of Calvin with regard to Servetus.

[Sidenote: A DISCUSSION APPOINTED.]

The discussion was therefore resolved upon, and a certain number of
friends were invited to be present. The time and place were settled, and
when the day arrived, Calvin quitted De la Forge's house, and,
proceeding down the Rue St. Martin to the Rue St. Antoine, found himself
at the appointed hour at a house in this latter street, which had been
selected for the colloquy. Servetus had not come, and Calvin waited for
him; still the Spaniard did not appear, and the Frenchman was patient.
What was the cause of his delay? Had Lieutenant-criminal Morin obtained
information of the meeting, and was he preparing to catch the two young
leaders by one cast of his net? After waiting for some time to no
purpose, Calvin withdrew.[186] Servetus, who lived as a catholic in the
midst of catholics, and made no scruple of taking part in the worship of
the Roman church, probably feared that a public discussion with Calvin
would make him known, and expose him to serious danger.[187]

Servetus's challenge was not however without consequences. He had called
Calvin into the lists, he had made him the champion of the doctrine of
the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; the opportunity of answering this
challenge occurred twenty years later at Geneva. If the struggle had
then been confined to a learned discussion between these two great
minds, it would have been right enough; Servetus himself had challenged
it. But the ideas of the times, from which Calvin (even while seeking a
relaxation in the form) could not free himself, led to one of those
distressing calamities, so frequent during a long series of ages in the
annals of Rome, but of which, God be thanked! there is only this one
instance in those of the Reformation.

Calvin did not fight only with the tongue: he was then hurrying on the
printing of his first theological work. It was the book written against
those who said 'that the soul was only the motion of the lungs, and that
if it had been endowed with immortality at the creation, it had been
deprived of it by the fall.'[188] 'Let us put down those people,' he
said, 'who murder souls without appearing to inflict any wounds:' and
with this view he had composed a work on the _Immortality of the Soul_,
the title given it in a letter he wrote to Fabri.[189] It is to be
regretted that he afterwards substituted the rather awkward one of
_Psychopannychia_, 'the night or sleep of the soul;' as the first
indicates the subject more clearly. At the same time also he combated
the opinion of those 'good men,' as he calls them,[190] who believed
that the soul slept until the judgment-day. The first edition of this
work, which bears the date of Paris 1534, came out probably immediately
after Calvin had left that city or shortly before his departure.

[Sidenote: CHARACTER OF CALVIN'S DIVINITY.]

This work gave him a place apart in the ranks of the reformers. In this
his earliest theological treatise he displayed the character that
distinguished him, and which those who surrounded him had already been
able to recognise in his conversations. His theology would not be
negative, but on the contrary exceedingly positive. His first work does
not combat the errors of Rome. He stands forth as the defender of the
soul, the advocate of christian spiritualism. He will be, as a great
historian has said, 'the man called to build the Lord's citadel, of
which Luther had laid the foundation.'[191] The force of conviction, the
weight of proof, the power with which he employed the Scriptures, the
simplicity and clearness of style, struck every reader. We shall not
speak here of Calvin as a writer: we have done so elsewhere.[192] There
might, however, be discerned in this work a defect of which Calvin never
entirely cured himself: it contained energetic disdain and bitter
invective. He saw this himself; he did more, he moderated these
expressions in a second edition. 'I said certain things in it,' he
wrote, referring to the first, 'with a bitterness and severity which may
have offended certain delicate ears.[193] I have therefore struck out
some passages, added others, and changed many.' This did not prevent his
falling into the same fault again, which, it must be acknowledged, was
that of the age.

In spite of his frequent discussions, Calvin was happy in the house of
De la Forge. Accustomed to a frugal life, he was little affected by the
abundance of all sorts of good things by which he was surrounded; but
the piety of the family delighted him much. He loved to see the master
distributing the Gospel, relieving the poor, and listening to the
interpretation of God's word, and took pleasure in his christian
conversation. 'Most assuredly,' he said, 'true happiness is not
circumscribed within the narrow limits of this frail life, and yet God
promises also to believers a happy life, even in this pilgrimage and
earthly dwelling-place, so far as the state of the world permits.'[194]
But the happiness of this blessed household was not to be of long
duration. Lieutenant-criminal Morin was ere long to enter it, throw the
wife into prison, lead the husband to the scaffold, and change the
happiness of a peaceful christian family into sorrow, groans, and tears.

[Sidenote: CALVIN RESOLVES TO LEAVE PARIS.]

Would De la Forge be the only victim? Would the first blows be aimed at
him? Would they not be aimed at Calvin, the author of that bold address
which had thrown both city and university into confusion? Could the
friend of Rector Cop long remain in the capital without once more
exciting the attention of his enemies? A great persecution was about to
burst forth, and if Calvin had been living in the Rue St. Martin at that
time, he would doubtless have been seized along with the pious
tradesman, burnt like the other martyrs, and the history of his life
would have shrunk to a paragraph in the simple annals of Crespin's
_Martyrs_. But the Father in heaven did not permit that _this sparrow
should then fall to the ground_. Calvin had powerful motives which urged
him to leave France. His time in Paris was so taken up with visits,
interviews, and other business, that he sank under the burden, without
being able to discharge what he looked upon as his first duty. He was
called to be a teacher rather than a mere preacher of the Gospel. To
accomplish the great task he had set himself, he needed repose, leisure,
and study, besides interviews and conferences with other theologians. He
adopted a great resolution. 'I shall leave France,' he said, 'and go to
Germany in order to find in some obscure corner the quiet refused to me
elsewhere.'[195]

Du Tillet had determined to accompany him. The two friends made their
preparations; they procured two horses and two servants; and one day
towards the end of July Calvin bade farewell to the pious tradesman who
had been as a brother to him. Their clothes were packed away in
portmanteaus, in one of which they hid their money, and then they were
fastened on the crupper; and so the travellers departed, the masters on
horseback, the servants on foot.

'On reaching the frontier,' says a catholic historian, 'Calvin could not
restrain his emotion; he lifted up his voice in distress that France
rejected the men whom God sent her, and even tried to murder them.'[196]
This exclamation appears rather doubtful, and the historian who reports
it is not always accurate. Still it is possible and not unnatural.

The travellers having entered Lorraine, stopped at Delme near Nancy,
where they halted and walked about the town. During this time one of
their servants, who knew where the money had been hidden, took advantage
of their absence, placed the valise on the best of the two horses, and
rode away as fast as he could. When Calvin and Du Tillet returned, they
discovered the robbery. They wished to pursue the thief, but could not
catch him.[197] The two friends were greatly embarrassed, when the other
servant approached and offered them ten crowns which he had with him.
They accepted his offer and were able to reach Strasburg.

If Calvin had remained in his own country, he would never have been able
to fulfil the career to which he was called; he had no other prospect
but the stake. And yet, he will indeed be her reformer.... True, he
quitted her, but a divine hand fixed him as near as possible to that
land of his affections and of his sorrows. From the picturesque valley,
whence the Rhone continually pours its waves into France, God was about
to scatter by Calvin's means, throughout all the provinces of that great
kingdom, the living waters of the Gospel of Christ.

[159] _Calvin contre les Libertins._ _Opusc. franç._ p. 652;
_Opusc. lat._ p. 510.

[160] _Opusc. franç._ p. 664; _Opusc. lat._ p. 520.

[161] Ibid. p. 666; ibid. p. 523. 'Unicum esse spiritum Dei qui sit et
vivat in omnibus creaturis.'

[162] 'Nullam homini voluntatem tribuunt, ac si esset lapis.'—_Opusc.
lat._ p. 669.

[163] Luth. _Ep._ iii. p. 62.

[164] 'Cest _ty_, c'est _my_, c'est Dieu; car ce que _ty_
ou _my_ faisons, c'est Dieu qui le fait.'

[165] _Opusc. franç._ p. 662; _Opusc. lat._ p. 518.

[166] Calvin, _Matth._ xxii. 29.

[167] 'Deum latronem, furem, scortatorem.'—_Opusc. lat._ p. 530.

[168] 'Nigrum in album commutare.'—Ibid.

[169] _Opusc. franç._ p. 663; _Opusc. lat._ p. 519.

[170] 'Scriptura nasus cereus fiat, aut instar pila, sursum deorsumque
agitetur.'—_Opusc. lat._ p. 519; _Opusc. franç._ p. 663.

[171] 'Se gloriam Dei videre.'—_Opusc. franç._ p. 688; _Opusc.
lat._ p. 547.

[172] 'Tanquam porci in hara stertere.'—_Opusc. lat._ p. 541;
_Opusc. franç._ p. 688.

[173] _Opusc. lat._ p. 501. 'Præstabilius sit leoni quam vulpeculæ
similem esse.'

[174] Ut quemadmodum sacerdotes et monachi cantillando, sic ipsi
garriendo vitam quærerent.'—_Opusc. franç._ p. 652; _Opusc.
lat._ p. 511.

[175] 'Adversus fanaticam et furiosam sectam libertinorum, qui se
_spirituales_ vocant, instructio,' &c.—_Opusc. lat._ p. 506.

[176] Théod. de Bèze, _Hist. Eccles._ i. p. 9.

[177] 'In Serveto multæ notæ fanatici spiritus.'—_Corp. Ref._ ii.
p. 660.

[178] 'Bone Deus! quales tragœdias excitabit hæc quæstio ad
posteros.'—Ib. p. 630.

[179] 'Perdat Dominus omnes ecclesiæ tyrannos! Amen.'—_Christ.
Restitutio._

[180] 'Declarat Christum esse Deum, non natura sed specie, non per
naturam sed per gratiam.'—_De Trinitatis Erroribus_, 1531, fol. 12.

[181] Luther, _Ep._ iv. p. 423.

[182] Trechsel, _Protestant. Anti-trinit._ i. p. 100.

[183] 'Pro suggestu pronuntiavit dignum esse qui avulsis visceribus
discerperetur.'—Calvin, _Ep. et Resp._ p. 154.

[184] 'Obtuli meam operam ad cum sanandum.'—Calvin, _Op._ viii. p.
511.

[185] 'Nec per me stetisse quominus resipiscenti manum pii omnes
porrigerent.'—_Ibid._

[186] 'Diutius quidem sed frustra expectavit.'—Beza, _Vita
Calvini_.

[187] Trechsel, _Die Protestant. Anti-trinit._ i. p. 110.

[188] 'Qua ruina immortalitatem suam perdiderit.'—_Opusc. lat._ p.
19.

[189] Calvinus Libertino (Fabri). Neuchatel MSS.

[190] 'Nonnullos bonos viros.'—_Opusc. lat. Psychopan. Lectoribus._

[191] Johannes von Müller.

[192] For Calvin's influence on the French language see my _History of
the Reformation_, vol. iii, bk. xii. ch. xv.

[193] 'Quædam paulo acrius atque etiam asperius dicta quæ aures
quorundam delicatulas radere fortasse possent.'—_Calvinus
Libertino._

[194] Calvin, _Psaumes_, 128.

[195] 'Relicta patria, Germaniam concessi, ut in obscuro aliquo angulo
abditus, quiete denegata fruerer.'—_Præf. in Psalm._

[196] Varillas, _Hist. des Rév. rel._ ii. p. 490.

[197] Beza, _Vita Calvini_.




 CHAPTER IX.
 THE PLACARDS.
 (OCTOBER 1534.)


Calvin had hardly left Paris when the clouds gathered over the little
church of the metropolis. 'There was no year,' says a chronicler of the
sixteenth century, speaking of 1534, 'when such great marvels happened
in divers countries; but of all these marvels none is more worthy to be
remembered than that which caused it to be named _the year of the
placards_.'[198]

The christians of Paris met together frequently in one another's houses.
'The Lord,' said they, 'commands His disciples to go forth and scatter
the doctrine of salvation into all corners of the world.' The hive was
swarming, as it had recently done at Poitiers. Le Comte, whom we have
mentioned, quitted his friends, and after many dangers reached Morat, to
assist Farel in his evangelical work.[199] Another Lutheran, whose
journey was to be productive of disastrous results, followed the same
road not long after.

[Sidenote: TEMPORISERS AND SCRIPTURISTS.]

There were, as we have seen, two distinct parties among the evangelical
christians of France: the _temporisers_ and the _scripturists_. They
sometimes came in contact, and each of them resolutely defended their
own views. The _temporisers_ looked to Margaret, to the king her
brother, and to alliances with Henry VIII. and the Protestants of
Germany. Knowing that Francis I. detested the monks, they hoped, with
the help of the Du Bellays, to give France a moderate reform, and
desired to do nothing that might offend him. They waited.

As for the _scripturists_, that is to say, the evangelicals of the
school of Calvin, diplomacy made them feel uneasy; the king's protection
annoyed them, and the idea of recognising the bishops and the pope
alarmed them. They saw all kinds of superstition following in the train
of the hierarchy, and they were determined to resist stoutly everything
that might bring back the _idols_ to the temple of God.

[Sidenote: FERET SENT TO CONSULT FAREL.]

As the two parties could not come to an understanding, they determined
to send one of their number to Switzerland, in order to obtain the
opinion of Farel and the other refugees. Should they wait or should they
act?—such was the question they put. They selected for that consultation
a simple, pious, intelligent Christian, by name Feret, who belonged to
the royal pharmacy: he accepted the mission and departed. No one
suspected at that time that this journey would lead to an explosion that
would shake the capital, terrify France, and perhaps destroy the cause
of the Reformation.

Feret proceeded to Switzerland. He had hardly crossed the Jura when a
striking spectacle met his eyes. Everything was in commotion, as in a
hive of bees. Farel, Viret, Saunier, Olivetan, Froment, Marcourt,
Hollard, Le Comte, and others besides, coming from Dauphiny, Basle,
Paris, Strasburg, or belonging to the country, were boldly preaching the
evangelical doctrine everywhere. At Neufchatel all _idolatry_ had been
removed from public worship; and the same had been done at Aigle, and in
its four _mandements_. Orbe, Grandson, and the Pays de Vaud were
beginning to make up their minds; Geneva was tottering; the old
Waldenses of Piedmont were holding out their hands to the new reformers.
In many places they were even 'destroying the altars and breaking down
the images,' according to the command in Deuteronomy.[200] What a
contrast with the timid precautions of the christians of Paris! Feret
was quite struck with it, and that alone was an answer.

He explained to the christians to whom he was accredited the very
different state of things at Paris; he described the difficulties of
France and the two parties that existed among the reformed, and asked
for their advice. Farel and his friends held that a subject ought not to
rise in rebellion against his lord, but if the king of France commanded
anything forbidden by the King of heaven, it was necessary to obey him
who was the master of the other. These decided christians rejected all
those medleys of the Gospel and popery that Francis I., Margaret of
Navarre, Du Bellay, and even Melanchthon (as it was said) desired.
'These two (the Gospel and the pope) cannot exist together,' they said,
'any more than fire and water.' The mass especially, that main point of
the Romish doctrine, must, in their opinion, be abolished. If the papal
hierarchy was the tree whose deadly shade killed the living seeds of the
Word, the mass was its root. It must be plucked up, and thus prevented
from stretching its fatal branches any longer over the wide field of
Christendom. The writing and posting of placards were proposed.

What indeed could be done? Oppression kept the boldest voices silent. It
was necessary to draw up an energetic protest against error, and place
it at the same moment, if possible, before the eyes of all France. Farel
undertook the task; he could not write without making use of 'his
trenchant style and thundering eloquence.'[201] He reflected on the
evils that afflicted his country. Indignation guided his daring pen; his
style was uneven, harsh perhaps, but masculine, nervous, and full of
fire. At length the evangelical protest was written, and Farel laid it
before his brethren, who accepted it, believing that it would be _like a
hammer that breaketh the rock in pieces_. The document was taken to the
printer's, and came out in two forms: in placards to be posted up
against the walls, and little tracts that were to be dropped in the
streets.[202] The sheets were packed up and intrusted to the care of
Feret, who departed with the precious bales containing 'the thunderbolt
forged on Farel's anvil.'[203] No one stopped him at the frontier; he
traversed Franche-Comté, Burgundy, and Champagne without difficulty, and
arrived in Paris.

[Sidenote: DISCUSSION ABOUT THE PLACARDS.]

The evangelical christians of the capital, impatient to receive news
from Switzerland, assembled hastily, and Feret laid the placard before
them. Those energetic words, written at the foot of the Jura, seemed
strangely bold when they were read under the walls of the Sorbonne, and
at the gates of the Louvre. That brave and pious minister, Courault,
came forward in the meeting as the organ of the 'men of judgment,' as
they were afterwards called. 'Let us beware of posting up these
placards,' he said; 'we shall only inflame the rage of our adversaries
thereby, and increase the dispersion of believers.' But on the other
hand, those who were alarmed at the steps taken by Francis I. to unite
the pope and the Gospel were delighted. 'Let us be cautious of so
squaring our prudence,' they said, 'that it does not make us act like
cowards. If we look timidly from one side to the other to see how far we
can go without exposing our lives, we shall forsake Jesus Christ.' In
their view it was of importance to confess the Lord in the sight of
France, and in order to do so, they were ready, like the martyrs of old,
to encounter death. Many of the opposite party gave way, and the
publication of the placard was resolved on. These sincere Christians
were so firmly convinced of the divinity of their doctrine, and so full
of faith, that they expected an intervention from God—not a miraculous
one indeed, but an extraordinary one—'a rushing mighty wind from
heaven,' and 'cloven tongues like as of fire,' which should kindle all
hearts. They thought that God would by this declaration open to France
the gate of His spiritual treasures.

The consultation continued. Where should they circulate this paper?
asked some. 'All over Paris,' was the reply:—'All over France,' answered
others. They were not unknown individuals who deliberated thus: the
wealthy tradesman, Du Bourg, and his friends were there, and if
Bartholomew Milon could not act, at least he gave advice which was to
cost him dear. The warmest friends of the Reformation shared the work
between them: each man had his district, his province. 'They portioned
out the kingdom in order to do _the same in every city_,' says the
catholic Fontaine; and the night of the 24th of October was appointed
for this daring enterprise.[204] The placards were divided among those
who were to post them up or to distribute them. Knowing that unless God
made the truth enter into the heart, they would do nothing but _beat the
air in vain_,[205] these pious men exhorted one another to 'pray to God
with fervent zeal.' Then every man returned home, carrying with him a
bundle of placards and a parcel of tracts.

[Sidenote: THE PLACARDS POSTED UP.]

When the night came, the selected men left their houses, carrying the
printed sheets in their hands; and each one did his duty in his quarter,
silently and mysteriously. The fervent christian who thus hazarded his
life, took, however, certain precautions; he listened to hear if any one
were coming, hastily stuck the bill on the wall, and then glided
noiselessly away to some other place, where he posted up another. In a
short time the streets, market-places, and crossways were covered with
the evangelical proclamation, some being fixed even on the walls of the
Louvre. As the day appeared, most of these daring men returned home; but
others hid themselves, and from a distance watched to see what would
happen.

A few persons began to come out of doors; they went up to the large
handbills and stopped to examine them. Gradually a crowd was formed,
some friars approached: hundreds of persons of every class collected
round the strange placards. They were read aloud, remarks were made upon
them, and the most diverse sentiments were expressed; many persons gave
vent to indignation and threats; some approved, the greater part were
astounded. The crowd was particularly large in the streets of St. Denis
and St. Honoré, in the Place Royale, in the city, at the gates of the
churches, and of the Sorbonne and the Louvre. Let us read this terrible
handbill, as it was read in the streets of the capital. The public of
our age will find it too severe and possibly too long, and we must
abridge it a little; but the men of the sixteenth century read it to the
end, and notwithstanding its defects, its action was powerful. Like the
shock of an earthquake, it made all France tremble. It began with a
solemn invocation:—

 TRUTHFUL ARTICLES
 CONCERNING THE HORRIBLE, GREAT, AND UNBEARABLE ABUSES
 OF THE POPISH MASS,
 INVENTED DIRECTLY
 AGAINST THE HOLY SUPPER OF OUR LORD,
 THE ONLY MEDIATOR AND ONLY SAVIOUR, JESUS CHRIST.

'I invoke heaven and earth in witness of the truth against that proud
and pompous popish mass, for the world (if God does not apply a remedy)
is and will be by it totally desolated, ruined, lost, and undone; seeing
that in it our Lord is outrageously blasphemed, and the people blinded
and led astray. Which ought not to be borne any longer.

'In the first place, every believing christian ought to be very certain
that our Lord and only Saviour, Jesus Christ, the great bishop and
pastor ordained of God, has given His body and soul, His life and blood
for our sanctification, by a perfect sacrifice. To renounce this
sacrifice as if it were insufficient, to replace it by a visible
sacrifice, namely, the mass, as if Christ had not fully satisfied for us
the justice of His Father, and as if He were not the Saviour and
Mediator, would be a terrible and damnable heresy.

'The world has been, and in many places still is, filled with wretched
high-priests, who, as if they were our redeemers, set themselves in
Christ's place, and pretend to offer an acceptable sacrifice to God for
the salvation both of the living and the dead: do not these people make
the apostles and evangelists liars, and do they not even belie
themselves, since they chant every Sunday at vespers that Jesus Christ
is a _priest for ever_?...

'Yes, by the great and admirable sacrifice of Jesus Christ all outward
and visible sacrifice is abolished. Christ, says the Epistle to the
Hebrews (which I entreat everybody to read diligently), _was offered
once for all.—By one offering he hath perfected for ever them that are
sanctified._ Christ offered _once_ and not _often_.... If the sacrifice
is perfect, why should it be repeated?... Come forward then, ye priests,
and answer if ye can!

'That is not all. By this unhappy mass the whole world has been plunged
into a common idolatry. Are we not given to understand falsely that
under the forms of bread and wine Jesus Christ is corporeally, really,
and personally contained, in flesh and bone, as long, broad, and entire
as when He was alive?... And yet Holy Scripture and our faith teaches us
the contrary, that Jesus Christ, after his resurrection, ascended into
heaven. St. Paul writes to the Colossians, _Seek those things which are
above, where_ CHRIST SITTETH ON THE RIGHT HAND OF GOD. Listen: St. Paul
does not say: Seek Christ who is in the mass, or in the sanctuary, or in
the box, or in the cupboard. He says: Seek Christ _who is in heaven_. If
the body is in heaven, it is not on earth; and if it is on earth, it is
not in heaven. A real body can never be in more than one place at a
time, where it occupies a certain space of a certain size. It is
impossible for a man twenty or thirty years old to be hidden in a bit of
dough like their wafer.

'Augustin knew this well when he wrote: "Until the world comes to an
end, _the Lord is on high_; but His divinity is everywhere."[206] And so
did Fulgentius, when he wrote: "The Lord was absent from heaven,
according to his human nature, when he was on earth; and _he left the
earth when he ascended to heaven_. But as for the divine nature, it
never quitted heaven when he came down to earth, and did not leave the
earth when he ascended to heaven."[207]

'When any one of us says: _Lo, here is Christ, or there_! the priests
say: We must believe him. But Christ says: _Believe it not_. At the
moment of the communion they chant _Sursum corda_, Lift your hearts on
high; but they do the contrary, and exhort us to seek Christ not _on
high_, but in their hands, in their boxes, and in their cupboards.

'Nay, further, these blind priests, adding error to error, teach in
their madness, that after they have breathed upon or spoken over the
bread, which they take between their fingers, and also over the wine
that they put in the chalice, there remains neither bread nor wine, but
that Jesus Christ is there alone by _transubstantiation_.... Big and
monstrous words ... doctrine of devils, opposed to all Scripture.
I ask these cope-wearers, Where did they find that big word
TRANSUBSTANTIATION?... St. Matthew, St. Mark, St. John, St. Paul, and
the old Fathers never spoke of it. When they made mention of the Lord's
Supper, those holy writers openly and simply called the bread and wine,
_bread_ and _wine_. St. Paul does not say: Eat the body of Jesus Christ;
but: Eat this _bread_. Ah! Scripture employs no deception, and there is
no pretence in it. The bread is therefore bread.

'Presumptuous enemies of the Word of God, shameless heretics, they are
not satisfied with pretending to enclose the body of Jesus Christ in
their wafer; but see into what absurdities their superstition leads
them. They are not ashamed to say that the body of Jesus Christ may be
eaten by rats, spiders, and vermin.... Yes, there it is printed in red
letters in their missals, in the twenty-second Item, beginning thus: If
the body of the Lord be eaten by mice and spiders, be reduced to
nothing, or be very much gnawed, or if the maggot is found whole
inside ... let it be burned and placed in the reliquary!

'O earth! why openest thou not to swallow up these horrible blasphemers?
O hateful men! Is that gnawed body really the body of Jesus Christ, the
Son of God?... Would the Lord suffer Himself to be eaten by mice and
spiders? He who is the bread of angels and of all the children of God,
has been given us to feed vermin? Him, who is incorruptible, at the
right hand of God, will you make liable to worms and rottenness? Did not
David write the contrary, prophesying his own resurrection?... Wretches!
were there no other evil in all your infernal theology than the
irreverence with which you speak of the precious body of Jesus, are you
not blasphemers and heretics?... yea, the greatest and most enormous the
world has ever seen.

'Kindle, yes, kindle your faggots, but let it be to burn and roast
yourselves.... Why should you kindle them for us? Because we will not
believe in your idols, in your new Gods, in your new Christs, who let
themselves be eaten by vermin, and in you also, who are worse than
vermin.

'What mean all these games you play round your God of dough, toying with
him like a cat with a mouse? You break him into three pieces ... and
then you put on a piteous look as if you were very sorrowful; you beat
your breasts ... you call him the Lamb of God, and pray to him for
peace. St. John showed Jesus Christ ever present, ever living, living
all in one—an adorable truth! but you show your wafer divided into
pieces, and then you eat it, calling for something to drink.... What
would any man say who had never witnessed such monkey tricks?... Did St.
Paul or St. John ever eat Christ in that manner? and would they
acknowledge such mountebanks as the servants of God?

'Finally the practice of your mass is very contrary to the practice of
the Holy Supper of Jesus Christ!... Certainly, there is no marvel in
that, for there is nothing common between Christ and Belial.

'The Holy Supper of Jesus Christ reminds us of the great love with which
He loved us so that He washed us in His blood. It presents to us on the
part of the Lord the body and blood of His Son, in order that we should
communicate in the sacrifice of His death, and that Jesus should be our
everlasting food. It calls us to make protest of our faith, and of the
certain confidence we have of being saved, Jesus having ransomed us. By
giving to all of us only one bread it reminds us of the charity in which
we, being all of the same spirit, ought to live. That Holy Supper, being
thus fully understood, rejoices the believer's soul, in all humility,
and imparts to him all gentle kindness and loving charity.

'But the fruit of the mass is very different. By it the preaching of the
Gospel is prevented. The time is occupied with bell-ringing, howling,
chanting, empty ceremonies, candles, incense, disguises, and all manner
of conjuration. And the poor world, looked upon as a lamb or as sheep,
is miserably deceived, cajoled, led astray—what do I say? bitten,
gnawed, and devoured as if by ravening wolves.

'By means of this mass they have laid hands on everything, destroyed
everything, swallowed up everything. By its means they have disinherited
princes and kings, lords and shopkeepers, and all whom we could name,
dead or alive.... O false witnesses, traitors, robbers of the honour of
God, and more hateful than the devils themselves!

'In short, the truth chases them, the truth alarms them, and by truth
shall their reign shortly be destroyed for ever.'

Such was the proclamation posted up in Paris and all over France. We
trace in it, we must confess, the coarseness of the language of the
sixteenth century, and especially in a passage which must have greatly
stirred the anger of the clergy, where the placard, in speaking of the
pope and cardinals, priests and monks, calls them false prophets,
wolves, seducers, and gives them other names besides, which are rarely
employed in our days except in the bulls of the Roman pontiffs. We
discover in this writing the antipapistical spirit in all its
unreflecting force. Certainly, when it says that the true Supper of
Christ 'rejoices the believer's soul, and imparts to him all gentle
kindness and loving charity,' we taste the savour of the Gospel; but,
generally speaking, this manifesto is an engine of war with a brazen
head. If we transport ourselves to the early days of the Reformation, we
can understand that it was necessary to employ vigorous battering-rams
to beat down the old and apparently unshakeable walls of popery. Every
line in this placard reveals to us the warm-hearted, but also 'the
impetuous and eloquent Farel, frank, decisive, intrepid among men, who
had the admirable heart of the knight without reproach, with his thirst
for danger, and was the Bayard of the battles of God.'[208] The work
resembles the workman.

While conceding something to the times in which the placard was written
and posted up, we may ask whether that act proceeded solely from a
movement of the mind free from every tinge of human passion, and was one
of the arms that the apostles would have employed. In any case it seems
to us certain that more moderate language would really have been
stronger, and more surely have attained its end. This is what the event
will show.

[198] Crespin, _Martyrol._ fol. 3. Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Hérés._
viii. ch. v.

[199] Ruchat, _Hist. Réf. Suisse_, tom. iii. p. 132, after a MS. journal
of Jean le Comte.

[200] Chap. vii. 5.

[201] Crespin, _Martyrol._ fol. III.

[202] Ibid.

[203] Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Hérés._ liv. vii. chap. v. In the Latin
edition we read: 'Famoso libello a Farello, ut creditur,
composito.'—p. 228.

[204] This is the date given in the _Journal d'un Bourgeois de Paris_,
p. 440. Fontaine, in his _Histoire Catholique_, gives the 18th October.

[205] Calvin, _passim_.

[206] 'Sursum Dominus est.'—Aug. _Ep. ad Dardanum_.

[207] 'Secundum humanam substantiam dereliquerat terrain cum ascendisset
in cœlum.'—Fulg. _ad Thrasimundum_, lib. ii.

[208] Michelet, _Hist. de France_; the volume entitled 'La Réforme.'




 CHAPTER X.
 THE KING'S ANGER.
 (AUTUMN 1534.)


[Sidenote: A NEW MISSIVE.]

The terrible placard posted up during the night in Paris and over a
great part of France, 'in every corner,' says Sturm,[209] produced an
immense sensation. The people were agitated, the women and the weak
alarmed, and the magistrates filled with indignation.[210] But the
adversaries of popery did not relax their blows. At almost the same time
there appeared another treatise 'against the pope's traffickers and
taverners.' This writing, which was less evangelical, was rather in the
mocking spirit of Erasmus. 'Everything must subserve the cupidity of the
priests,' it said; 'heaven, earth, and hell, time, all creatures animate
and inanimate, wine, bread, and oil, flax, milk, butter, cheese, water,
salt, fire, and fumigations.... From all these they knew how to
extract ... silver and gold. And the dress of the dealer adds to the price
of his wares, for a mass by an abbot or a bishop costs more than one by a
curate or a friar. Like women of ill fame, they sell their shame all the
dearer the gayer the ornaments they wear.'[211] The agitation increased
hourly; priests and friars, scattered among the groups of citizens and
people, fomented their anger, increased their terror, and circulated
false reports. 'The heretics,' it was said, 'have resolved to surprise
the catholics during divine service, and to murder men, women, and
children without mercy.' An absurd imputation, invented, says a Romish
historian, to make the reformers odious. It was believed all the same,
and horrible rumours began shortly to circulate among the crowd. 'A
frightful plot has been laid against the State and the Church. This
placard is the signal; the heretics intend to fire the churches and
palaces, massacre the catholics, abolish the monarchy, and reduce the
kingdom to a desert.... Death to the Lutherans!'

Nowhere was the fury so great as at the Sorbonne among the doctors: the
first outbreak of their anger was incredibly violent.'This action,' says
the chronicler, 'led them into such fury that their former violence
seemed tolerable. No tempest ever equalled it in severity.'[212] The
thunderbolt was destined, however, to be launched from a different
quarter.

Francis I., who was then at Blois, had for some time felt a certain
uneasiness with regard to the Reform. One day in 1534, when he was
complaining of the pope to the nuncio, and insinuating that France might
easily imitate the example of Henry VIII., 'Frankly, sire,' replied the
nuncio, 'you will be the first to suffer; the religion of a people
cannot be changed without their next demanding the change of the
prince.' It had been of no use to tell Francis that neither the German
princes, nor Henry VIII. himself, had been dethroned by the Reformation:
the nuncio's words had sunk like an arrow into his heart.

[Sidenote: THE PLACARD ON THE KING'S DOOR.]

Blois was not exempt from the evangelical movement, and the Reform had
made its way among the choristers of the royal chapel: it was one of
these who was commissioned to post up the placards in that city. Being
of a daring and enthusiastic temperament, this individual resolved to
post the protestant manifesto in the castle itself, to which he had easy
access.[213] Entering it at a favourable moment, he crept with his
handbills as far as the king's chamber, and being satisfied that there
were no servants or courtiers in the gallery, he fastened the paper to
His Majesty's door, and then retired hastily.[214] This imprudent and
guilty action, for it was disrespectful, was to be cruelly atoned for.

Montmorency and the Cardinal de Tournon appeared in the morning before
the king as was their custom. They had the ear of Francis I., and had
long been looking for an opportunity to deal a desperate blow at the
Reformation. Just as these two personages were about to enter the king's
closet, they caught sight of the placard posted on the door; they
stopped and read it, and taking the matter seriously, not without
reason, they tore down the paper angrily, and carried it in to their
master.[215] Nothing in the world could excite him so much as an attack
like that: his royal dignity was in his eyes almost as sacred as the
Divine majesty. He trembled and turned pale; he took the paper and then
gave it back, and disturbed by such unheard-of audacity, he ordered them
to read it.

[Sidenote: THE KING'S INDIGNATION.]

It was what Tournon wanted. He read the document to the king, dwelling
on the most irritating passages; but the prince could not hold out to
the end. The insult offered to his person, the impression which such a
public scandal might produce on his allies, and especially on the pope,
the reflection that at the very moment when he was preparing the
reconciliation of protestants and catholics, a few fanatics should stir
up all the passions of the priests and the people, and cause his pacific
designs to fail—all this exasperated his mind more than the attack upon
the mass. Those who were about him took advantage of the opportunity,
and represented the affair as one of high-treason. Montmorency and De
Tournon drove the bolt deep into the king's heart. 'He burst into a
transport of passion,' wrote Sturm to Melanchthon; 'he was so inflamed,'
says the _Book of Martyrs_;[216] 'he put himself in such a rage,' says
Theodore Beza; 'he became so hot that everybody trembled about him,'
says the catholic Fontaine.—'Let all be seized without distinction,' he
exclaimed, 'who are suspected of _Lutheresy_. I will exterminate them
all.'

The event caused a great agitation; nothing else was talked of, and
every one described it in his own manner. 'Do you know,' said some,
'that the king, in the very height of his passion, taking his
handkerchief from his pocket, pulled out a placard, which fell at his
feet: some clever fellow had slipped the copy in.' 'You may believe it,
if you like,' says Fontaine, estimating this popular story at its real
value. The whole household of the castle was immediately on the alert to
discover the author of the misdeed, which was no hard matter. The
Lutheran opinions of the chorister were known to many; he was arrested,
put in chains, and sent to Paris to be tried.[217]

But the king's wrath was not to be confined to this man. The crime had
been committed everywhere, the punishment must be inflicted everywhere.
'Write and order the parliament to execute strict justice,' said the
king; 'and tell the lieutenant-criminal that, to encourage him, I
increase his salary by six hundred livres a year for life.[218] Let
inquisition be made forthwith through all the realm for the people who
are such enemies of God.'

The parliament had not waited for the king's orders. On the morrow of
the famous day, the 26th October, the chief president, Pierre Lizet,
convened all the chambers, and the crowded court, being moved and
indignant, ordered a minute search and processions to be made. The
trumpets sounded, the people assembled, and an officer of the parliament
proclaimed: 'Whosoever shall give information as to the person or
persons who stuck up the said placards, he shall receive from the court
a reward of one hundred crowns; and all who conceal them shall be
burnt.'[219]

All this while the evangelical christians, and especially those who had
set fire to the mine, alarmed at the terrible explosion it had made,
remained hidden and silent in their houses. They knew Morin's skill in
discovering his victims and inventing tortures; a dark future saddened
their countenances. Then were heard among them groans, and regrets, and
mournful deliberations. 'What shall we do?' they said. Take
flight!—What! leave home, and family, and country without knowing where
to go?... How gloomy the future! But is it not better to lose all these
than to lose your life?... Such were the heart-rending conversations
held almost everywhere.[220] Fathers and wives and children conjured
with tears those whom they loved to get out of the way of the king's
anger. Some of them, indeed, did leave their homes by night and
flee.[221] Many of those who had not posted the placards, but who were
known by the frank confession of their faith, thought that the danger
could not concern them.... The unhappy people hesitated and delayed, and
many of them paid dearly for their imprudent security.[222]

[Sidenote: THE BRETHREN BETRAYED.]

The lieutenant-criminal, a great opponent of the religious movement, and
a man of very dissolute life, of rare audacity in catching criminals,
and remarkable subtlety in entrapping them by their answers,[223] was
meditating the plan of his campaign. His vanity, his greed, his
hatred—all his passions were engaged in the business. He desired to
catch all the heretics together by one cast of his net. But how? A
bright idea struck him: by seizing one man, he hoped to take all the
rest. 'You know that shop where they sell sheaths and other such
articles, in the Rue de la Vannerie leading to the Grève,' he said to
one of his officers. 'Go and arrest the sheath-maker and bring him to
me.'—'Sheath-maker,' he said, 'you are one of the heretics, and what is
worse, you are their _convener_, I know full well. It is you, do not
deny it, who inform them of the places where their secret meetings are
to be held. I have a wish to assemble them; you will lead me to their
houses.' The poor man, understanding what he meant, tremblingly refused
to commit such treason. The lieutenant-criminal ordered a scaffold to be
got ready. As soon as the officials had left the room, Morin turned to
the sheath-maker: 'It is you that conduct the people to church, and it
is quite fair that you should begin the dance.' The wretched man
trembled. What a frightful alternative! How could he go to those whom he
was wont to summon to the temple of God, in order to deliver them to the
flames? There was a terrible struggle in his soul, but the fear of God
was overcome, the light of reason extinct, all regard for honour put
aside. 'Satan entered into Judas,' and he sought how he could betray his
brethren. Believing himself 'on the point of being burnt,' says Beza, he
promised all he was asked.[224]

Paris was all in commotion. The streets were hung with drapery,
processions were made, and in order to wipe out the insult offered to
the mass, the _Corpus Domini_ was carried solemnly through every
parish.[225] Morin took advantage of this agitation to conceal his
proceedings. The treacherous sheath-maker went before him, pale and
trembling; sergeants followed him at a little distance, and this cruel
company glided silently through the streets. The sheath-maker stopped
and pointed to a door: Morin entered. The startled family protested
their innocence in vain. The lieutenant ordered the poor creatures to be
manacled, and then continued his pitiless course. 'He spared no house,
great or small,' says the chronicler, 'not even the colleges of the
university of Paris.'

[Sidenote: VALETON AND HIS BOOKS SEIZED.]

By degrees the news of this horrible expedition spread through the
capital; anguish seized not only the friends of Farel, but all who were
not fanatical adherents of Rome, and even the mere followers of learning
or of pleasure, who had no taste for the Reformation. 'Morin made all
the city quake,'[226] for no one knew that he might not be among the
number of the suspected. In many houses a look-out was kept, to observe
whether the terrible troop was coming. Nicholas Valeton the receiver,
who kept near the window, saw Morin approaching; hurriedly turning away,
he said to his wife: 'Here he is, take the chest of books out of my
room.... I will run and meet him; I will speak to him and detain him, so
as to give you time.' The startled young woman took the books and
hastily thrust them into a hiding-place. 'Arrest this man,' said the
lieutenant-criminal, immediately he saw Valeton; 'let him be put into
close confinement.' He then went upstairs and searched every corner, saw
the empty chest, but found nothing. Being impatient to interrogate his
prisoner, he did not stop, but proceeded straight to the prison whither
he had been taken. He could not entrap him. The receiver, being a clever
man, eluded all his questions. The lieutenant began to grow nervous;
thinking to himself that the receiver had influence, and was a man
likely to bear him a grudge, he resolved to destroy him by proceeding
more craftily.[227] The empty chest recurred to his mind; it must have
contained something that had been removed at his approach. He
immediately returned to the house of the accused, and standing near the
chest, said in a natural tone: 'Madame, your husband has confessed that
he kept his books and secret papers in this trunk. Besides, we are
agreed; I desire to behave mercifully towards him; if you give a certain
sum of money and tell me where the books are, I swear to you before God
that your husband shall suffer no prejudice.' The wife, who was 'young,
thoughtless,' and much disturbed by what had taken place, suffered
herself to be caught by this trick. Morin put so many 'crafty and subtle
questions,' that trusting in his promise, she told him everything.
'Good!' thought the lieutenant-criminal, 'he wished to hide his books
from us, because he felt himself guilty of heresy.' Having seized them,
he left the house, and putting the papers in a place of safety, went to
look for other victims.

If there was one man in Paris who could not be suspected of having fixed
up the placards, it was the poor paralytic: he could hardly leave his
bed. That was of no consequence; and Bartholomew Milon was one of the
first towards whose house Morin turned his steps. He had had him in his
prisons before this; 'but,' says the _Book of Martyrs_, 'the Lord had
delivered him to make him serve for the consolation of his people in
this bitter season.' The lieutenant-criminal knew the shoemaker's shop
very well; it was noted down in his books. He entered, like one out of
his mind and foaming with rage, into the room where poor Berthelot was
lying. 'Come, get up!' he cried, looking fiercely at him. Bartholomew,
'not being terrified by the hideous face of the tyrant,' replied, with a
sweet smile: 'Alas! sir, it wants a greater master than you to make me
rise.'—'Take this fellow away,' said the brute to his creatures, and
after ordering them to carry with them a piece of furniture in which the
paralytic kept his papers, he continued his inglorious campaign.

[Sidenote: ARRESTS.]

The lieutenant-criminal now proceeded towards the gate of St. Denis, to
the sign of the _Black Horse_, and entered the shop of the wealthy
tradesman, Du Bourg. When they caught sight of him, all who had any
employment there were startled; but although they loved their master
well, no one stirred to defend him. The draper's wife, daughter of
another rich tradesman named Favereau, was not so tranquil: bursting
into tears and shrieking, she conjured the cruel Morin not to take her
husband away. Nothing could soften him, and he arrested Du Bourg. 'He is
one of those who pasted up the papers at the corners of the streets,'
said the lieutenant, and took him away. Next came the turn of the poor
bricklayer, Poille, who was captured in his wretched hut.

After them many persons without distinction of rank or sex were shut
up—those who had condemned the placards as well as those who had
approved of them. Informers were not wanting; they were given a fourth
part of the property of the accused, and accordingly these _quadruplers_
(as they were called)[228] were indefatigable in hunting out victims;
each of them could be accuser and witness in one. It was a reign of
terror, and all good people were astounded at it.

The Sorbonne took advantage of this furious tempest to be avenged on
Margaret and to punish her friends. That princess had quitted Béarn at
the beginning of summer to be present at the marriage of her
sister-in-law, Isabella of Navarre, with Viscount de Rohan, and had
obtained her brother's permission for Roussel, who was with her, as well
as Courault and Berthaud, to preach in Paris. These moderate men were
strongly opposed to the act accomplished in the night of the 25th
October; they were thrown into prison all the same. As there was no
apprehension of offending the king's allies, many Germans were roughly
seized, catholics as well as protestants; it was enough to have a
transrhenane accent to be suspected of heresy.

In the meantime Francis I. arrived in Paris. Cardinals, Sorbonne,
Parliament, all the ardent friends of Roman-catholicism, outvied each
other in zeal to confirm 'this wise and good prince'[229] in his
religion, which had been somewhat shaken. They must take advantage of
the crisis to detach him from his alliances with the English and the
Saxons. Now was the time for striking the blow and for severing these
guilty ties. Cardinal de Tournon was particularly indefatigable and
continually calling for punishments. When Du Chatel, bishop of Tulle,
declared his opposition to sanguinary measures: 'Your tolerance has a
suspicious look,' said De Tournon; 'it is unbecoming a true son of the
Church.'—'I am acting like a bishop,' answered Du Chatel, firmly, 'and
you like a hangman.' But nothing could check either the Cardinal or
Duprat. They said to Francis: 'Carefully preserve the honour which
Pius II. gave our kings when he said: The kings of France have this
peculiarity, that they preserve the catholic faith and the honour of
churchmen;' and added: 'We prevent the spreading of a fire, by knocking
down the houses which it has first touched, and even the adjoining ones;
do likewise, Sire; order those to be exterminated utterly and without
reserve, who rebel against the Church. Kindle the fires and erect
gibbets for the use of the Lutherans.'[230]

A new act of madness (as some historians relate, but which we can hardly
believe) inflamed the king's wrath still further. The very night of his
arrival, we are told, the placards reappeared and were stuck on the
gates of the Louvre. Nay more; it is asserted that as Francis I. was
going to bed, he found the document under his pillow. The historian who
records these things is very prone to exaggeration,[231] and I am
inclined to think that such stories are mere fables invented by the
enemies of the Reform, its friends being just then too terrified to show
such boldness.

[Sidenote: MARGARET'S SORROW.]

No one was more alarmed and more agitated than Margaret. Nothing was
more opposed to her nature than the style of the placards; and in
reality they were not only an attack against Rome, but a protest against
the conciliatory catholic system of the Queen of Navarre. Those who
protested in this way bore a certain resemblance (not reckoning their
Christianity) to a well-known character in literature: they condemned
alike the fanatic Romanists and the spiritual Catholics—

  Les uns, parcequ'ils sont méchants et malfaisants,
  Et les autres, pour être aux méchants complaisants.[232]

The queen had not the slightest suspicion of the blow that was
preparing; and at the very moment when she believed the Gospel to be on
the point of gaining the victory, everything seemed ended for it in
France. Her brother's anger, the hard look he turned upon her, for
perhaps the first time, alarmed this princess who had, it is true, a
strong understanding, but also a heart easily moved and even timid. She
shed floods of tears: she had no doubt that the whole affair was the
result of a plot contrived between the Sorbonne and Cardinal de Tournon.
'My lord,' she said to the king, 'we are not sacramentarians. These
infamous placards have been invented by men who wish to make the
responsibility of their abominable manœuvre fall upon us.'[233]

She resolved to do everything to save Roussel at least; the very thought
that he might be burnt terrified her. Why had she not left him at Pau?
Seeing the unusual coldness of the king, she commissioned the perfidious
Montmorency to present her petition. 'They are occupied at this moment,'
she wrote to him, 'with completing their case against Master Gérard; I
hope the king will find him deserving something better than the
stake.... He has never held an opinion tainted with heresy. I have known
him for five years, and if I had seen anything suspicious in him, I
should not have put up so long with such poison. I entreat you, fear not
to speak in my behalf.'[234]

Montmorency, far from being disposed to do what the queen asked,
endeavoured to ruin not only Roussel, but also Margaret herself; while
Cardinals Duprat and De Tournon helped him to insinuate into the king's
mind that his sister had some share in the matter of the placards. The
coldness, the harshness even of Francis I. towards Margaret, increased
daily; heartbroken, and unable to bear up any longer, she left Paris
hastily.

[Sidenote: BEDA ACCUSES FRANCIS.]

Some went further than Duprat and De Tournon, and would have made their
vengeance fall upon the king himself. The impetuous Beda, that tribune
of the Sorbonne, who forgot neither his exile nor his imprisonment,
sought an opportunity of revenging himself on the prince who had
disgraced him. He hated Francis cordially; to do him an injury for the
mere pleasure of doing it was his ambition. Not satisfied with ascribing
the placards to Queen Margaret, he would accuse the king himself. Going
into the pulpit, he preached a sermon against that prince full of
invective. 'If it is not the king who had these bills posted up,' he
said, 'at least he is responsible for them. The favour he shows the
heretics, and his alliance with the King of England, are the cause of
all this mischief.' This time the priest was mistaken in fancying
himself more powerful than the sovereign. Being accused before the
parliament of high-treason,[235] Beda was thrown into prison, condemned
to do penance in front of the church of Notre Dame, and to be confined
for the rest of his days in the abbey of St. Michael, where he died.
Thus perished in obscurity this furious forerunner of the League.

The revolutionary fury of the Romish champion softened Francis a little:
finding himself accused as well as his sister, he recalled her to Paris.
The queen, whose courage was as easily revived as it was cast down,
arrived at the Louvre full of hope, not doubting that she would win over
the king to the golden mean she loved so dearly. But she found Francis
less accessible than she had fancied, and still showing signs of his
ill-humour. But this did not stop her: imprudent and violent men had
wished to abolish the mass by means of a fanatical placard, she will try
to attain the same end by gentler and more prudent means. 'You want no
church and no sacraments,' said the king to her, abruptly. The queen of
Navarre replied that, on the contrary, she wanted both; and profiting by
the opportunity for carrying out her plan, she represented to her
brother that it was necessary to unite the whole of Christendom into one
body with the bishop of Rome at its head; and that for this object, the
priests should be brought to give up voluntarily certain scholastic
doctrines and superstitious practices which stripped the ritual of the
Church of its primitive beauty. Then, taking from her pocket a paper
which Lefèvre had drawn up at her request, during her stay in the south,
she presented it to the king: it was the confession of faith known as
the _Mass of Seven Points_. 'The priest will continue to celebrate
mass,' said Margaret to her brother, 'only it will always be a _public
communion_; he will not uplift the host; it will not be adored; priests
and people will communicate under both kinds; there will be no
commemorations of the Virgin or of the Saints; the communion will be
celebrated with ordinary bread; the priest, after breaking and eating,
will distribute the remainder among the people. Further, priests will
have liberty to marry.'[236] When Francis had heard the seven points of
his sister's mass, he asked her what was left of the Roman mass? Then
the queen, taking him on his weak side—glory—represented to him that by
means of this compromise he would unite all sects, and restore the
Catholic unity which had been broken for so many centuries. Was it not
the greatest honour to which a prince could aspire?

[Sidenote: THE QUEEN'S PREACHERS BEFORE FRANCIS.]

Francis I. appeared to be shaken, but yet he saw great difficulties. The
queen begged him to send for Roussel and the two Augustine monks,
Courault and Berthaud: 'They will show you, I have no doubt,' she said,
'that the thing is practicable.' The king was curious, says an
historian, and accepted the offer. The three evangelicals were taken
from their prison and conveyed to the Louvre, where the queen presented
them to her brother. She was full of joy: the matter of the placards,
which threatened to ruin everything, might possibly be the means of
saving everything. She was deceived. When Francis talked with her, it
was no trouble to be like a kind brother with a sister; but in the
presence of the two friars and Roussel he was a master. These persons
displeased him: the zeal with which they pointed out the errors and
abuses of the mass irritated him, and he sent them back hurriedly to
prison. Men more zealous than they were, had already left their dungeons
for the scaffold.

[209] 'Per universam fere Galliam nocte in omnibus angulis affixerunt
manibus.'—_Corp. Ref._ ii. p. 855.

[210] 'Perturbatus hac re populus, territæ multorum cogitationes,
concitati magistrates.'—Ibid. p. 856.

[211] 'Qua quidem in re, nihil differunt a meretricibus.'—See the
writing _In pontificios mercatores et caupones_.—Gerdes, iv. p.
103.

[212] Crespin, _Martyrol._ fol. 112 verso.

[213] _Journal d'un Bourgeois de Paris_, published by Lalanne, p.
449.

[214] Fontaine, _Hist. Catholique_.

[215] 'Ante regis conclave.'—_Corp. Ref._ ii. p. 856.

[216] Crespin's _Martyrologie_.

[217] _Journal d'un Bourgeois de Paris_, p. 449.

[218] Fontaine, _Hist. Cath._ _Journal d'un Bourgeois de
Paris_, p. 452.

[219] Crespin, _Martyrol._ fol. 112 verso.

[220] Crespin, _Martyrol._ folio 112 verso.

[221] 'Quidam mature sibi consulentes aufugerunt.'—_Corp. Ref._ ii.
p. 856.

[222] 'Qui ad se ea pericula spectare non putabant, qui non contaminati
erant eo scelere, hi etiam in partem pœnarum veniunt.'—Ibid.

[223] Théod. de Bèze, _Hist. Ecclés._ p. 10.

[224] Théod. de Bèze, _Hist. Ecclés._ p. 10.

[225] _Journal d'un Bourgeois_, p. 44.

[226] Crespin, _Martyrol._ fol. 112.

[227] Crespin, _Martyrol._ fol. 113.

[228] 'Delatores et quadruplatores publice comparantur.'—Sturm to
Melanchthon, _Corp. Ref._ ii. p. 856.

[229] Florimond Rémond.

[230] Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Hérés._ vii. ch. v.

[231] Varillas.

[232] 'The one, because they are wicked and evil-doers; the others
because they gratify the wicked.'—_Le Misanthrope._

[233] MSS. Bibl. imp. F. Supplément, No. 133.

[234] _Lettres de la Reine de Navarre_, i, p. 299.

[235] 'Beda conjectus est in carcerem accusatus criminis læsæ
majestatis.'—Cop to Bucer, 5th April, 1535.

[236] _France Protestante_, art. _Marguerite_. Freer, _Life of
Marguerite d'Angoulême_, ii. p. 142.




 CHAPTER XI.
 EXPIATIONS AND PROCESSIONS.
 (END OF 1534 AND BEGINNING OF 1535.)


An expiation was required for the purification of France—solemn
ceremonies, sacrifices, and the stake. Nothing must be wanting to the
expiatory work.

Du Bourg, Milon, Poille, and their friends were lying in prison, waiting
for the day when they were to appear before their judges. The poor
paralytic had remained as calm as in his father's shop: he was even
calmer. Formerly, when friends or kindred, well accustomed to lift him,
had taken him in their arms, he had cried out with the pain he felt in
every limb. But now, in prison, he bore it all without pain, and 'the
roughest handling seemed tender.' Receiving unknown strength from God,
he was tranquil and joyful under tribulation. That holy patience spread
peace in the hearts of his companions in misfortune. 'It is impossible
to tell the consolation he afforded them,' says the chronicler. They all
found themselves in a dark road which led to a cruel death, but this
poor man walked before them like a torch, to guide and gladden them with
its soft light.

The day of trial arrived: it was the 10th of November, a fortnight after
the placards. Seven prisoners were taken to the Châtelet: entering that
ancient building, where some remains of Cæsar's walls are still to be
seen, they appeared before the criminal chamber, and the king's advocate
in his scarlet robe called for a severe sentence. The poor paralytic
could not be accused of running about the city to fasten up the
handbills; he was convicted all the same of having some at his father's
shop. Justice was at once prompt and cruel. These virtuous men were all
condemned to have their property confiscated, to do public penance, and
to be burnt alive at different places, and on different days. The court
thought that by spreading the punishments, they would extend the terror
more widely. The sentence was confirmed by the parliament.[237]

[Sidenote: MARTYRDOM OF MILON.]

On the 13th November, three days after the sentence, one of the turnkeys
entered the cell of the paralytic, and lifting him in his arms like a
child, carried him to a tumbril; the procession then took its way
towards the Grève. As he passed before his father's house, Milon greeted
it with a smile. He reached the place of execution, where the stake had
been prepared. 'Lower the flames,' said the officer in command: 'the
sentence says he is to be burnt _at a slow fire_.' This was a cruel
prospect, still he uttered none but words of peace. He knew that to
believe and to suffer was the life of a Christian; but he believed that
the grace of suffering was still more excellent than the grace of faith.
The enemies of the Reformation, who surrounded the burning pile,
listened to the martyr with surprise and respect. The evangelicals were
deeply moved, and exclaimed: 'Oh! how great is the constancy of this
witness to the Son of God, both in his life and in his death!'[238]

The next day it was the turn of Du Bourg, the tradesman of the Rue St.
Denis. The wealth he had enjoyed during his life, the tears of his wife,
the solicitations of his friends, had been ineffectual to save him. He
was a man of decided character: when he had posted up the placard, he
had done so boldly, although he knew that the act might cost him his
life, and he stepped into the tumbril with the same courage. When he
arrived in front of Notre Dame, he was made to alight; a taper was put
into his hand and a cord round his neck, and he was then taken in front
of the fountain of the Innocents, in the Rue St. Denis, quite near his
house—he might have been seen from the windows—after which his hand was
cut off. The hand that had fixed up the terrible protest against Rome
fell to the ground, but the man stood firm, believing that 'if those who
do battle under earthly captains push forward unto the death, although
they know not what will be the issue, much more ought Christians who are
sure of victory to fight until the end.' Du Bourg was taken to the
Halles and there burnt alive.[239]

[Sidenote: POILLE's SUFFERINGS AND COURAGE.]

On the 18th it was Poille's turn. That old disciple of Briçonnet's
showed as much firmness as his master had shown weakness. The mournful
procession took its way towards the Faubourg St. Antoine, and halted
before the church of St. Catherine: it was here the stake had been
prepared for the edification of the believers of that district. Poille
got down from the cart, his features indicating peace and joy; in the
midst of the guard and of the surrounding crowd, he thought only of his
Saviour and his crown. 'My Lord Jesus Christ,' he said, 'reigns in
heaven, and I am ready to fight for him on earth unto the last drop of
blood.' This confession of the truth at the moment of punishment,
exasperated the executioners. 'Wait a bit,' they said, 'we will stop
your prating.' They sprang upon him, opened his mouth, caught hold of
his tongue and bored a hole through it; they then, with refined cruelty,
made a slit in his cheek, through which they drew the tongue, and
fastened it with an iron pin.[240] Some cries were heard from the crowd
at this horrible spectacle: they proceeded from the humble christians
who had come to help the poor bricklayer with their compassionate looks.
Poille spoke no more, but his eyes still announced the peace which he
enjoyed. He was burnt alive.

The punishments followed one another rapidly; many other sentences had
been delivered. On the 19th November, a printer who had reprinted
Luther's works, and a bookseller who had sold them, were taken together
to the Place Maubert. The poor creatures had probably only thought it a
good speculation; they were however burnt at the stake. On the 4th
December a young clerk underwent the same punishment in front of Notre
Dame. On the following day, a young illuminator, a native of Compiègne,
who worked in a shop near the Pont St. Michel, died on the pile
constructed at the foot of that bridge. Sometimes it was deemed
sufficient 'to flog the accused naked,' to confiscate their property,
and to banish them.[241]

[Sidenote: MORE FUGITIVES.]

The terror was universal. All who had kept up any relations with the
victims, or had occasionally frequented the meetings, were uneasy and
troubled. There was great agitation in the evangelical houses: flight
seemed the only refuge, and many made preparations for their departure.

Although we have spoken of the evangelical christians, we have not named
them all. There were some whose profession, without being as public as
that of Du Bourg, De la Forge, and Milon, was yet quite as sincere; many
of them made themselves known at this time. Of this number were several
nobles: the Seigneur of Roygnac and his wife, the Sieur of Roberval,
lieutenant to the marshal of La Marche; the Seigneur of Fleuri in
Brière, the Damoiselle Bayard, widow of Councillor Porte—all took the
road of exile deeply sorrowing.[242] Trouble and alarm had penetrated
even into the offices of the State: many government officers, Elouin du
Lin, receiver to the parliament of Rouen, and William Gay, receiver of
Vernay, being forced to choose between their livings and their
consciences, abandoned their posts and fled. Among the fugitives were
many who would not have been looked for among the converted. Master
Pierre Duval, treasurer of the privy purse, touched by grace divine in
the midst of the revels which came under his management, and his
secretary, René, also a convert, resolved to sacrifice those allurements
of the world, which vanish with life, and fly from the terrible wrath of
their master. Another Duval (John), probably of the same family as
Pierre, keeper of the lodge in the forest of Boulogne, which served as a
hunting rendezvous for the court, had been reached by the Word of God in
the midst of his stags and falcons, just as his cook, William Deschamps,
had been. In like manner, the Gospel had entered the Hôtel des Finances:
two clerks of the Treasury had begun to seek for the _treasure in
heaven_; their names were Claude Berberin and Leon Jamet, of Sansay in
Poitou. All these men disappeared suddenly; some lay hid in remote
villages where they had friends; some went to Basle, others to
Strasburg. Jamet, a friend of Clement Marot (who has addressed to him
four of those burlesque epistles known as _coq-à-l'âne_, and then in
great vogue), went to Italy, and took refuge at the court of the Duchess
René of Ferrara, who made him her secretary; and Clement himself, who
had already had more than one encounter with the law, for his hatred of
all constraint and not for his faith, got frightened also, and
accompanied his friend beyond the Alps.

Side by side with these noblemen and servants of the king were found
more lowly men on every road in France. The trades connected with
typography (printers, booksellers, and binders) formed the most numerous
contingent in these bands of fugitives. The Reformation had gained many
followers among the masters and their workmen, and it was sufficient to
have printed, bound, or sold any of Luther's works, to be burnt alive.
Master Simon Dubois, John Nicole, the Balafré (the surname alone has
come down to us)—all of them printers, were in flight. Andrew Vincard,
the bookseller; Cholin and Jerome Denis, master-binders; and one Barbe
d'Orge, furbisher of books to the court, had disappeared. Master
goldsmiths, engravers; John Le Feuvre, a cutter of block-books (he may
perhaps have cut certain designs representing Christ and Antichrist,
which had been distributed along with the placards); a cooper, a
carpenter, a shoemaker; Girard Lenet, a painter; John Pinot, who kept an
inn, called the _Key_, on the Grève, notorious for lodging Lutherans;
the sister of the paralytic Milon, who could not bear to remain in the
city where her brother had been burnt—all these were flying far from
Paris.[243]

Dauphiny was the province of France which had contributed most to the
evangelical brotherhood of Paris. Master Thomas Berberin, Pasqualis,
François, Gaspard Charnel, and a young friar named Loys de Laval, were
all from Dauphiny, and returned hastily to their picturesque home.

[Sidenote: QUALITY OF THE FUGITIVES.]

Several other fugitives were monks: there were brother Gratian and
brother Richard, both Augustines; brother Nicholas Marcel, a Celestine;
the precentor Jehannet, surnamed _the preacher_; and Master John le
Rentif, a secular priest, popularly known as the _prêcheur de
bracque_,[244] so called, probably, because having thrown off his
sacerdotal gown, he preached in breeches. In this fugitive flock there
was one black sheep, the famous doctor of divinity, Peter Caroli. The
Sorbonne had stopped his lectures at the college of Cambray for having
said: 'Nothing keeps us more from the knowledge of God than images; and
it is better to give sixpence to the poor than to a priest for a mass.'
He left for Switzerland, where his presence was not very highly
appreciated. 'At that time also went out Caroli,' says Beza, 'carrying
with him the same spirit of ambition, of contradiction, and of lewdness;
a man whom the spirit of God had not sent, but whom Satan had brought to
hinder the Lord's work.'

The colleges, also, where the evangelical light was beginning to
illuminate some of the masters and pupils, supplied several fugitives.
Professors on whom the severity of parliament would have fallen, rose
up, bade farewell to their pupils, sorrowfully went out of their
studies, and disappeared. Master John Renault, principal of a college at
Tournay; Master Mederic Sevin; Master Mathurin Cordier, Calvin's mentor
and friend, had quitted Paris in haste, without taking leave of their
colleagues. All classes of society had furnished representatives to that
body which was hurrying from the capital along every road. These noble
Christians were often treated ignominiously in their flight: many had
pity on them, but others insulted them. They were sometimes obliged to
hide themselves in stables or in the woods; worn out by poverty and
hunger, clothed in 'coarse and dirty garments,' the better to elude
their enemies; but the peace of faith consoled them; they had been
unwilling to deny Christ; they had preferred, as Calvin says, to
renounce the life of this world to live for ever in heaven, and the hope
of a glorious resurrection prevented them from fainting.[245]

Margaret shed many tears in secret, and her silent sorrow spoke
eloquently to her brother. Presently she risked a few prayers in behalf
of her friends, Roussel, Courault, and Berthaud. The king was still
irritated against them; but the love he felt for his sister prevailed.
He ordered the three doctors to be taken out of prison and put in a
convent: the dungeon was changed to a cell, which was some slight
relief; and a sharp reprimand was given to each of them. Roussel
declared that he had no desire to break with the Church, and retired to
his abbey at Clairac.[246] The feeble Berthaud, whom the punishments had
frightened, resumed his monastic dress without any reserve, and died in
the cloister; but the aged and intrepid Courault remained firm. In vain
did the king send him back to the convent; in vain was the monk's frock
put on him, and a chaplet in his hands; he kept silent, but at the first
opportunity, some days only after he had been sent to the cloister, he
escaped, and, although almost blind, took the road which Farel and
Calvin had already trodden, and reached Basle.

[Sidenote: THE KING URGED TO PERSECUTE.]

This pardon, almost a disgrace to the king who granted it, was the only
and the last expression of Francis's pity; after having given way to his
sister, he gave way to the courtiers, the cardinals, the Sorbonne, and
parliament. The king's indulgence to the three doctors served but to
hasten the terrible persecutions that were about to begin in France. The
people, especially at Paris, ignorant and superstitious, and not
imagining there could be any other religion than that which they had
been taught, were astonished, disturbed, and uneasy at seeing the great
number of men and women won to the Gospel; they were even touched by the
serenity of the martyrs. The chiefs of the ultramontane party, alarmed
at the agitation which was gradually spreading all over the capital, and
desirous of strengthening the faith of the masses, began to solicit the
king very earnestly. They reminded him of the paper against the mass,
and called for severer punishments and more striking satisfaction; they
represented to him that 'the inhabitants of Paris were much disturbed by
the multitude of those who had gone astray from the faith.'[247] They
seemed to see the waves of Luther's doctrine impetuously advancing from
Germany, and on the point of breaking over France. At all risks a dyke
must be raised up sufficient to stop them. 'Sire,' they said, 'transmit
faithfully to your successors that glorious title of eldest son of the
Church which you have received from your forefathers.... You know how
greedy the French mind is for novelties,[248] and where may that lead
us.... Give a public proof of your attachment to the faith.' Francis had
not forgotten the placard fastened by night to the door of his chamber,
and that evangelical remonstrance seemed in is eyes a scandalous libel
aimed at his majesty. Let there be more burnings then.... But it is
desirable that they should be accompanied with unusual pomp. By a royal
law and constitution, it was ordered that they should pray to the
Almighty for the destruction of heresy, and to that end there should be
a solemn procession and an expiatory sacrifice. Francis intended to
crown it with acts of barbarity.

All Paris was astir: the streets were hung with drapery,
_reposoirs_[249] were erected, the most magnificent dresses were
preparing in the palace, and the victims in the dungeons were counted.
Francis had many motives for giving a grand spectacle and accompanying
it with bloody interludes: public policy was not without a share in
them. He wished to silence the evil tongues that were raving about his
friendly relations with Henry VIII. and the good grace with which he had
received the ambassador from the Grand Turk; he wished to draw down the
blessings of heaven upon his arms; he wished to show that if he
protected sound learning, he despised fanatical writings, and detested
the anonymous libels circulated at the same time as the placards, the
_Seven Assaults_, the treatise _Against the pope's traffickers_, and a
host of others. But the wrath that had seized him at seeing the criminal
handbill on his own door, particularly called for a terrible revenge,
and that without delay.

The 21st January, 1535, arrived. Early in the morning a large crowd of
citizens and people from the surrounding country filled the streets;
even the roofs of the houses were covered with spectators. This curious
and agitated multitude still further augmented the general emotion: many
citizens of Paris had never seen anything like it before. 'There was not
the smallest piece of wood or stone, jutting from the walls, that was
not occupied, provided there was room on it for anybody, and the streets
seemed paved with human heads.' The innumerable concourse admired the
tapestry with which the houses were hung, the _reposoirs_, the pictures
filled with splendid mysteries. The people gathered particularly before
representations of the _Holy Host_, of the _Jew_ (probably the Wandering
Jew), 'and others of very great singularity.' Before the door of each
house was a lighted torch, 'to do reverence to the blessed sacrament and
the holy relics.'[250]

[Sidenote: THE PROCESSION OF RELICS.]

The procession began at six in the morning. First came all the crosses
and banners of the several parishes; then followed the citizens, two and
two, each with a torch, and the four mendicant orders, with the priests
and canons of the city. Never had so many relics been seen before. It
was not only living men who figured that day in the streets of the
capital to do honour to the mass; but there were St. Philip, St. Marcel,
St. Germain, St. Mery, St. Honoré, St. Landry, St. Opportuna, St.
Martin, St. Magloire, and many others, who, whole or in part, were
paraded before the people. The crowd regarded these ancient relics with
devout admiration: 'There's the body of the saint!... there are his
shoes and his breeches!'

Thus spoke the devout; but what effect did these superstitions produce
on enlightened men? What would Calvin, in particular, have said, that
great friend of the worship in spirit and in truth paid to God alone? He
had left Paris some months since; but had he been there still, at the
moment of the procession, at De la Forge's or any other house before
which it passed, what would have been his feelings? These we learn from
one of his writings, in which he treats of all the relics displayed at
this time before the Parisians. This is the proper moment for showing
what he thought of these pretended relics of saints. Irony is a weapon
to be sparingly used in religious matters; we find it employed, however,
more than once in the Bible, for instance where Elijah speaks to the
prophets of Baal.[251] Calvin might therefore make use of it; but he was
not naturally given to humour, and a profound seriousness underlies his
irony.

The holy bodies followed each other along the streets of the capital.
The admiration of the citizens increased at every moment; they believed,
as each relic passed them, that they were looking at an object unique in
the world. 'The marvel is not so great,' said Calvin subsequently. 'We
have not only _one_ body of each of these saints, but we have _several_.
There is one body of St. Matthew at Rome, a second at Padua, and a third
at Treves. There is one of St. Lazarus at Marseille, another at Autun,
and a third at Avallon.'[252]

Soon the canons of the Holy Chapel came in sight, wearing their copes:
no church in Christendom possessed such treasures. 'Here is the Virgin's
milk!'—'Indeed,' said Calvin, 'there is not a petty town or wretched
convent where they do not show us this milk. If the Virgin had been
nursing all her life, she would hardly have been able to supply such an
abundance!'[253]

'There is our Lord's purple robe,' said the people; 'and the linen cloth
he tied round him at the Last Supper, and his swaddling clothes!'—'They
would do better,' said Calvin, 'to seek for Christ in his word, his
sacraments, and spiritual graces, than in his frock, little shirt, and
napkin.'[254]

'There is the crown of thorns!' was soon the cry. The sensation produced
by this venerated object was all the greater, and the struggles of the
people to get near it all the stronger, because it had never before been
seen in the processions.—'It is no rarity,' said Calvin. 'There are two
of these crowns at Rome, one at Vincennes, one at Bourges, one at
Besançon, one at Albi, one at Toulouse, one at Mâcon, one at Cléry, one
at St. Flour, one at St. Maximin, one at Noyon, one at St. Salvador in
Spain, one at St. Jago in Gallicia, and many others in other places
besides. To make all these crowns and gather all these thorns, they must
have cut down a whole hedge.'[255]

'Here comes the true cross!' Again there was a rushing and shouting,
citizens and strangers crushing one another,—'It is not the only one,'
said the reformer, 'there is no petty town or paltry church where they
do not show you pieces; and if all were collected together, there would
be a load for a great barge, and three hundred men could not carry
it.'[256]

Next appeared a silver-gilt shrine, which attracted universal attention:
it contained the relics of St. Genevieve, the patron saint of Paris; it
was the last anchor in the midst of the tempest, and was never brought
out except when France was in great peril. The butchers of Paris had
offered to carry this precious amulet, and had prepared themselves for
it by a fast of several days: they moved along barefoot and dressed in
long shirts. Around this somewhat ferocious group there was a continual
movement. 'There she is, the holy virgin of Nanterre,' was the cry. 'She
saved our forefathers from the fury of Attila, may she save us from
Luther's!' The people threw themselves upon the relic: one wished to
touch it with his cap, another with his handkerchief, a third with the
tip of his finger, some even more daring tried to kiss it. _Kiss the
Son, lest he be angry, and ye perish from the way, when his wrath is
kindled but a little._[257]

After the relics came a great number of cardinals, archbishops, and
bishops, with coped and mitred abbots. Then, under a magnificent canopy,
the four pillars of which were borne by the king's three sons and the
Duke of Vendome, first prince of the blood, came the host carried by the
bishop of Paris, and adorned as if it had been the Lord in person.

[Sidenote: PENITENCE OF THE KING.]

Then appeared Francis I., without parade, bareheaded and on foot,
holding a lighted taper in his hand,[258] like a penitent commissioned
to expiate the sacrilege of his people. At each _reposoir_ he gave his
taper to the Cardinal of Lorraine, joined his hands and knelt down,
humbling himself, not for his adulteries, his lies, or his false
oaths—of these he did not think-but for the audacity of those who did
not like the mass. He was followed by the queen, the princes and
princesses, the foreign ambassadors and all the court, the chancellor of
France, the council, the parliament in their scarlet robes, the
university, the other corporations, and the guard. All walked two and
two, 'exhibiting every mark of extraordinary piety.' Each man carried a
lighted torch in profound silence. Spiritual songs and funereal airs
alone interrupted from time to time the quiet of this gloomy and slow
procession.

In this way it traversed the different quarters of the capital, followed
by an immense crowd of people, and the inhabitants of each street,
standing in front of their houses, fell on their knees as the host went
by. The crowd was so great that bodies of archers, with white staves in
their hands, posted in every street, could scarcely keep open a passage
for the procession.[259]

At length they arrived at the church of Notre Dame; the sacrament was
placed on the altar; mass was sung by the Bishop of Paris, and all
imaginable homage was paid to the host in order to atone for the insults
offered to it by the placards. From Notre Dame, the king and the princes
returned to the bishop's palace.

There are days of evil omen in history. There is one especially that it
is sufficient to name to fill the mind with sorrow and mourning ...
fatal date which solemnly inaugurated in France the epoch of persecution
and martyrdom. On the _twenty-first of_ _January, 1535_, a king of
France, surrounded by his court and ministers, his parliament and
clergy, was about to devote to death with all due ceremony the humble
disciples of the Gospel. What the Valois began, the Bourbons continued,
and the most illustrious of them carried out on a vast scale the system
of galleys and of burning piles. Alas! there are dates which coincide in
a striking and pitiless manner. Four hundred and fifty-eight years later
there was another _twenty-first of January_. The simplest, the meekest,
the most generous of the Bourbons, condemned by misguided men to suffer
death, ascended the scaffold erected in a public place in Paris; he
received the death-blow on the _twenty-first of January_, 1793. We do
not presume to explain history; we do not say that the innocent
Louis XVI. paid the penalty of his predecessor's crimes, and that God
ordained the expiation commanded by Francis I. to be followed by
another. But the coincidence of these two dates startled us, and we
could not avoid stopping to contemplate them with a holy fear.

[237] _Journal d'un Bourgeois_, p. 414.

[238] Crespin, _Martyrol._ fol. 43.

[239] _Journal d'un Bourgeois_, p. 445.

[240] Crespin, _Martyrol._ fol. 113 verso.

[241] Crespin, _Martyrol._ fol. 113 verso.

[242] _Chronique du Roi François I._ p. 130. This manuscript, published
by M. Guiffrey in 1860, has described several new facts.

[243] _Chronique du Roi François I._ pp. 130-132.

[244] The breeches-preacher; comp. Italian _brache_.

[245] The list of those who were noted by the officers of justice as
having fled from Paris, of which the Bourgeois de Paris speaks in his
_Journal_, p. 446, is given more completely in the _Chronique de
François I._ pp. 130-132.

[246] Gerardus Rufus ... decreto regio absolutus.'—Cop to Bucer,
Strasburg MS.

[247] _Chronique du Roi François I._ p. 113.

[248] 'Quam avido novitatis ingenio essent Galli.'—Flor. Rémond,
_Hist. Hérés._ ii. p. 229.

[249] These are temporary altars set up in the streets, and at which the
procession of the _Corpus Christi_ halts 'to repose the Holy
Sacrament.'

[250] _Chronique du Roi François I._ p. 114.

[251] 1 Kings xviii. 27.

[252] Calvin, _Opusc. franç._ pp. 750-751.

[253] _Calvin, Opusc. franç._ p. 745.

[254] Ibid. pp. 727 and 736.

[255] Ibid. pp. 736, 742.

[256] Ibid. p. 734.

[257] Psalms ii. 12.

[258] Gamier, _Hist. de France_, xxiv. p. 556.

[259] 'Innumera denique plebis multitudine.'—Flor. Rémond, _Hist.
Hérés._ ii. p. 229. See also the _Journal d'un Bourgeois de Paris_;
Fontaine, _Hist. Catholique_; Maimbourg, _Hist. du Calvinisme_; and the
_Chronique de François I._




 CHAPTER XII.
 THE ELOQUENCE AND TORTURES OF FRANCIS I.
 (21ST JANUARY 1535.)


[Sidenote: DINNER AT THE BISHOP'S.]

[Sidenote: THE KING'S SPEECH.]

All was not over: they had had the comedy (as it appeared to some); they
were now to have the oratorical address, and then the tragedy. In order
to stifle the Reformation, something more was wanted than relics,
chanting, and images: blood must be shed. But first of all there should
be a speech from the throne. We do not doubt the sincerity of the king
in his oratorical movements. The personal offence that had been done to
him, and the obstacles raised by the placards to his political plans,
most assuredly engrossed him more than the cause of Catholicism; but
all this was mixed up in his mind, and he was eloquent. The
ambassadors,[260] the court, the parliament, the Bishop of Paris
attended by the most distinguished of his clergy, the rector of the
university with his principal doctors, the provost of the merchants, the
sheriffs, and a great number of the leading officers and merchants of
the city had received orders to assemble after dinner in the bishop's
great hall. They expected a speech from the king, an event of no
frequent occurrence in those times, which made them all the more
impatient. Ere long Francis I. entered: his countenance was serious,
sad, and even gloomy. His children, the other princes of the blood, the
cardinals and great officers of state surrounded the throne, whence the
king could be seen and heard by the whole assembly. He took his seat and
said:[261] 'Messieurs, be not surprised if you do not see in my face
that look which is usual to me, and that joy which animates me whenever
I meet you. Do not marvel if the tricks of eloquence are foreign to my
speech. I do not come to talk to you of myself; we have to treat this
day of an offence done to the King of kings. It is proper that I should
assume another style and language, another look and countenance, for I
do not speak to you as a king and a master speaks to his subjects and
his servants, but as being a subject and servant myself, and addressing
those who are fellow-servants with me of our common King, of the Master
of masters, who is God Almighty. What honour, what reverence, what
obedience do we not owe to that great King!... What obligations does not
this kingdom, more than any other, owe to Him, seeing that for thirteen
or fourteen hundred years He has maintained it in peace and tranquillity
with its friends, and in victory against its enemies! And if, sometimes,
for sins committed against His divine goodness, He has wished to visit
us with punishment in temporal things, He has done it with so little
severity, that He has never exceeded the chastisement which a kind and
gracious father may use towards the faults of a humble and obedient son.
But as for spiritual things, which touch the Holy Catholic faith, God
has never forsaken France so far as to let her stray ever so little from
it; and He has shown her this favour, that, by common accord, she has
enjoyed the privilege of being the only power that has never nurtured
monsters, and which, above all others, bears the name and title of Most
Christian.... So much the more ought we to feel grief and regret in our
hearts, that there should be at this time in France men so wicked and
wretched as to desire to soil that noble name,—men who have disseminated
damnable opinions, who have not only assaulted the things which our
great King desires to be honoured, and acted so evilly that they do not
leave to others the power of doing worse, but have all at once attacked
Him in the holy sacrament of the altar. People of low condition, and
less learning, wicked blasphemers, have used with regard to that
sacrament, terms rejected and abhorred by every other nation. So that
our realm, and even this good city of Paris, which from the time when
letters were transported hither from Athens, has always shone in sound
and holy learning, might remain scandalised, and its light be
obscured.... Wherefore we have commanded that severe punishment be
inflicted on the delinquents, in order that they may be an example to
others, and prevent them from falling into the like damnable opinions.
And we entreat the misguided ones to return into the path of the Holy
Catholic faith, in which I, who am their king, with the spiritual
prelates and temporal princes, persevere.... Oh! the crime, the
blasphemy, the day of sorrow and disgrace! Why did it ever dawn upon
us?'

'There were few of all the company,' says the chronicle, 'from whose
eyes the king did not draw tears.' After a few minutes' silence,
interrupted by the exclamations and sighs of the assembly, the king
resumed: 'It is at least a consolation that you share my sorrow. What a
disgrace it will be if we do not extirpate these wicked creatures!...
For this reason I have summoned you to beg you to put out of your hearts
all opinions that may mislead you; to instruct your children and your
servants in the Christian doctrine of the Catholic faith; and if you
know any person infected by this perverse sect, be he your parent,
brother, cousin, or connection, give information against him. By
concealing his misdeeds, you will be partakers of that pestilent
faction.' The assembly gave numerous signs of assent; the king saw the
devotion, zeal, and affection visible in their faces. 'I give thanks to
God,' he resumed, 'that the greatest, the most learned, and undoubtedly
the majority of my subjects, and especially in this good city of Paris,
are full of zeal for the Catholic religion.' Then, says the chronicle,
you might have seen the faces of the spectators change in appearance,
and give signs of joy; acclamations prevented the sighs, and sighs
choked the acclamations. 'I warn you,' continued the king, 'that I will
have the said errors expelled and driven from my kingdom, and will
excuse no one.' Then he exclaimed, says our historian, with extreme
anger: 'As true, Messieurs, as I am your king, if I knew one of my own
limbs spotted or infected with this detestable rottenness, I would give
it you to cut off.... And further, if I saw one of my children defiled
by it, I would not spare him.... I would deliver him up myself, and
would sacrifice him to God.'[262]

[Sidenote: EFFECTS OF THE ROYAL RHETORIC.]

At these words the king stopped: he was agitated and wept. The
spectators, affected by the sight of this new Abraham, burst into tears.
After the interruption necessarily occasioned by this moving scene, Du
Bellay, bishop of Paris, and John Tronson, Lord of Couldray on the Seine
and prevost of the merchants, approached, and kneeling before the king,
thanked him for his zeal—the first in the name of the clergy, the other
on behalf of the citizens—and swore to make war against heresy.
Thereupon all the spectators exclaimed, with voices broken by sobbing:
'We will live and die for the Catholic religion.' The author of the
_Chronicle of Francis I._, who was probably present in the assembly,
dwells upon the emotion caused by the monarch's address: 'We may clearly
show by this,' he says, 'that the speech of an eloquent and powerful man
may lead men's hearts at his will; for there was not a man in all the
company, whether native or foreigner, who did not more than once change
countenance, according to the different affections the words
expressed.'[263]

Other emotions, those of anguish and terror, were next to be aroused.
After displaying his eloquence, the king was about to display his
cruelty. 'Francis, always in extremes,' says a very catholic
historian,[264] 'did not disdain to pollute his eyes with a spectacle
full of barbarity and horror.' On the road between St. Genevieve and the
Louvre, two scaffolds had been prepared, one at the Marksman's Cross in
the Rue St. Honoré, and the other at the Halles. Some of the most
excellent men that France possessed were about to be burnt after
suffering atrocious tortures. Altars, galleries, and inscriptions had
been placed on the bridges and in the streets. On the bridge of Notre
Dame, around a fountain, surmounted by a large crucifix, these lines
were inscribed:

  Ipsi peribunt, tu autem permanebis. (Ps. cii.)
  Inimicos ejus induam confusione. (Ps. cxxxii.)
  Videbunt in quem transfixerunt. (John xix.)[265]

A little farther on stood an altar with an invocation to the Virgin and
all the saints to give help, strength, and grace against the attacks of
the enemies of the host. In other places were four stanzas in French,
each of which ended with this line:

  France florit sur toutes nations.[266]

The king with his family, the nobles, and the rest of the procession,
having resumed his march, made his first halt at the Marksman's Cross.
Morin, the cruel lieutenant-criminal, then brought forward three
evangelical christians destined to be burnt 'to appease the wrath of
God.' They were the excellent Valeton, receiver of Nantes; Master
Nicholas, clerk to the registrar of the Châtelet, and another.[267] The
people were so excited by the procession, and by the cries raised in
every quarter, and even by the throne, against the reformers, that, when
the martyrs appeared, they rushed furiously upon them to snatch them
from the hangman's hands, and tear them to pieces. The guard drove them
back, and the disciples of the Gospel were preserved for a more
frightful death.

[Sidenote: THE STRAPPADO.]

The first who came forward was that brave man and respectable Christian,
Nicholas Valeton, who had always 'kept good company.' The king had been
struck with the circumstance of the hiding of his books, and ordered
them to be burnt with him. Valeton stood in front of the pile. With a
sort of refined cruelty, the wood with which he was to be burnt had been
taken from his own house; but this kind of irony did not affect him.
Another object attracted his attention: it was a kind of gallows, formed
of two poles, one fixed firmly in the ground, the other fastened to it
cross-wise, one end of which was raised at will by means of a cord
fastened to the other. The receiver looked calmly at this instrument of
punishment, to which they were about to fasten him to make him soar into
the air. Merely to burn these humble Christians would have been too
simple: the employment of the _strappado_ was to provide the people with
a more varied and more diverting spectacle. The priests knowing that
Valeton was a man of credit, and that he was moreover rather a novice in
heresy, desired to gain him: they approached him and said: 'We have the
universal Church with us, out of it there is no salvation; return to it,
your faith is destroying you.' This faithful Christian replied: 'I only
believe in what the prophets and the apostles formerly preached, and
what all the company of saints believed.' The attacks were renewed in
vain. 'My faith has a confidence in God,' he said, 'which will resist
all the powers of hell.' The good people who were scattered among the
crowd admired his firmness,[268] and the thought that he left a bereaved
wife behind him touched many a heart.

The punishment began. The hangman bound his hands which he fastened to
the end of the strappado; the sufferer was then raised in the air, his
arms alone sustaining the whole weight of his body. The pile over which
he was suspended was then set alight, and they proceeded to their cruel
sport. The executioners let the unhappy Valeton fall plump into the
midst of the flames; then, reversing their movements, they raised the
martyr into the air only to let him fall again into the fire.[269] 'Make
the wretches feel that, they are dying,' a cruel pagan emperor had said;
a king of France carried out this order, and enjoyed it with all his
court, somewhat as savages do when they burn their prisoners. After
several turns at this atrocious sport had amused the king, the priests,
the nobles, and the people, the flames caught hold of the martyr from
his feet to the cord that bound his hands, the knot was burnt, and this
upright witness to Christ fell into the fire where his body was reduced
to ashes. This inhuman punishment was next applied by order of the _most
christian_ king to the two other martyrs. When the torture had lasted
long enough, the executioner cut the rope, if the fire had not consumed
it, in order that the victim might fall at last into the flames.[270]

[Sidenote: TORTURES AT THE HALLES.]

Francis I. and his courtiers were not yet satisfied. 'To the Halles! to
the Halles!' was the cry, and a mass of curious people rushed thither,
knowing that the executioners had prepared a second entertainment of a
similar kind. The king and his train had scarcely arrived, when they
began to set the frightful strappado in motion. A man known and highly
esteemed throughout the quarter, a rich fruit-merchant of the Halles,
had been fastened to it, and after him two other evangelical Christians
were served in the same way. Francis and his court witnessed the
convulsions of the sufferers and could smell the stench of their burning
flesh. There were, no doubt, among the spectators many individuals
feeling for the sufferings of others, but, surprising to say, there was
not a sign of compassion: the best of them suppressed the most
legitimate emotions. It was everybody's duty to think that, as a jesuit
says, 'the king wished to draw down the blessing of heaven, by giving
this signal example of piety and zeal.'[271]

Francis returned satisfied to the Louvre: the courtiers around him
declared that the triumph of holy Church was for ever secured in the
kingdom of France. But the people went still farther; they displayed a
cruel joy; the deaths of the heretics had furnished them with an unknown
enjoyment.... It was long before the thirst for blood then awakened in
them was assuaged. They had just played the first act of a drama which
was to be followed by others bloodier still, the most notorious of which
were the massacres of St. Bartholomew, and, with a change of victims,
the massacres of September 1792. Certain enraptured clerks thought that
Francis I. surpassed Charles V., and exclaimed:

  'Cæsar edit edicta, Rex edit supplicia.[272]

Francis I. and his officers felt, however, some little vexation: certain
victims were wanting. They sought everywhere for nobles, professors,
priests, and industrials suspected of protestantism, whom they could not
find. A few days after these executions, on the 25th January, the sound
of the trumpet was heard in all the cross-ways, and the common crier
'cited seventy-three Lutherans to appear in person. In default thereof,
they were declared to be banished from the kingdom of France, their
goods confiscated, and themselves condemned to be burnt.' These were the
fugitives whom we have already pointed out. None of them appeared to the
summons; but one of them wrote to the king:[273]

  They call me Lutheran—a name
  I have no right to bear.
  Luther for me did not come down from heaven;
  For me no Luther hung upon the cross
  For all my sins; nor was I in his name
  Baptised, but in the name of Him alone
  To whom th' eternal Father grants whate'er we ask—
  The only name in heaven by which the world,
  This wicked world, salvation can attain.

But the king was far from pardoning. Four days after this publication
(29th January) he issued an edict, 'for the extirpation of the Lutheran
sect which has swarmed and is still swarming in the realm, with orders
to denounce its followers.'[274] At the same time he addressed a
circular letter to all the parliaments, enjoining them to give 'aid and
prisons' in order that the heresy should be promptly extirpated.[275]
Lastly, the 'father of letters' issued an ordinance declaring the
_abolition of printing_ all over France under pain of the gallows.[276]
This savage edict was not carried out: it is, however, an index of the
spirit by which the enemies of the Reformation were animated.

[Sidenote: PROCLAMATIONS AND PUNISHMENTS.]

Francis I., after having thus made some excursions into the sphere of
Charles V.—the _proclamations_, returned into his own—the _punishments_.
Du Bellay interceded for the German protestants, and the king sent them
back to their own country; but, feeling his hands free as regarded his
own subjects, he sent fresh victims to the stake. On the 16th February,
Calvin's friend, the rich and pious trader, La Forge, about sixty years
of age, was dragged in a tumbril to the cemetery of St. John. 'He is a
rich man,' said some compassionate spectators; 'a good man that has
given away much in alms.' It did not matter: they burnt him alive. Three
days later a goldsmith and a painter were mercifully (for Francis wished
to see the arts flourish) stripped and flogged, deprived of their goods,
and banished. Many Lutheran women were banished also. On the 26th
February, a young Italian, named Loys de Medicis, perished in the flames
at the end of St. Michael's bridge; and his wife 'died in her bed of
grief at such infamy.' Shortly afterwards it was the turn of a scholar,
a native of Grenoble, who had posted up some of the placards in the
night. On the 13th March, it was that of the chorister of the royal
chapel who in his rash zeal had fastened the protest to his Majesty's
door; he was burnt near the Louvre. On the 5th May, a _procureur_ and a
tailor were dragged on a hurdle to the porch of Notre Dame, whence they
were taken in a tumbril to the pig-market 'and there hanged in chains,'
which were not consumed so soon as ropes. The same day, a shoemaker of
Tournay, banished from that city because he belonged to the sect of
Luther, died in a similar way, 'without repenting.'

About the same time two journeymen, natives of Tours, and ribbon
weavers, arrived in Paris 'from Almayne,' bringing with them a Lutheran
book. 'Landlord,' said one of them imprudently, 'take care of this book
while we go into town, and do not show it to anybody.' The innkeeper
whose curiosity was thus aroused, turned the book round and round, tried
to read it, and at last, unable to hold out any longer, went and showed
it to a priest. The latter having opened it, exclaimed: 'It is a
damnable book!' The landlord informed against the travellers; Morin had
the two friends arrested ... their tongues were cut out, and they were
burnt 'alive and contumacious.'[277]

[Sidenote: LA GABORITE.]

Paris did not enjoy alone these cruel spectacles: piles were kindled in
many cities of France. A poor girl, Mary Becaudelle, surnamed the
Gaborite, had just returned to Essarts in Vendée, her native place,
after being in service at Rochelle with a master who had taught her the
Gospel. A grey-friar happened to be preaching in her little town and she
went to hear him. After the sermon, she said to him: 'Father, you do not
preach the Word of God,' and pointed it out to him. Ashamed at being
taken to task by a woman, the friar, who was alone, resolved to get
himself reprimanded a second time, but before witnesses. The plot was
arranged. The friar having insulted the doctrine of grace, the terrified
Gaborite exclaimed: 'If you insult the Gospel, the wrath of God will be
against you.' She was condemned to the stake shortly after, and endured
her punishment with such patience as to cause great admiration.'[278]

About the same time two or three men were keeping watch, during the
night, in the chapel of the Holy Candle, at Arras in Artois. There was a
candle there, to which the devout used to sing hymns, because the
priests told them that it had been sent from heaven and was never
consumed. 'That is what we will see,' said these evangelicals: Nicholas,
surnamed the _Penman_, 'a man of good sense and well taught in holy
learning,' Jean de Pois and Stephen Bourlet, 'who had both received much
instruction from Nicholas.' One day they took their station round the
candle, determined not to fall asleep. The substitution generally
effected by the adepts at night, while the doors were closed, not having
been made, on account of these inquisitive men, the perpetual candle
came to an end and went out, like any other candle. Then Nicholas and
his friends calling in 'the poor idolaters,' showed them that there was
nothing left of their heaven-descended relic but the end of a burnt-out
wick. 'As the reward of their discovery these three Christians received
the crown of martyrdom together.'[279]

The persecution spared no one. It was often sufficient for an enemy to
accuse a person of having a liking for the Gospel, when immediately the
police laid their hands on him. This was not the king's intention: he
had ordered that the judges should inquire whether 'enmity, pique, or
revenge gave rise to false accusations;' but the magistrates were not so
scrupulous. The terror was universal. 'One sees nothing in Paris,' said
a catholic eye-witness, 'but gibbets set up in various places, which
surely terrify the people of the said Paris, and those of other places
who also see gallowses and executions.'[280] Mezeray, while describing
these events, says: 'But for ten that were put to death, a hundred
others sprang up from their ashes.'[281]

The enemies of the Reformation, feeling that the moment was decisive,
redoubled their efforts to destroy it. The French, save a certain
numerous class submissive to the clergy, were disposed to receive it.
They went to church, indeed, but the majority of the population would
willingly have embraced a religion in which the priest did not interpose
between man and God. 'Alas!' said the more fervent, 'if the king does
not interfere to save the Church, all the warmth of the French for the
catholic religion will soon be turned into ice.'[282]

[Sidenote: THE KING'S MOTIVES.]

The king had a special motive in supporting popery. A striking
transformation was going on in France as well as in other parts of
Europe; limited monarchy was changing into absolute monarchy. Francis I.
thought that men who set God above the king, and died rather than invert
the order of these two powers, were very dangerous to despotism, and he
swore that, though he courted this religion without his kingdom, he
would crush it within. Alas! the task was but too easy. Many were only
superficially gained. Nobles without high-mindedness or independence;
men of letters who jeered at obscurantism, but who had not tasted the
Gospel; ignorant and timid crowds turned their backs upon the Word of
God when the flames of the burning piles rose into the air.

[Sidenote: STURM'S LETTER TO MELANCHTHON.]

Terror spread through the ranks of the friends of the Reformation.
Sturm, who was deeply engaged with literature and philosophy,
broken-hearted at the sight of all these woes, abandoned his labours.
Many of the martyrs were his friends, and had eaten at his table.
Dejected, disturbed in the midst of the lessons he gave at the Royal
College (which the celebrated Ramus attended), having constantly before
his eyes the murderous flames which had reduced to ashes those whom he
loved, it seemed to him that barbarism was about to extinguish the torch
of learning, and once more overrun society, hardly awakened from its
long sleep. He condemned the placards; in his opinion, the Reformation
should make its way by a learned exposition of its doctrines, and not by
attacking popular superstitions; but at the sight of the punishments, he
thought only of the victims. He turned towards Germany where he had so
many friends, where there was possibly less decision than in France, but
a deeper and more inward faith; he thought of Melanchthon, sat down at
his desk, and as if he were in the presence of that tender-hearted man,
poured all his sorrows into his bosom. 'If the letters which I have
sometimes written you on the affairs of this country have been agreeable
to you,' he said, 'if you then desired that all should go well for good
men,—oh! what uneasiness, what anxiety, must not your heart feel in this
hour of furious tempests and extreme danger![283] We were in the best,
the finest position, thanks to wise men; and now behold us, through the
advice of unskilful men, fallen into the greatest calamity and supreme
misery. I wrote you last year that everything was going on well, and
what hopes we entertained from the king's equity. We congratulated one
another; but alas! extravagant men have deprived us of those propitious
times. One night in the month of October, in a few moments, all over
France, and in every corner, they posted with their own hands a placard
concerning the ecclesiastical orders, the mass, and the eucharist—one
would think they were rehearsing a tragedy[284]—they carried their
audacity so far as to fasten one even on the door of the king's
apartments, wishing by this means, as it would seem, to cause certain
and atrocious dangers. Since that rash act, everything has been changed;
the people are troubled, the thoughts of many are filled with alarm, the
magistrates are irritated, the king is excited, and frightful trials are
going on. It must be acknowledged that these imprudent men, if they were
not the cause, were at least the occasion of this. Only, if it were
possible for the judges to preserve a just mean! Some, having been
seized, have already undergone their punishment; others, promptly
providing for their safety, have fled; innocent people have suffered the
chastisement of the guilty. Informers show themselves publicly; any one
may be both accuser and witness.[285] These are not idle rumours that I
write to you, Melanchthon; be assured that I do not tell you all, and
that in what I write I do not employ the strong terms that the terrible
state of our affairs would require. Already eighteen disciples of the
Gospel have been burnt, and the same danger threatens a still greater
number. Every day the danger spreads wider and wider.[286] There is not
a good man who does not fear the calumnies of informers, and is not
consumed with grief at the sight of these horrible doings. Our
adversaries reign, and with all the more authority, that they appear to
be fighting in a just cause, and to quell sedition. In the midst of
these great and numerous evils there is only one hope left—that the
people are beginning to be disgusted with such cruel persecutions, and
that the king blushes at last at having thirsted for the blood of these
unfortunate men. The persecutors are instigated by violent hatred and
not by justice. If the king could but know what kind of spirit animates
these bloodthirsty men, he would no doubt take better advice. And yet we
do not despair. God reigns, he will scatter all these tempests, he will
show us the port where we can take refuge, he will give good men an
asylum _where they will dare speak their thoughts freely_.'[287]

[Sidenote: LUTHER'S LETTER.]

This letter to Melanchthon is important in the history of the
Reformation. Liberty of speech and of religious action is what
protestantism claimed in France; and in claiming these liberties for
itself, it secured them for all. We may imagine what an impression this
letter produced at Wittemberg. Melanchthon, who received it, and even
Luther himself, blamed a certain excess of vivacity in the French
reformers; but, like Sturm, they recognised in them disciples of the
Divine Word. A few days after, Luther writing to his friend Link,
complained of the evil times in which they lived, and especially of the
kings. 'With the exception of our prince (the Elector of Saxony),' he
said, 'there is not one whom I do not suspect. You may understand by
this language how little love and zeal for the Word of God there is in
this world. For the present, sing, I pray you, this psalm: _Expectans
expectavi Dominum_, I waited patiently for the Lord. It is through glory
and disgrace, through stumblings and strayings, through the righteous
and the wicked, through devils and angels, that we come to Him who alone
is good, alone is without evil.[288] Therefore, dear brother, I conjure
you lend no ear to any discourse, and have no other conversation than
what you have with _Him_. There are many excellent people among men, but
alas! they have less patience than stern justice. God help us!... He
permits the devil to be strong, and how weak he makes us! God puts us to
the proof. To trust in a man, were he even a prince, is not conformable
with piety; but to fear a man is shameful and even impious in a
Christian. May Christ, our life, our salvation, and our glory, be with
you and all yours!' Luther did not name Francis I. in this letter, but
it is well known that of all princes the king of France was the one in
whom he had the least hope. He was not mistaken.

From this time Francis I. no longer showed the same favour to learning,
and especially to evangelical learning. The excommunication launched
against Henry VIII., the schism which followed, the hope of seeing
Paul III. embroiled with Charles V., and other motives besides, made him
incline once more towards Rome. But the placards were the principal
cause of this change. His wrath was unappeasable; he was determined to
abolish these new doctrines which were paraded even on the gate of his
palace. His indignation broke out in the midst of his courtiers and
cardinals, bishops and councillors of parliament. Nay more, he laid it
even before the protestant princes of Germany. Writing to them on the
15th February, he said: 'The enemy of truth has stirred up certain
people who are not fools but madmen, and who have incurred the guilt of
sedition and other antichristian actions. I am determined to crush these
new doctrines; and to check this disease, which leads to frightful
revolts, from spreading further. No one has been spared whatever his
country or his rank.'[289]

Such were the king's intentions. Protestantism, and with it liberty,
perished in France, but God was mighty to raise them up again.

[260] The _Chronique de François I._ p. 121, mentions among the
ambassadors those of the emperor, of the King of England, of Venice, and
of other princes, lordships, cities, marquises, counts, and barons of
Germany, Italy, and elsewhere.

[261] This speech of which Theodore Beza and Mezeray speak in their
histories is found in the _Chronique de François I._, published by
Guiffrey in 1860, and the Registers of the Hôtel de Ville quite bear out
the _Chronique_.

[262] _Chronique du Roi François I._ p. 125.

[263] Ibid. p. 126.

[264] Garnier, _Hist. de France_, xxiv. p. 540.

[265] 'They shall perish, but thou shalt endure.'—'His enemies will I
clothe with shame.'—'They shall look on him whom they pierced.'

[266] 'France flourishes above all nations.'

[267] _Journal d'un Bourgeois de Paris_, p. 447.

[268] Crespin, _Martyrol._ fol. 113 verso.

[269] 'Ad machinam alligati et in altum sublati, deinde in ignem e
sublimi dimissi, et rursum adducti.'—Sleidanus, fol. 136.

[270] 'Carnifice demum abscindente funem, in subjectam flammam
corruebant.—Sleidanus, fol. 136.

[271] L. P. Daniel, _Hist. de France_, v. p. 654.

[272] 'The Emperor issues edicts, the King punishes.'—Ribier, _Lettres
d'Etat_, i. p. 358.

[273] Clement Marot, _Epître au Roi_.

[274] Isambert, _Anciennes Lois_, xii. p. 402.

[275] This circular will be found in the _Bulletin de la Société de
l'Histoire du Protestantisme français_, i. p. 328.

[276] Sismondi, _Hist. des Français_, xvi. p. 455. See also
Garnier, Rœderer, &c.

[277] _Journal d'un Bourgeois de Paris_, p. 451.

[278] Crespin, _Martyrol._ fol. 114.

[279] Crespin, _Martyrol._ fol. 113 verso et fol. 114.

[280] _Chronique du Roi François I._ p. 129.

[281] Mezeray, _Hist. de France_, ad ann. 1535.

[282] 'Gallorum ardorem erga catholicam religionem in glaciem abiturum
fuisse.'—Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Hérés._ ii. p. 230.

[283] 'In turbulentissimis maximeque periculosis tempestatibus.'—_Corp.
Ref._ ii. p. 855.

[284] The meaning of the Latin is not very clear: 'Et tragicis
exclamationibus.'

[285] 'Cuilibet simul et testi et accusatori in hac causa esse
licet.'—_Corp. Ref._ ii. p. 856.

[286] 'Serpunt quotidie latius pericula.'—Ibid.

[287] 'Qui aliquando libere quod cogitant audebunt dicere.'—_Corp.
Ref._ ii. p. 857.

[288] 'Per gloriam et ignominiam ... per diabolos et angelos.'—Lutheri
_Epp._ iv. p. 603.

[289] Rex Galliæ ad principes protestantium. We have only the German
translation of this letter. _Corp. Ref._ ii. p. 834.




 CHAPTER XIII.
 CALVIN AT STRASBURG, WITH ERASMUS, AND AT BASLE.
 (SUMMER AND AUTUMN, 1534.)


While evangelical light seemed on the point of extinction in France, one
of her sons was going to kindle a torch on the banks of the Rhine, and
afterwards on those of the Rhone, which would spread its bright rays far
and wide. Calvin had arrived at Strasburg.

[Sidenote: CALVIN'S MISSION.]

He who was to be the true doctor of the Reformation, its great captain,
was then in search of knowledge and of arms in order to teach and to
fight: this, as we have said, was the principal motive that induced him
to leave France. Like all noble characters who have played an important
part in history, Calvin felt his vocation. He wished to labour at the
renewal of the Church; and in order to do this, he must interpret Holy
Scripture, and explain the body of Christian doctrine. Hitherto he had
preached the Gospel like an ordinary believer; he had sown the Word in a
few insulated fields—at Orleans, Bourges, Angoulême, Noyon, and Paris;
now (without his being conscious of it) a wider sphere was opening
before him; and he was going to learn the truth of Christ's declaration:
_the field is the world_. There was a void space in Christendom, and God
called him to fill it. He was to create the new, the living theology of
modern times. France, where scholasticism was the only theological
science, did not suffice him; he was going towards Germany and
Switzerland, where the love and study of holy learning had arisen with
power. He saw from afar the lights that sparkled on the banks of the
Rhine, and on the plains of Saxony; and, like a traveller who catches
sight of a beacon in the midst of the darkness, he hurried towards the
places whence those distant rays reached his eye. A child of light, he
was seeking the light.

[Sidenote: THE COLLEGE AND MATTHEW ZELL.]

The free city of Strasburg possessed an intelligent middle-class and
wise magistrates. The revival of learning had begun there in the
fifteenth century; shortly after Luther had published his theses at
Wittemberg, the echo of the great reformer's voice was heard in that
city of the Rhine. Elementary schools were immediately established;
monks who had left their convents, and priests who were disenchanted
from their ancient superstitions, aided by pious and devout artizans,
undertook the education of the children. A Latin college was founded in
1524, where the canons of St. Thomas and other learned Christians had
begun a superior kind of instruction. The new life then spreading
through the Church, circulated vigorously in Strasburg; it fermented in
a more especial manner in Capito, Bucer, and Hedio. They conversed
together, communicating to each other the faith by which they were
animated: it was the spring sap pushing forth blossoms and giving
promise of fruit. Capito eloquently expounded the books of the Old
Testament; Bucer explained those of the New with much wisdom; Hedio
taught history and theology; Caselius, Hebrew; and Herlin, the art of
speaking. Professor John Sturm, then at Paris, and the friend of
Melanchthon, was about to be put at the head of the educational work in
his native city.[290]

There was a pious man at Strasburg, whose house was known to all
Christian travellers, and especially to the exiles. He was Matthew Zell,
pastor of the church of St. Lawrence. When Calvin and Du Tillet arrived
in the capital of Alsace, they were in great distress, having been
robbed of their money as we have seen. In this imperial city with all
its beautiful buildings, over which soars the magnificent cathedral,
they knew not where to go. The name of Zell was familiar to Calvin, as
well as his generous hospitality; he knocked at his door, we are told,
and was cordially received. Calvin and Zell were very different
characters; but they appreciated each other, and when the reformer was
settled at Geneva, he did not neglect to salute Zell in his letters to
Bucer.[291] Zell was a man of practical and conciliatory spirit, and did
not trouble himself much with theological discussions; he cared only for
his dear parishioners, and was very popular. Bucer thought even too much
so. 'Matthew alone has the people with him,' he said.[292] To this day
his name is mentioned with affection in Alsace.

As early as 1521 he preached the Gospel at Strasburg, and with such
unction and zeal, that an immense crowd surrounded his pulpit. Being a
man of generous disposition, he boldly defended those who were called
heretics: 'Do you know why they are attacked?' he said, 'because their
enemies are afraid that the indulgences and purgatory which they condemn
will bring them in no more money.'[293] Prosecuted by his bishop in
1523, he defended himself with spirit,[294] and escaped with losing his
post of confessor to the prelate.

[Sidenote: THE PASTOR'S WIFE.]

Calvin and Du Tillet soon noticed his partner, Catherine Schulz,
daughter of a carpenter in the city, a clever, intelligent, active, firm
woman, who had managed to obtain the ascendant over everyone, and a
little too much so over her husband. The young reformer saw in her one
of the types of the Christian woman, who cumbereth herself, who
receiveth the prophets honourably, but who, while doing good, sometimes
values herself more highly than she does others.[295] Catherine's soul
was troubled for a long time; she doubted of her salvation. At last the
voice of Luther reached her, and brought her peace. 'He persuades me so
thoroughly of the ineffable goodness of Jesus Christ,' she exclaimed,
'that I feel as if I were dragged from the depths of hell, and
transported into the kingdom of heaven. Day and night I will now tread
the path of truth.'[296]

From that hour Catherine resolutely dedicated herself to the practice of
good works. The pastor of St. Lawrence often had a large number of
persecuted christians seated round his table, and kept them in his house
for many weeks. One night he received 150 pious men from a little town
of Brisgau, who, having left their homes in the middle of the night, had
arrived in great distress at Strasburg. Catherine found means to lodge
fourscore of them in the parsonage, and for a month had fifty or sixty
of them daily at her table. Even when her house was full, she displayed
the most unceasing activity abroad. Caring neither for dress nor worldly
recreations, the pastor's wife visited the houses of the poor, nursed
the sick, wrapped the dead in their grave-clothes, comforted the
prisoners, and organised collections in favour of the refugees. _She was
never weary in well-doing._

In the midst of her zeal, however, she took too much credit to herself.
One day, recounting her merits, she said: 'I have conscientiously
assisted my beloved Matthew in his ministry and in the management of his
house. I have loved the company of the learned. I have embraced the
interests of the Lord's Church. Hence all the pastors and a great number
of distinguished men testify their affection and respect for me.'
Catherine did not know all that these 'distinguished men' thought of
her; the colour would have mounted to her cheeks could she have seen a
certain letter from Bucer to Blaurer, of the 16th November 1533, in
which that celebrated Strasburg doctor complains of Zell's wife, 'who is
so over head and ears in love with herself;' or if that letter of the
3rd of February 1534 had been brought to her, in which her husband's
friend wrote of her: 'Catherine, like all of us, is too fond of
herself.'[297]

At the time of Calvin's arrival in Strasburg, Bucer was much tormented
by Catherine's spirit of domination; perhaps he should have understood
that her defects were but the exaggeration of her good qualities. He
complained of her influence over her husband: 'Matthew Zell is certainly
pious,' he said, 'but ... he is ruled by his wife.'[298] Another time he
said: 'He ought to preach faith more fully, more earnestly, but ... his
wife drives him to care for nothing but works.'[299] The zealous Bucer,
who was so often journeying to reconcile Christians and Churches, could
not endure that Zell should think only of his parish, should see nothing
but his dear Strasburg, and ascribed even that to Catherine. 'Oh,' said
he, 'if Matthew were but more zealous for the unity of the Church!' And
yet Bucer esteemed him highly, and called him 'a God-seeking man, and of
upright heart.' Zell and Catherine were in those Reformation times a
Christian pair, worthy to figure in history, notwithstanding their
failings. Perhaps, however, Calvin recollected Catherine's character
when he reckoned patience and gentleness among the foremost qualities he
should look for in a wife.[300]

Calvin already knew by reputation the eminent men who were living in
Strasburg. He was never tired of seeing and hearing them, both at their
own houses and at Matthew Zell's. He admired in Bucer, with whom he had
corresponded, and whom he afterwards called his father,[301] a noble
heart, a peaceful spirit, a penetrating mind, and an untiring activity.
Capito was not less attractive to him. Calvin knew that, disgusted with
the intrigues of the court, he had left the elector of Mentz, and in
1532 had gone to Strasburg in search of evangelical liberty, and from
that hour had watched with interest the movements of the Gospel in
France. He was, therefore, impatient to see a man who, by the extent of
his learning and the nobility of his character, held the first rank in
the learned city where he resided; and fortunately Capito, who went to
Wisbaden towards the end of August 1534, was still at Strasburg when the
reformer passed through it. All these doctors joyfully saw France
bringing her tribute at last to the work of Christian instruction. They
were struck with Calvin's seriousness, with the greatness of his
character, the depth of his thoughts, and the liveliness of his faith;
and the young doctor, for his part, drank in with delight that perfume
of learning and piety, which exhaled from the conversation and life of
these men of God.

[Sidenote: DEFICIENCIES IN THE THEOLOGIANS.]

One thing, however, checked him: in his opinion the Strasburg reformers
observed too strict a middle path, and sometimes sacrificed truth to
prudence. Calvin was troubled at this; by not breaking completely with
Rome, were they not preparing the way to return to it? He was all the
more alarmed, as the young canon of Angoulême had a great inclination
for this middle way. Calvin, who would have desired to put Du Tillet in
connection with decided reformers, saw the three doctors of Strasburg,
and especially Bucer, holding out their hands to Melanchthon to reunite
popery and the Reformation. Could he have led him into a snare?... 'I
find learning and piety in Bucer and Capito,' he said one day, 'but they
force me to desire in them firmness and constancy. We must be _liberal_,
no doubt, but not so as to spend the wealth of another. And what
precautions ought we not to take, when it is a question of spending
God's truth?... He did not give it us that we should contract it in any
way.'[302] True, these words are found in a document of later date; but
already the wavering Du Tillet was approaching the gulf into which he
was to fall.

Calvin made up for his disappointments by devoting himself lovingly to
the French refugees at Strasburg. He consoled them, succoured them, and
gave them very trusty counsel.[303] To strengthen his exiled
fellow-countrymen was the work of his whole life. 'We must be
_strangers_ in this world,' he said, 'even if we do not quit the _nest_.
But blessed are those who, rather than fall away from the faith, freely
forsake their homes, and leave their earthly comforts to dwell with
Christ.[304]

Calvin did not remain long at Strasburg. Did he fear the influence of
that city upon his friend? or did he find too many occupations and
disturbances which prevented his giving all his time to the work to
which he wished to dedicate himself? I think so, but there was something
else. He understood that instead of receiving knowledge from the hand of
others, he must personally work the mine of Scripture and dig up the
precious gems that it contained. He wished, like the bee, to extract a
store of the purest honey from the abundance of the flowers of the
divine Word. He had had enough of travelling, of disagreements, of
struggles, and of persecution ... his soul longed for solitude and quiet
study. 'O God,' said he, 'hide me in some obscure corner, where I may at
last enjoy the repose so long denied me.'[305] Calvin departed for
Basle.

[Sidenote: ERASMUS.]

Erasmus, as we know, had long resided in that city. Calvin desired to
see him. He was beyond all doubt much more a man of compromises than
Bucer; and from timidity, rather than principle, he inclined to the side
of the papacy. He was, however, a great scholar; had he not published
the New Testament in Greek? Having left Basle, at the moment of the
triumph of the Reformation there, he happened just at this time to be at
Friburg in Brisgau, on the road from Strasburg to Switzerland. Could
Calvin pass so near the town where he lived who had '_laid the egg_' of
the Reformation, and not try to see him? A writer of the sixteenth
century has given an account of the interview between these two men
who—one in the department of letters, the other in that of faith—were
the greatest personages of the day.

Bucer desired to accompany Calvin and introduce him to Erasmus.[306] The
precaution was almost necessary: the old doctor was _ratting_, wishing
to die in peace with Rome. Paul III. had hardly been proclaimed pope,
when he who had kindled the fire offered his good services to him, in
order to maintain the faith and restore peace to the Church.[307] His
letter quite charmed the crafty pontiff. 'I know,' Paul answered, 'how
useful your excellent learning, combined with your admirable eloquence,
may be to me in rescuing many minds from these new errors.'[308] The
pope even had some idea of sending Erasmus a cardinal's hat.

[Sidenote: CALVIN MEETS ERASMUS.]

Calvin had not chosen his time well, yet Erasmus received him, though
not without some little embarrassment. The young reformer, impatient to
hear the oracle of the age, began to ask him numerous questions on
difficult points.[309] Erasmus, fearing to commit himself, was reserved,
and gave only vague answers. His interlocutor was not discouraged. Had
not the scholar of Rotterdam said that the only remedy for the evils of
the Church was the intervention of Christ himself?[310] That was
precisely Calvin's idea, and therefore following it up, he explained his
convictions with considerable energy. Erasmus listened with
astonishment. He perceived at last that the young man would not only go
farther than himself but even than Luther, and would wage a merciless
war against all human traditions. The scholar to whom the pope had
offered the Roman purple became alarmed; he looked at Calvin with
astonishment, put an end to the conversation, and approaching Bucer,
whispered in his ear: _Video magnam pestem oriri in Ecclesia contra
Ecclesiam_.[311] Erasmus broke with the French reformer as he had broken
with the German reformer. The two visitors withdrew. We believe the
account of this interview to be authentic, in opposition to Bayle who
carries his sceptical spirit everywhere. Calvin might have been proud of
this opinion of Erasmus. His censure might appear to him praise, and his
praise censure, as the poet says.[312] Luther had said: 'O pope, I will
be thy pestilence and death!' Calvin and Du Tillet arrived at Basle.

That city possessed a university with distinguished scholars, good
theologians, and celebrated printers; but Calvin did not knock at any of
their doors. In a bye-street there lived one Catherine Klein, a pious
woman, who took delight in serving God, and loved to wash the feet of
the saints, as the Gospel says. It was her house the young doctor
sought. Coming to the banks of the Rhine, the two friends crossed the
famous bridge which unites Little Basle to the old City, and knocked at
this pious woman's door. Here Calvin found 'the obscure corner' he had
so longed for.[313] Catherine received him with frankness and soon
learnt the worth of the man she had in her house. She was not one of
those women who from vanity 'toy and coquet,' to use Calvin's own
words;[314] but of those who having the fear of God before their eyes,
are honest and chaste in their appearance.[315] Distinguished by her
virtues and piety, she loved to listen to Calvin, and never grew weary
of admiring the beauty of his genius, the holiness of his life, the
integrity of his doctrines, and the zeal with which he applied, day and
night, to study.[316] Calvin seemed like a lighted candle in her house;
and thirty years later, receiving as a lodger a man who was to be one of
the victims of the St. Bartholomew—Peter Ramus—this estimable woman took
pleasure in describing to him the reformer's mode of life.[317] The
illustrious philosopher, uniting his voice with that of the aged
Catherine, and standing in the very chamber that Calvin had occupied,
apostrophized the reformer, as 'the light of France, the light of the
Christian Church all over the world.'[318]

In the early part of his stay at Basle, Calvin appears to have seen
nobody but his hostess and his inseparable friend Louis du Tillet. He
avoided all acquaintanceships that might have led to his being
recognised, and he went out but seldom.[319] Sometimes, however, he and
his friend would climb the hills which rise above the Rhine, and
contemplate the magnificence of that calm and mighty river, whose waters
are ever flowing onwards, with nothing to interrupt their majestic
course.

  Labitur et labetur in omne volubilis œvum.[320]

[Sidenote: INWARD WORK IN CALVIN.]

It was not fear of persecution that led Calvin to hide himself; he was
in a free city. But he had need to put himself out of the reach of the
strange winds of doctrine that were then rushing over the world, and of
all the sensations of one of the most troubled periods of history. He
wished to withdraw himself from earthly noises, and hear only the voice
of God and the music of heaven. Rapid emotions, now sorrowful, now
joyful, continually repeated, as he had so often felt in Paris,
neutralised each other and left nothing in his heart. He wished to fix
his looks on high, and give the thoughts which descended to him from
heaven the time to lay firm hold upon his mind, and become transformed
into a strong and unchangeable affection, which would become the soul of
his whole life. He had already learnt much; but it was not sufficient
for him to learn, he must create: that was the vocation he had received
from his Master, and to that end he must concentrate all the strength of
his intelligence and of his heart. When God desires to form the ripe ear
of corn, he proceeds slowly and silently, but powerfully. The little
seed is hardly thrown into the ground when the manifold forces of
different agents combine to fecundate the germ. During the coolness of
the night or the heat of the day, the earth imparts her juices, the rain
enriches it, and the sun-warms it.... Such was the inner process then
going on in the reformer. Divine and human forces were combining to
bring to maturity all the germs of beauty and strength that God had
deposited in his heart, will, and understanding, and to render his
genius capable of undertaking and accomplishing a great work in the
world. Calvin felt that he needed silence and concentration. Destined to
become one of God's mightiest instruments for his age and all ages to
come, it was necessary for him to live alone with God, that he should
have God in him, and that the divine warmth should so melt and purify
all his natural energies, as to fit him for the accomplishment of his
immense task. 'Ah!' said he, without thinking of himself, 'God wishing
to publish his law by Moses, led him to Sinai and took him into his
heavenly closet.'[321] Many of God's ministers have, after Moses, been
thus prepared for the work of their office. Luther had been carried away
to the Wartburg: Basle was Calvin's Wartburg, still more than Angoulême.

He had, however, one acquaintance, or rather an intimate friend in that
city. This was Nicholas Cop, ex-rector of the university of Paris, and
now a refugee at Basle. How could Calvin, who had been the innocent
cause of his exile, remain long within the same walls without seeing
him? While preserving his incognito with respect to the public, he
called upon his dear fellow-soldier, and the latter saw that pale
familiar face enter his room. The friends now visited each other and
conversed together; but mystery for some time longer shrouded the person
of the young reformer.

[Sidenote: GRYNÆUS AND CALVIN.]

One day, however, Calvin spoke to Cop of an eminent man then in Basle.
This was Simon Grynæus, Melanchthon's schoolfellow, who in 1529 had
escaped with difficulty from the violent attacks of the papists of
Spire, and had been invited to Basle to take Erasmus's place. 'Well
versed in Latin, Greek, philosophy, and mathematics,' said Melanchthon,
'he possessed a mildness of temper that was never put out, and an almost
excessive bashfulness.'[322] And yet he has been compared 'to the
splendour of the sun that overpowers the light of the stars.'[323]

Calvin knew Grynæus by repute; he met him, and was captivated by his
amiable and gentle disposition. Grynæus, on his side, loved Calvin, and
the two scholars often shut themselves up together in their room. 'I
remember well,' wrote Calvin to Grynæus in after years, 'how we used to
talk in private on the best mode of interpreting Scripture.'[324]—'The
chief merit in an interpreter,' said the Basle professor, 'is an easy
brevity without obscurity.' It is the rule Calvin followed. At this
time, under the direction of Grynæus, he studied Hebrew literature more
thoroughly.[325]

Calvin's residence at Basle soon became known, even to strangers, and
the unseasonable visits which interfered with his studies and which he
so much dreaded, began again. One day a total stranger called upon
him.[326] He came (he said) on the part of one Christopher Libertet,
surnamed Fabri, a student of Montpelier, who had quitted medicine for
the ministry, and whom we shall meet again in Switzerland as Farel's
fellow-labourer. 'Fabri has desired me to inform you,' said the unknown,
'that he does not entirely approve of certain passages in your book on
the _Immortality of the Soul_.' This message from a student, delivered
by a stranger, might have offended Calvin. His work was a great success.
The power of conviction stamped on it, the weight of the proofs, the
force of the arguments drawn from Scripture, its lucidity of style, its
richness of thought, the glow of light that shone round every word of
the author—all these things subjugated its readers. But the enthusiasm
of some of his friends did not blind the author to the imperfections of
his work. With touching humility he answered Fabri, who had not long
left school: 'Far from being displeased at your opinion, your simplicity
and candour have delighted me much.[327] My temper is not so crabbed as
_to refuse to others the liberty I enjoy myself_.[328] You must know,
then, that I have almost entirely re-written my book.' This letter is
signed _Martinus Lucianus_, the name probably that Calvin went by at
Basle. The date, _Basle, 11th September_ (the contents show that the
year must be 1534), is an important mark in the reformer's life.

Visits were not the only troubles that disturbed Calvin's solitude. His
incognito had hardly ceased before he was attacked by anxieties from
every quarter. The discords which broke out in France and Switzerland
filled him with sorrow. 'I exhort you with all my soul, you and the
brethren, to keep the peace,' he wrote to Fabri. 'In order to maintain
it, let us make all the greater efforts, the more Satan endeavours to
destroy it. I have been filled with indignation at hearing of the new
troubles stirred up by a man from whom I should have suspected nothing
of the sort. He has vomited the poison with which he was swollen during
a long period of dissimulation; and after darting his sting, he has run
away like a viper.' Was this man Caroli?—I cannot say.

[Sidenote: TRANSLATIONS OF THE BIBLE.]

In his retirement on the Wartburg, Luther had translated the New
Testament. Calvin engaged in a similar task at Basle. On March 27, 1534,
a translation was published by Pierre de Wingle at Neuchâtel: it was a
small folio, printed in double columns, and was from the pen of Lefèvre
of Etaples, but had undergone a revision with regard to certain
expressions which still retained a Romish colouring. It would appear
that this edition was suppressed, either because it had been made
without resorting to the original texts, or because Wingle himself was
dissatisfied with it.[329] He was soon to publish a more perfect
version, in which Calvin assisted while at Basle. We shall have occasion
to speak of this in connection with Calvin's cousin, Olivetan, the
principal translator. Another work—which was to be the great work of his
life—soon occupied the young reformer.

[290] Schmidt, _Jean Sturm_, ch. iii.

[291] Calvin to Bucer, 150 et. 1541.

[292] 'Matthias qui solus adhuc populum habet.'—Bucerus Blauerero, 18th
Jan. 1534.

[293] Rœrich, _Reform in Elsass_, i. p. 133.

[294] _Christliche Verantwortung._

[295] Calvini _Opp._

[296] Fueslin, Beyträge, p. 196. Lehr, _Matth. Zell._ p. 67.

[297] 'Quæ furit sese amando,—Etsi amat (ut nos omnes) sua impensius.'
See Rœhrich, _Mittheilungen_, iii. p. 132.

[298] +Gunaikokratoumenos+.—Bucerus Blaurero, 16 Nov. 1533.

[299] 'Ad opera uxor eum detrudit.'—Ibid. Jan. 1534.

[300] Letter to Farel, dated Strasburg, May 19, 1539.

[301] Letter to Bucer, October 15, 1541.

[302] Calvin to Du Tillet, _Lettres Françaises_, i. pp. 4, 54. See also
the _Correspondence_ published for the first time by M. Crottet, p. 25.

[303] Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Hérés._ ii. p. 272.

[304] Calvin, _Lettres Françaises_, i. p. 272.

[305] 'Quiete diu negata fruerer.'—Calvin, _Præf. in Psalm._

[306] 'Cum Calvinus a Bucero ad Erasmum adductus esset.'—Flor. Rémond,
_Hist. Hérés._ ii. p. 251.

[307] 'In causam ecclesiæ tranquillandæ.'—Paulus papa Erasmo; Erasmi
_Ep._ p. 1539.

[308] 'Ad novos errores ex multorum animis abscindendos.'—Ibid.

[309] 'De intricatis aliquot religionis capitibus sermonem cum ipso
contulit.'—Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Hérés._ ii. p. 251.

[310] 'Nec ulla superest medendi spes, nisi Christus ipse vertat
aminos'.—Erasmi _Op._

[311] I see a great pestilence rising in the Church against the
Church.—Flor. Rémond, _Hist. Hérés._ ii. p. 251. 'Ad Bucerum
Calvinum demonstrans dixisse fertur.'—Ibid.

[312] Whose praise is censure and his censure praise.

[313] 'Ut in obscuro aliquo angulo abditus.'—(Calv. _Præf. in
Psalm._)

[314] 'Mignardent et folâtrent.'

[315] Calvinus, _in Timoth._ 1. ch. ii.

[316] 'Catherina Petita lectissima matrona sanctitate singularis ingenii
mirifice captus.'—_Ramus_, Basilea, 1571. See also the _Life of Peter
Ramus_, by Mr. Ch. Waddington, who was the first to direct attention to
this interesting passage, p. 194.

[317] 'Tum Calvini hospita sæpe ac jucunde mihi narravit.'—_Ramus_,
Basilea, 1571.

[318] 'Lumen Galliæ, lumen christianæ per orbem terrarum ecclesiæ.—Ibid.

[319] 'Cum incognitus Basileæ laterem.'—Calv. _Præf. in Psalm._

[320] 'It flows and shall flow on for ever.'—Horace, _Ep._, bk. I.
Ep. ii.

[321] Calvin, in _Matth._ iv. 1.

[322] 'Pudore pene immodico.'—Erasmi _Ep._ p. 1464.

[323] 'Solis radiantis splendor cæterorum siderum lumen obscurat.'—Bezæ
_Icones_.

[324] Calvin, _Dédicace de l'Épître aux Romains_.

[325] 'Sese hebraicis litteris dedit.'—Beza, _Vita Calvini_.

[326] 'Jam mihi a nescio quo sermo injectus.'—Calvin to Libertet.

[327] 'Tantum abest ut tuo judicio offensus fuerim.'—Ibid.

[328] 'Neque enim ea est mea morositas.'—Ibid.

[329] It would seem that the only copy extant is that in the library of
Neuchâtel.




 CHAPTER XIV.
 INSTITUTES OF THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION.
 (WINTER 1534.)


Calvin had not been long in Basle when dreadful news arrived which
deeply agitated the inhabitants of that reformed city, and especially
Calvin himself. It was reported that in consequence of some
controversial placards which had been posted up in Paris, and throughout
France, the king's anger had broken all bounds, that the evangelicals
were persecuted, that the Châtelet directed the inquisition ... and that
the burning piles were preparing. Cop, Du Tillet, Calvin, and other
refugees conversed about these mournful events. Du Tillet blamed the
violent language of the placards; Calvin seems to have kept silence on
this point—at least in his famous epistle to Francis I. he does not
disavow the placards, which it would have been wise to do, if he had
decidedly blamed them. Days and weeks went by in the midst of continual
uneasiness; the air seemed big with storms, and terrible explosions from
time to time startled every compassionate heart.

[Sidenote: CALVIN'S PLEA FOR COMPASSION.]

At the end of November, Calvin heard of the successive deaths of
Berthelot, Du Bourg, Paille, and several others whom he had known. How
often he had sat at Du Bourg's table, how often conversed with the poor
cripple!... Calvin, in his emotion, was greatly surprised at those who
could find no tears for such sorrows. 'Let us reject that mad
philosophy,' he said in after years, 'which would make men entirely
unfeeling that they may be wise. The stoics must have been void of
common sense, when they trampled on the affections of man.... There are
fanatics even now who would like to introduce these dreams into the
Church, who ask for a heart of iron, who cannot support one little tear,
and yet, if anything happens to them, against their will, they lament
perpetually.... The affections which God has placed in human nature are
not more vicious of themselves than He who gave them. Ought we not to
rejoice in God's gifts? Why, then, should we not be permitted to feel
sorrow when they are taken from us? Let believers lament, therefore,
when one of their relations or friends is taken away by death, and let
them be sad when the Church is deprived of good men. Only, as we know
that life is given us in Christ Jesus, let our sorrow be moderated by
hope.'[330]

One day, probably in December or January, Calvin saw an old man arrive:
he was half blind, and felt his way as he walked towards him. It was
Courault, who, liberated from prison by Margaret's influence, had
escaped from the convent where he had been shut up. It was a great joy
to the young doctor to see this venerable Christian again, whose death
three years later was to overwhelm him with such deep distress. The
refugees surrounded Courault, and wanted to know the terrible news from
Paris. He had not witnessed the punishments, but he could describe them,
and cries of sorrow rose from every heart. Courault was soon followed by
other fugitives. For some weeks there was a little repose; the sky was
heavy and threatening, but silent.

On a sudden the tempest burst out again, the bolts fell furiously and
consumed many other victims. About the end of January 1535 the news of
the martyrdoms of the 21st of that month reached Basle. Calvin's soul
was perpetually agitated by these atrocious persecutions. 'Alas!' he
exclaimed, 'in France they are burning many faithful and holy
people!'[331] He saw them fastened to the _estrapade_, swinging in the
air, plunged into the flames, and then drawn out to be plunged into them
again.... 'With what furious rage the enemies of God are transported,'
he said; 'but though horrible curses and execrable reproaches are hurled
upon the Christians from every side, they continue to repose firmly on
the grace of Jesus Christ, having confidence that they will be safe even
in death.'[332]

Calvin was not the only person to feel these keen emotions. 'As gibbets
were set up in various parts of the kingdom,' says Mézeray, 'and
_chambres ardentes_ were instituted, the Lutheran preachers and those
who had listened to them took flight, and in a few months there were
more than a hundred refugees who carried their sorrows and their
complaints to the courts of the German princes.'[333] Their tales
excited great indignation in Germany. True, the martyrs were often
calumniated, but in many cities the refugees from beyond the Rhine were
able to refute the falsehoods of their enemies. The true Christians were
not deceived, and they recognised the victims as their brethren.[334]
This was a consolation to the reformer. 'The news having spread to
foreign nations,' he said, 'these burnings were counted very wicked by a
large number of Germans, and they felt great bitterness against the
authors of such tyranny.'[335]

[Sidenote: OSWALD MYCONIUS.]

The 'bitterness' was still greater at Basle. Among those who shared
Calvin's sorrow was Oswald Myconius, the friend of Zwingle, antistes or
president of the Church, for whom the reformer entertained an affection
that lasted all his life. He called him 'his very excellent, most
esteemed brother, and very respected friend.'[336] Myconius, as we have
stated elsewhere,[337] was a distinguished philosopher and pupil of
Erasmus and Glareanus: while residing at Zurich, he had taught the
classics, and among his pupils was Thomas Plater; but the disastrous
battle of Cappel had made him renounce this duty. At the moment when
Plater, outstripping the fugitives, who were hurrying from the fight,
was about to enter the city, he encountered Myconius, who was pacing
backwards and forwards before the gates, full of anguish at the thought
of the dangers incurred by Zwingle, Zurich, and the Reformation.... The
professor had hardly caught sight of his pupil, when, running up to him,
he asked: 'Is Master Ulrich dead?' 'Alas! yes,' answered Plater.
Myconius, struck to the heart, stood motionless, and then, with profound
sorrow, exclaimed: 'I can live at Zurich no longer.' Plater, who had had
nothing to eat for twenty-four hours, went home with Myconius, who gave
him food, and then sat down by him, silent and oppressed by the weight
of his thoughts. At last Myconius took him into his room, and said to
him, with consternation: 'Where must I go?'... The pastor of St. Alban's
church at Basle had also fallen on the mountain of Zug. 'Go to Basle,
and become minister there,' said Plater.[338] Shortly after this the
professor and his pupil set out on foot for Basle, where they arrived
after many adventures and alarms.

A few days later Myconius was called upon to preach the _Council
Sermon_, which was delivered at six in the morning. 'When I entered his
room on the morning of the appointed day,' says Plater, 'I found him
still in bed. "Father," said I, "get up; you have your sermon to
preach." "What! is it to-day?" said Myconius, and jumped out of bed.
"What shall be the subject of my sermon? Tell me." "I cannot." "I insist
upon your giving me a subject." "Very well; show whence our disaster
proceeded, and why it was inflicted on us." "Jot that down upon a piece
of paper." I obeyed, and then lent him my Testament, in which he placed
the memorandum I had just written. He went into the pulpit, and spoke
eloquently before an audience of learned men, attracted there by the
desire to hear a man who had never preached before. All were filled with
wonder, and after the sermon I heard Doctor Simon Grynæus say to Doctor
Sulterus (who at that time belonged to us): "O Sulterus, let us pray God
for this man to stay among us, for he may do much good." '[339]

[Sidenote: SYMPATHY WITH CALVIN.]

Myconius was nominated pastor of St. Alban's, and was soon after called
to replace Œcolampadius as president of the Church at Basle. He had
entertained some illusions with regard to Francis I. A Frenchman, a
strong partisan of that king, had persuaded him that Francis was not
ill-disposed towards the Gospel; that if he dissembled his sentiments,
it was only because of the prelates of his kingdom; and that if he once
obtained the possessions in Italy which he coveted, it would be seen
that he had not much liking either for the pope or the papists.[340]
Myconius was struck with indignation and grief, when he heard of the
barbarous executions with which that prince had feasted the eyes of the
citizens of Paris. He could sympathise all the more with Calvin, as,
although a man of mild and temperate disposition, he shared in the
decided and energetic opinions of the author of the placards. 'Why sew
new patches on so torn a garment?' he said, speaking of popery. 'We
should never meet the dragon but to kill him.'[341] A great unity of
sentiment drew Calvin and Myconius together in the disastrous times of
which we are speaking. The burning stakes of Paris drove them farther
from Rome, and bound them closer to the Gospel.

There were minds, however, upon which persecution produced a very
different effect. Amid all this indignation and sorrow, Du Tillet
remained shut up in himself and silent. The gentleness of the Word of
God attracted him, but the bitterness of the cross terrified him. He had
quitted everything with joy, believing that a general reform of the
Church would be carried out promptly; but when he saw a mortal combat
beginning between the Gospel and popery, 'he felt a deep emotion, he
lost his rest,' as he tells us himself, 'and suffered inexpressible
trouble and anguish of mind.' Each of the punishments at Paris added to
the doubts and agitation of that candid but weak nature. He seemed to
fear schism only, but the prospect of persecution and reproach had some
share in his alarm. 'He did not understand,' as Calvin says, 'that while
bearing the cross we keep Christ company, so that all bitterness is
sweetened.' He kept himself apart, he passed days and nights filled with
torture. 'I have been lonely, and without rest for the space of three
years and a half,' he wrote to his old friend in 1538.[342] His intimacy
with the reformer was changed, and three years later he was to cause him
a sorrow as great, nay greater, no doubt, than that which Calvin had
felt when he heard of the deaths of the martyrs.

The intrigues of the agents of Francis I. began to be attended with
success. They displayed inconceivable activity to mislead public
opinion. They spoke, wrote, and distributed everywhere 'certain little
books full of lies, in which it was said that the king had behaved
harshly to none but rebels, who desired to disturb the State under the
cloak of religion.' Men, and often the best of men, are unhappily prone
to believe evil. Germany began to cool down; even at Basle many people
were deceived; and although they did not believe all the calumnies
circulated against the martyrs, the impression still remained. 'If a few
sectarians have been punished,' said many good men, 'they are
anabaptists, who, far from taking the Word of God for the rule of their
faith, follow only their own corrupt imaginations, and have at bottom no
other doctrine but a contempt of the higher powers. We cannot defend the
cause of a handful of seditious people who desire to overthrow
everything, even political order.'[342a]

[Sidenote: EFFECT OF THE MARTYRDOMS ON CALVIN.]

Shut up with his books in the room he occupied at Catherine Klein's,
Calvin thought day and night of these cruel accusations, and his noble
soul felt indignant not only that the children of the heavenly Father
should be forced to suffer atrocious punishments, but that it was
attempted to defame their characters. 'These court practisers,' he said,
'load the holy martyrs after their death with undeserved blame and vile
calumnies, and endeavour to hide the disgrace of this shedding of
innocent blood under cowardly disguises. They thus put poor believers to
death, and no one is able to have compassion on them.'[343] The young
doctor saw himself between two rivers of blood—that of his brethren
already immolated, and that of other Christians who would certainly be
immolated in their turn. He had not been able to prevent the death of a
Milon and a La Forge; but he would at least try to turn away the sword
that threatened other lives. 'If I do not oppose it righteously and to
the best of my ability,' said Calvin, 'I shall fairly be called cowardly
and disloyal on account of my silence.' He will speak, he will rush
between the executioners and their victims. A heavenly word rang through
his soul: _Open thy mouth for the dumb in the cause of all such as are
appointed to destruction_.[344] He therefore formed one of those
resolutions which, in a character such as his, are unalterable. 'I will
obey Him who speaks to me from on high,' he said. 'I will reply to the
wicked tales that are circulated against my brethren; and as similar
cruelties may be practised against many other believers, I will
endeavour to touch foreign nations with some compassion in their favour.
Such was the reason,' he adds, 'which moved me to publish the
_Institutes of the Christian Religion_.'[345] Never had noble book so
noble an origin. Justin Martyr, Athenagoras, and Tertullian had written
their _Apologies_ by the light of the stakes of the second century;
Calvin wrote his by the light of those of the sixteenth. The publication
of the _Christian Institutes_ was the pitiful cry of a compassionate
soul at the sight of those who were going to the stake.

[Sidenote: THEOLOGY RESTORED.]

Calvin had long meditated the great subject which then absorbed him—the
system of Christian faith; and his book was to be the finest body of
doctrine ever possessed by the Church of Christ. During four centuries,
reckoning from the twelfth, minds of the highest order had formulated
abstract systems, in which scholastic rationalism and ecclesiastical
authority were habitually combined; they had wasted their strength in
running after expositions, contradictions, resolutions, conclusions, and
interminable _pros_ and _cons_; theology was lost in an arid wilderness.
It was about to come out of it in order to enter into new lands. But it
was not a trifling matter to make Christian science pass from death to
life, from darkness to light. It required an awakened conscience, a
heart thirsting for righteousness, a high intelligence, and a powerful
will boldly to break through all the _chains_,[346] to scatter to the
winds the _sentences_ and the _sums_ which the schoolmen had painfully
woven out of their brains or out of traditions that were often impure,
and to set up in their place the living rock of the heavenly Word on
which the temple of God is to be built.

Calvin was the man called to this work. Until his time, dogmatics, when
passing from one period to another, had always advanced in the same
direction, from abstraction to abstraction. But suddenly the course was
changed; Calvin refused to tread the accustomed road. Instead of
advancing in the way of the schoolmen towards new developements of a
more refined intellectualism, he turned eagerly backwards, he heard the
voice of conscience, he felt the wants of the heart, he ran whither
alone they can be satisfied, he traversed fifteen centuries. He went to
the gospel springs, and there collecting in a golden cap the pure and
living waters of divine revelation, presented them to the nations to
quench their thirst.

The Reformation was not simply a change in the doctrine or in the
manners or in the government of the Church: it was a creation. The first
century had witnessed the first Christian creation, the fifteenth
century witnessed the second.

Luther, by the power of his faith, was the principal organ of this new
creation. Freeing himself from the thick darkness that had hung over
mankind for so many centuries, he had with holy energy hurled his
lightnings and thunderbolts in every direction around him, so that all
the horizon was lighted up. Calvin appeared; he gathered up these
scattered flames, and made them into an immense fire; and while the
gleams of the primitive creation of the Church had been confined almost
entirely within the limits of the Roman world, the fires of the new
creation are spreading to the ends of the earth.

Calvin retired within himself to meditate on the work to which God
called him; he turned a deep glance into those depths of Scripture which
he had so often sounded. Holding the torch of the Spirit, he summoned
before him the great Persons of the Christian economy, not to make them
figure, as the schoolmen had done, in a learned fencing-match, but to
elicit from them the fundamental truths of faith, and plant the golden
columns of the temple of light and life.

[Sidenote: THE INSTITUTES.]

The _Institutes of the Christian Religion_ is Calvin's great
achievement; it is Calvin himself, and we must therefore describe it.
History, indeed, generally narrates the actions performed by the arm of
the soldier or the negociations of the diplomatist; but the work that
Calvin then accomplished, by spiritual force, far exceeds in the
importance of its consequences all that has ever been done by the pens
of the ablest statesmen or the swords of the bravest warriors. Let us
describe, therefore, this 'action' of a nature apart. 'Curious minds,'
as Calvin calls them, will perhaps pass over these pages: we regret it,
but we must write them all the same.

'The whole sum of wisdom,' said the great doctor of modern times at the
beginning of his work, 'is that by knowing _God_, each of us knows
_himself_ also; and these two facts are bound to each other by so many
ties, that it is not easy to discern which goes before and produces the
other.'

In fact, Calvin, when addressing man, shows him first of all _God
himself_—wonder of wonders!—_in man_. 'God,' says he to man, 'has
stamped in you a knowledge of himself, and he continually refreshes this
memory in you, as if he poured it out drop by drop. We have _a
consciousness of divinity graven so deeply on our minds_, that we cannot
erase it. The rebellion even of the wicked bears testimony of this, for
while combating madly to throw off the fear of God, that fear remains
inevitably clinging to them, as if it were in the marrow of their
bones.' But after ascribing to man the exquisite privilege of bearing
the name of God within him, Calvin immediately brings a severe charge
against the human race. 'Alas! we shall hardly find _one_ in a hundred
that cherishes this divine seed in his heart. Some through curiosity fly
away in vain speculations; others vanish in foolish superstitions;
others, finally, deprive God of his office as judge and governor, shut
him up idle in heaven, and thus remain without God in the world.... What
is to be done? Shall we toss and tumble continually, carried hither and
thither by many erroneous levities?'[347]

Calvin then takes man by the hand, and wishing him to know the eternal
mysteries, places him before a vast spiritual mirror, the Holy
Scriptures, where all invisible things appear in their living reality.
Thus distinguishing himself from all the doctors of catholicism who had
spoken for ten centuries, he puts in the fore-front, in an absolute
manner, the full sufficiency and sovereign authority of the Word of God.

'God,' said he, 'has opened his sacred mouth, to make known that he is
the God whom we should adore. When a handsome book in well-formed
characters is set before those who have weak eyes, or before decrepit
old men, they can hardly read two words consecutively; but if they take
a magnifying glass, forthwith they read everything distinctly. If we
wish to see clearly, let us take Holy Scripture: without it we have but
a confused and partial knowledge of God in our minds; but that drives
away all obscurity in us, and shows us clearly God's heart.'

Already in the time of Calvin there were certain doctors who would strip
the Bible of its inspiration and christianity of its supernaturalism.
'There are, I know full well,' he said, 'despisers, and cavillers, and
mockers, who attack the Word, and if I had to fight out this quarrel
with them, it would not be difficult for me to silence their cackling.
But in addition to all the proof that reason brings, there is one above
all others. It is necessary that the same Spirit which has spoken by the
mouth of the prophets should enter our hearts, that he should touch them
to the quick, and convince them that the prophets have faithfully
declared what had been enjoined them from on high.'[348] The testimony
of the Holy Ghost—that is the proof of proofs.

Calvin then turns to man, the self-worshipper, who puts himself in the
place of God, and reveals to him the sin that is in him. 'Come down
now,' he says, 'come down and consider thyself. Learn to know this sin,
derived from Adam and dwelling in us, like a glowing furnace,
perpetually throwing out flames and sparks, and the fire of which not
only burns the senses, but pollutes all that is most noble in our
souls.' There is no means by which man can escape of himself from this
wretchedness of his nature. 'If thou pretendest to rise by thy own
strength, thou standest on the end of a reed ... that snaps
immediately.'[349]

Then Calvin shows man where his salvation is to be found, and describes
with grandeur the work of expiation. 'While our condemnation holds us
surprised, trembling, and startled before the judgment seat of God, the
penalty to which we were subject has been laid on the innocent. All that
can be imputed to us in the sight of God is transferred upon Jesus
Christ. The divine founder of the Kingdom has suffered in the place of
the children of the Kingdom.... Our peace can be found only in the
terrors and agony of Christ our Redeemer.'[350]

But how does this work, accomplished _out_ of man, act _in_ man?... Such
is the great question the Reformer sets himself. Divine faith which lays
hold of the righteousness of Christ _upon the cross_ gives birth at the
same moment to the holiness of Christ _in the heart_. 'Man has no sooner
embraced the atonement with a faith full of confidence,' he says, 'than
he experiences an unalterable peace in his conscience. He possesses a
spirit of adoption, which makes him call God _my Father!_ and which
procures him a sweet and joyful communion with the heavenly Father.
Immediately the least drop of faith is put into our souls we begin to
contemplate the face of God, kind and favourable to us. True, we see it
from afar, but it is with an undoubting eye, and we know that there is
no deception.'

A new question is here started. The young doctor is asked: Is man saved
by charity or without it? He makes answer: 'There is no other faith
which justifies save that which is united with charity; but it is not
from charity that it derives the power to justify. Faith justifies only
because it puts us in communication with the righteousness of Christ.
Whosoever confounds the two righteousnesses (that of man and that of
God) hinders poor souls from reposing on the sole and pure mercy of God,
plaits a crown of thorns for Jesus Christ, and turns his sacrifice to
ridicule.'

Here Calvin puts forward the grand idea which characterises the
Reformation effected by his teaching; namely, _that it is only the new
man which we should value_. After insisting as much as any doctor on the
work that Christ does _without us_, he insists more than any on the work
Christ must do _within us_. 'I exalt to the highest degree,' he says,
'the conjunction that we have with our Chief,—the dwelling he makes in
our hearts by faith,—the sacred union by which we enjoy him. It is
necessary that we should perceive in our lives a melody and harmony
between the righteousness of God and the obedience of our souls.'

But Calvin observed that many humble, timid christians were distressed
because they experienced only a weak faith. These he consoles, and the
images he employs are picturesque: 'If any one, shut up in a deep
dungeon,' he says, 'received the light of the sun obliquely and
partially, through a high and narrow window, he would not certainly have
a sight of the full sun, yet he would not fail to receive a certain
quantity of light and to enjoy its use. In the same way, though we are
shut up in the prison of this earthly body, where much obscurity
surrounds us on every side, if we have _the least spark_ of God's light,
we are sufficiently illuminated and may have a firm assurance.'

May not that flame be extinguished, ask christians hesitatingly. 'No,'
said Calvin, 'the light of faith is never so extinct that there does not
remain some glimmer. The root of faith is never so torn from the heart,
that it does not remain fastened there, although it seems to lean to
this side or that.' 'Faith,' he exclaimed (and he had often felt it),
'faith is an armed man within us to resist the attacks of the evil
one.... If we put faith in the front, she receives the blows and wards
them off. She may indeed be shaken, as a stalworth soldier may be
compelled by a violent blow to step backwards. Her shield may receive
damage so as to lose its shape, but not be penetrated; and even in this
extremity the shield deadens the blow, and the weapon does not pierce to
the heart.'

After consoling the timid and uplifting the wounded, this extraordinary
man, who speaks with the firmness of one of the captains of the army of
God, exhorts the soldiers of Christ to be brave: 'When St. John promises
the victory to our faith, he does not mean simply that it will be
victorious in _one_ battle, or in _ten_, but in _all_. Be full of
courage then. To fluctuate, to vary, to be tossed to and fro; to doubt,
to vacillate, to be kept in suspense, and finally to despair ... that is
not having confidence. We must have a solid support on which we can
rest. _God has said it_, that is enough. Being under the safeguard of
Christ, we are in no danger of perishing.'[351]

Calvin turning to Rome seeks for the origin of its errors and
superstitions, and finds it in the pelagianism with which it is tainted.
Grace in all its fulness,—grace from the first movement of regeneration
until the final accomplishment of salvation, was the keynote of all
Calvin's theology; and it is also the powerful artillery with which he
batters the Roman fortress. Like St. Paul in the first century, like St.
Augustine in the fifth, Calvin is the _Doctor of grace_ in the
sixteenth. This is one of his essential features. 'The will of man,' he
said, 'cannot of itself incline to good. Such a movement, which is the
beginning of our conversion to God, Scripture entirely attributes to the
Holy Ghost. A doctrine not only useful, but sweet and savoury through
the fruit it bears; for those who do not know themselves to be members
of the peculiar people of God, are in a continual trembling.... No doubt
the wicked find in it a matter to accuse and cavil at, to disparage and
ridicule ... but if we fear their petulance, we must keep silence as to
our faith, for there is not a single article which they do not
contaminate with their blasphemies. Christ (he continues) wishing to
deliver us from all fear in the midst of so many deadly assaults, has
promised that those who have been given him by his Father to keep, shall
not perish.'[352]

At this period Calvin hears a clamour raised against him. He is accused
of maintaining that God predestines the wicked to evil, and he replies
at once by reprobating such an impious doctrine. 'These mockers jabber
against God,' he says, 'alleging that the wicked are unjustly condemned,
since they execute only what God has determined.... Not so,' he
exclaims; 'far from having obeyed God's command, the wicked by their
lusts rebel against it as far as in them lies. There must be no fencing
with God; there must be no saying, with Agamemnon in Homer, speaking of
evil: It is not _I who am the cause_, but Jupiter and Fate.'[353]

Calvin next hastens to show the fruits of faith: 'We have given the
first rank to doctrine,' he said, 'but to be useful to us, it must
_penetrate into the soul, pass into the manners and regulate the actions
of our life_.... Since the Holy Ghost consecrates us to be temples of
God, we must take pains that the glory of God fills the temple.... We
know those babblers who are content with having the gospel on their
lips, whilst it ought to sink to the bottom of the soul, and we detest
their babbling.'

Calvin had carefully studied the condition of the Church during the
Middle Ages: what had he found there?... The separation of religion and
morality: a government, official doctrines, ceremonies, but all stripped
of moral life. At that time religion was a tree stretching its branches
wide into the air, but there was no sap flowing through them. To restore
a lively faith in religion, and through faith a holy morality was the
reformer's aim. He said: 'God _first impresses on our hearts the love of
righteousness_, to which we are not inclined by nature; and then he
gives us a certain rule, which does not permit us to go astray.'[354]
Accordingly, a morality, unknown for ages, became not only in Geneva,
but wherever Calvin's doctrine penetrated, the distinctive feature of
the Reformation.

An important thought, however, still absorbs him. He wishes not only to
effect certain reforms in certain articles, but to constitute the
Church. In Calvin's estimation the Church is in an especial manner the
whole assembly of the children of God; but he acknowledges also, as
having a right to this name, the visible assembly of those who, in
different parts of the world, profess to worship the Lord: 'A great
multitude, in which the children of God are, alas! but a handful of
unknown people, _like a few grains on the threshing-floor under a great
heap of straw_. Our rudeness, our idleness, and the vanity of our minds
require external helps (he added), and for that reason God has
instituted pastors and teachers.'[355]

[Sidenote: APPRECIATION OF THE INSTITUTES.]

That was a solemn time for Calvin, when in the room he occupied at
Catherine Klein's, he finished his _Institutes_. In after years pious
Christians entered her house with respect, and one of them, Peter Ramus,
being there in 1568, five years after the reformer's death, exclaimed
with emotion: 'Here were kindled the torches that shed so great a light!
Here those illustrious _Christian Institutes_ were composed; and here
Calvin gave himself up wholly to heavenly vigils!'[356]

The _Christian Institutes_ in its earliest form was a simple defence,
explaining briefly _law_, _faith_, _prayer_, _the sacraments_,
_Christian liberty_, and the nature of the _Church and State_. But the
French refugees at Geneva, and even distant protestants, continually
solicited Calvin to set forth the whole Christian doctrine in his book;
and accordingly it received numerous additions.[357]

The _Christian Institutes_ are a proof that christian love prevailed in
Calvin's mind: indeed, he wrote for the justification of _believers, his
brethren_. However, by defending the reformed, he explained and
justified the Reformation itself. What are its principles? The formative
principle of faith and of the Church is, with him as with Luther, the
sovereign Word of God; but he asserts it with more decision than his
predecessor. Calvin is anti-traditional: he will have nothing to do with
host, or font, or festivals and other ceremonies preserved by Luther. He
did not _reform_ the Church, he _re-formed_ it; he created it anew.
Zwingle also was scriptural, as opposed to tradition; yet Calvin's
theology is different from his; that of the Zurich doctor was specially
exegetic, while that of the Geneva doctor was specially dogmatic. If
from the formative principle we pass to that which theologians call the
material principle, namely, that which distinguishes the nature and very
essence of its doctrine, we find that it is at heart the same in Luther
and Calvin—gratuitous salvation; but the former, clinging to Christian
_anthropology_, laid down as a fundamental article, the justification by
faith of the regenerate man; whilst Calvin, clinging particularly to
_theology_, to the doctrine of God, proclaimed first of all, salvation
by the sovereignty of divine grace.

Calvin's polemics, in his _Institutes_, are essentially positive. Like a
master in the midst of artists, who are endeavouring to draw the same
picture, Calvin traces his outline with a bold hand, distributes the
light and shade, and succeeds in making an admirable work. And from that
time his rivals have only to look at it, to acknowledge the
imperfections of their own, with all their want of proportion and
extravagance.... Calvin destroys what is ugly, but he first creates the
beautiful.

The _Institutes_ were admired by the finest spirits of the age. Montluc,
bishop of Valence, called Calvin the greatest theologian in the world. A
French writer of our day, who does not belong to the Reform, but is a
correct and profound thinker,[358] has characterised the _Institutes_
'as the first work of our times which presents an orderly arrangement of
materials, with a composition thoroughly appropriate and exact;' and has
distinguished Calvin himself, 'as treating in a masterly manner all the
questions of Christian philosophy, and as rivalling the most sublime
writers in his great thoughts on God, whose style (he adds) has been
equalled, but not surpassed, by Bossuet.'

[330] Calvin, _Actes_, viii. 2.

[331] Calvin, _Préface des Psaumes_.

[332] Calvin, _Actes_, vii. 59.

[333] Mézeray, _Hist. de France_, ii. p. 981. The _chambres ardentes_
were tribunals that pronounced the penalty of the stake against heresy.

[334] 'Grave passim apud Germanos odium ignes illi excitaverunt.'—Calvin
_in Psalm._

[335] Calvin, _Préface aux Psaumes_.

[336] Letters of Calvin to Myconius, March. 14, and April 17, 1542.

[337] See my _History of the Reformation in the Sixteenth Century_,
books viii. and xi.

[338] _Vie de Thomas Plater_, published by M. E. Fick, Doctor of
Laws.

[339] _Vie de Thomas Plater_, published by E. Fick.

[340] 'Videbis quid amicitiæ sit remansurum cum papa et
papisticis.'—_Myconius ad Bullingerum_, March 1534.

[341] 'Cum draconi non aliter est congrediendum, nisi ut penitus
occidatur.'—Ibid. in post. epist.

[342] Du Tillet to Calvin, September 7, 1538.

[342a] 'Turbulentos homines qui totum ordinem politicum
convellerent.'—Calvin _in Psalm._ See also Beza, _Hist. eccles._, p. 14,
and _Vie de Calvin_, p. 19.

[343] Calvin, _Préface des Psaumes_.

[344] Proverbs xxxi. 8.

[345] _Préface des Psaumes._

[346] 'Catenæ Patrum.'

[347] _Institution_, liv. i. ch. i, ii, iii, iv.

[348] _Institution_, liv. i. ch. vi. and vii.

[349] Ibid. liv. i. ch. i.; liv. ii. ch. ii. and iii.

[350] Ibid. liv. ii. ch. xvi. and xvii.

[351] _Institution_, liv. iii. ch. ii.; liv. ii. ch. xii, xix, xx;
liv. xiii. ch. iii, iv, v.

[352] _Institution_, liv. ii. ch. iii; liv. iii. ch. xxi, xxii,
xxiii.

[353] Ibid. liv. i. ch. xvii, xviii.

[354] _Institution_, liv. iii. ch. vi.

[355] Ibid. liv. iv. ch. i.

[356] 'Hic tanti luminis faces primum incensæ, &c.'—_Ramus_,
Basilea, 1571.

[357] The successive additions are easily seen in the first volume of
Calvin's Works just published in Brunswick by three Strasburg divines,
MM. Baum, Cunitz, and Reuss. We there find the different editions of the
_Institutes_, and the passages peculiar to each are printed in larger
type. We refer to the _Synopsis_ in six columns of the editions of
1536-1539-1543/5-1550/54-1559, &c. In its first form the _Institutes_
consisted of six chapters only; in the last, of eighty, divided into
four books. Our selections have been made from the complete edition.

[358] M. Nisard.




 CHAPTER XV.
 CALVIN ADDRESSES THE KING AND DEPARTS FOR ITALY.
 (AUGUST 1535.)


The object of the _Christian Institutes_ was to make known to
Christendom, and particularly to the protestants of Germany, the
doctrines professed in France by the men whom the king was putting to
death. But was that all he had to do? Calvin thought he saw something
more pressing still. His representations, instead of passing through
Germany, might be addressed direct to the king. In his anguish and
solitary meditations, he had often asked himself why he should not do it
directly and publicly?... It was no doubt a great enterprise for a
persecuted and almost unknown young man to address that powerful
monarch, who was mercilessly throwing his best subjects into the flames.
Calvin did not at first entertain so bold a project. Later, he said to
the king: 'I thought of nothing less than writing things to be laid
before your Majesty.'[359] But the lamentable spectacle presented by
France was night and day before his eyes. And knowing that the same fate
was hanging over the heads of all who desired no other mediator but
Christ, was it right for him to be silent?

In truth, the glare of the burning piles was reappearing in France. A
pious husbandman of Bresse, 'much exercised in the word of God,' by name
John Cornon, was arrested in his native village in the month of May and
taken to Macon. When brought before his judges, he spoke with such faith
and courage, that they were astonished and confounded. Accordingly at
the end of June, he was bound to a hurdle, dragged to the place of
execution, and there burnt alive.[360] Shortly after this, one Dennis
Brion, a man zealous for the gospel, was put to death during 'the great
days' of Angers, in order to terrify the crowds who flocked thither from
all parts for these festivals.[361] The flames which burnt these pious
confessors might perhaps shortly burn other men of God, whom Calvin
desired to save at any cost. He therefore determined to write to the
king, dedicating his book to him.... A bold step!

[Sidenote: LETTER TO THE KING.]

'Sire,' he said, 'you are yourself a witness by what false calumnies our
doctrine is everywhere defamed. Have you not been told that it tends to
nothing else but to ruin all kingdoms and governments, to disturb the
peace, to abolish all law, to confiscate lordships and possessions, and,
in a word, to throw everything into confusion? And nevertheless you hear
only the least part of these outrages. Horrible stories are circulated
against us, for which, if they were true, we should richly deserve to be
hanged a thousand times over.'

What Calvin undertook to do was not merely to show that the evangelical
doctrine of the Reformation has the right to exist side by side with the
Roman Catholic doctrine. This philosophical and Christian stand-point
was not that of the sixteenth century. If the evangelical doctrine has a
right to exist, it is (said Calvin, boldly) because it is the truth. He
desired to gain over both king and people to those convictions, which in
his opinion were alone capable of enlightening and of saving them.

'Our defence,' he said, 'does not consist in disavowing our doctrine,
but in maintaining it to be true. Truth deprives her adversaries of the
right to open their mouths against her. And for this reason, Sire, I
pray you to obtain full information of a cause which hitherto has been
treated with impetuous fury rather than with judicial gravity.... Do not
think that I am striving here in my own private defence, in order to
return to my native country. Verily, I bear it such human affection as
is right, but things are now so arranged, that I am not greatly
distressed at being kept out of it.... No, Sire, I undertake the common
cause of all believers, and even that of Christ himself, a cause now so
rent and trodden down in your kingdom, that it seems desperate.... No
doubt, Christ's truth is not lost and scattered; but it is hidden away
and buried, as if deserving of all ignominy. The poor Church is driven
out by banishment, consumed by cruel deaths, and so terrified by threats
and terrors, that she dares not utter a word. And yet the enemies of
truth are not satisfied. They insist with their accustomed fury on
beating down the wall which they have already shaken, and in completing
the ruin they have begun.'

Here Calvin asks if no one is taking up the defence of these persecuted
Christians.... He looks ... alas! the evangelicals are silent, the queen
of Navarre scarcely raises her timid voice, and diplomatists are
persuading the Germans that the evangelicals of France are fanatics and
madmen ... every one trembles.... 'Nobody,' he exclaims, 'nobody comes
forward to oppose this fury. If even any should wish to appear to favour
the truth, they confine themselves to saying that we should in some way
pardon the _ignorance_ ... the _impudence_ of these simple folks. Thus
they treat God's most sure truth as _impudence_ and _ignorance_. Those
whom our Lord has so esteemed as to impart to them the secrets of his
heavenly wisdom, they call _simple folks_! who permit themselves to be
easily deceived, so ashamed are they of the Gospel.'

Who then shall take the cause of truth in hand?...

'It is your business, Sire,' said Calvin to the king, 'not to avert
either your ears or your heart from so just a defence. A great matter is
at stake. We have to learn how God's glory shall be maintained on earth,
how his truth shall retain its honour, and how Christ's kingdom shall
remain in its integrity.... A matter truly worthy of your ears, worthy
of your government and of your royal throne!... The idea which makes a
true king, is that the king knows himself to be a true minister of God
in the management of his kingdom. A reign which has not God's glory for
its aim, is not a reign but a mere brigandage.'

Calvin had hardly spoken thus when he seemed to see Francis refusing to
turn aside from his brilliant fêtes to lend his ears to the meanest of
his subjects. The king listens to Montmorency, to Tournon ... he hastens
to meet the Duchess d'Etampes; he even welcomes artists and men of
letters; but these miserable religionists ... never!

'Sire,' said Calvin, 'do not turn away in disdain of our meanness.
Verily, we confess that we are poor despicable folks,—miserable sinners
before God, reviled and rejected before men.... Nay, if you like it, we
are the scum of the earth or anything more worthless still, that can be
named. Yes, we have nothing left in which we can glory before God,
except his only mercy ... and nothing before men, except our weakness!'

But the apologist immediately lifts up his head with holy pride:

'Nevertheless,' he says, 'our doctrine must remain exalted, invincible,
and far above all the power and glory of the world. For it is not ours,
but that of the living God and his Christ, whom God has made King to rule
from sea to sea, and from the rivers unto the ends of the earth, ... and
whose magnificence the prophets have foretold, saying that he shall
overthrow kingdoms strong as iron and brass, and shining like silver and
gold.'

Here the advocate of his brethren hears an objection from their enemies.
He sees them clustering round Francis, and incessantly repeating to him
that _these folks_, even while putting forward the Word of God, are only
its _perverse corruptors_.... 'Sire,' he continues, 'you can judge for
yourself, by reading our confession (the _Institutes_) to what an extent
the reproach is nothing but wicked calumny and brazen impudence. What is
more conformable with the christian faith, than to acknowledge ourselves
stripped of all virtue to be clothed with God? empty of all good to be
filled with Him? the slaves of sin to be freed by Him? blind, to have
our sight restored by Him? lame, that He may make us walk? weak, to be
supported by Him? in a word, to put off from us all manner of glory,
that He alone may be glorified?... Ah! we do not read of men being
blamed for drinking too deeply at the fountain of living waters; on the
contrary, the prophet bitterly reproves those who have hewed out broken
cisterns that can hold no water.'[362]

Calvin even attempted—and a hopeless attempt it was—to touch the king's
heart: 'Consider, Sire, all parts of our cause. We are persecuted, some
of us are kept in prison, others are scourged, others forced to do
penance, others banished, others escape by flight.... We are in
tribulation, insulted, treated cruelly, looked upon as outlaws, and
accursed.... And for what?... Because we place our hope in the living
God, and believe that life everlasting is _to know the only true God and
Jesus Christ whom he hath sent_.'

Calvin knew very well, however, that the victory would not be easy. He
had seen the priests closely, in the capital, in cities of second rank,
and in the country. He fancied he could hear the cries raised by the
curés in their parishes, and the monks in their convents. Wishing,
therefore, to enlighten the king, he did so in a rather coarse manner,
after the fashion of the times. 'Why,' he asked, 'do our enemies fight
so stoutly and so sternly for the mass, purgatory, pilgrimages, and such
rubbish?' ... Because the belly is their God, and the kitchen their
religion. Because, although some treat themselves delicately and others
starve upon crusts, they all eat out of the same pot which, without
these branches to warm them (the mass, purgatory, &c.) would not only
grow cold, but freeze entirely.'

Calvin was not ignorant however that the really dangerous enemies of the
Reformation were not those priests and friars whom Erasmus and so many
others had often flagellated to the great delight of the king. He
imagined he saw haughty nobles, fanatical priests and doctors entering
the king's closet, and pouring their perfidious accusations into his
ear. 'I hear them,' he says, 'they call our doctrine _new_.... Verily, I
have no doubt it is _new_, so far as they are concerned, seeing that
even Christ and his gospel are quite new to them. But he who knows that
this preaching of St. Paul's is old, namely, that _Christ died for our
sins and was raised again for our justification_, finds nothing new
among us. True, it has long been hidden and unknown, but the crime must
be laid to the wickedness of man; and now that by God's goodness it is
restored to us, it ought at least to be received into its ancient
authority.'

Here the enemies persist: they claim the old doctors of the Church as
being in their favour. This was the strongest argument in the eyes of
Francis, who affected a certain respect for ancient christian
literature. Calvin was familiar with the writings of the doctors: he had
studied them night and day at Angoulême, Paris, and Basle. 'The Fathers
have been mistaken, just like other men,' he said, 'but these good and
obedient sons (the Romish friars) adore the errors of the Fathers, and
put out of sight what they have said aright, as if they had no other
care but to pick out the rubbish from among the gold.... And then they
attack us with loud clamours as despisers of the Ancients. Far from
despising them, we could prove from their testimony the greater part of
what we are now saying. But those holy persons often differ from each
other and sometimes contradict themselves. They ought not to tyrannise
over us. It is Christ alone whom we must obey wholly and without
exception. Why do not our adversaries take the Apostles for their
Fathers, since it is their landmarks and theirs only that we are
forbidden to remove? And if they desire the landmarks of the Fathers to
be observed, why do they, whenever it suits their pleasure, overleap
them so audaciously?'

Further than this, Calvin makes use of these doctors; he does not fear
them, on the contrary, he appeals to them. He calls them all up to make
them defile before the king and bear testimony against the doctrines of
Rome.

'It was a Father, Epiphanius, who said that it was a horrible
abomination to see an image of Christ or of any saint in a christian
temple.

'It was a Father, Pope Gelasius, who said that the substance of the
bread and wine dwells in the sacrament of the Holy Supper, as the human
nature dwells in our Lord Jesus Christ, united to his divine essence.

'It was a Father, Augustine, who called it a rash theory to assert any
doctrine without the clear testimony of Scripture.

'It was a Father, Paphnutius, who maintained that the ministers of the
Church ought not to be forbidden to marry, and that chastity consisted
in having a lawful wife.

'It was a Father, Augustine, who contended that the Church ought not to
be preferred to Christ, because whilst ecclesiastical judges, being men,
may be mistaken, Christ always judges righteously.... Ah! if I wished to
reckon up all the points in which the Roman doctors reject the yoke of
the Fathers, whose obedient children they call themselves, months and
years would pass away in reading the long roll.... And then they reprove
us for going beyond the ancient boundaries!'

Calvin did not forget that he was speaking to a prince. Struck with the
condition of the world at this important moment, when old superstition
and new doubts, old disorders and new immoralities, ambitions, war, and
desolations, were all conflicting together, he called loudly for a
remedy; and being convinced that the Reformation alone could save
society, he exclaimed: 'Oceans of evil are deluging the land. New
plagues are ravaging the world. Everything is falling into ruins. We
must despair of human affairs, or put them to rights, even if it be by
violent remedies. And yet men reject the remedy.... Ah! God's
everlasting truth alone ought to be listened to in God's kingdom.
Against it neither proscription, nor lapse of years, nor ancient
customs, nor any compact whatever, avails anything.'

'But the Church,' say his adversaries. 'If we are not the Church, where
was it before you?' 'Alas!' answered Calvin, 'how often has not the
Church suffered eclipse, been deformed and oppressed by wars, seditions,
and heresies.... Does not St. Hilary reprimand those who, blinded by an
unreasoning respect, did not observe what sores were sometimes hidden
under a fair outside. You seek the Church of God in the beauty of its
buildings. But know you not that there it is that Antichrist will set up
his throne? Mountains, woods, and lakes, prisons, wildernesses, and
caves—these are to me safer and more trustworthy; for there prophesied
the prophets, who had withdrawn to them. God, seeing that men were
unwilling to obey the truth, permitted them to be buried in deep
darkness, and the form of a true Church to be lost, while still
preserving those who belonged to it, hidden and scattered here and
there. If you are willing, Sire, to give up a part of your leisure, and
to read my writings ... you will see clearly that what our adversaries
call a Church is a cruel gehenna, a slaughter-house of souls, a torch, a
ruin.'

Finally, the young doctor, knowing that the cardinals were continually
repeating to Francis I., 'See what contentions, troubles, and
disturbances the preaching of this doctrine has brought with it,' gave
an answer to that vulgar accusation which is rather striking and
original: 'The Word of God,' he says, 'never comes forward without
Satan's rousing himself and fighting. A few years ago, when everything
was buried in darkness, this lord of the world played with men as he
list, and like a Sardanapalus, took his pastime in peace. What could he
do but sport and jest, seeing that he was then in tranquil possession of
his kingdom? But since the light shining from on high has chased away
the darkness, the prince of this world has suddenly thrown off his
lethargy and taken up arms. First, he resorted to force in order to
oppress truth; then, to stratagem to obscure and extinguish it. Oh! what
perversity to accuse the Word of God of the seditions stirred up against
it by fools and madmen!

'Ah! Sire, it is not us who stir up troubles, it is those who resist the
goodness of God. Is it likely that we, whose mouths have never uttered a
seditious word; whose lives, while we lived under your sceptre, were
always simple and peaceful, should plot the overthrowing of kingdoms?...
Now, even that we are expelled, we cease not to pray to God for the
prosperity of your reign.

'If there be any who, under colour of the gospel, stir up tumults; if
there be any who wish to conceal their carnal licence by asserting the
liberty and grace of God: there are laws and punishments ordained to
purge these offences. But let not God's gospel be blasphemed by the
evil-doings of the wicked.'

Calvin thus brings his letter to a conclusion: 'Sire,' he said, 'I have
set before you the iniquity of our calumniators. I have desired to
soften your heart, to the end that you would give our cause a hearing. I
hope we shall be able to regain your favour, if you should be pleased to
read without anger this confession which is our defence before your
Majesty. But if malevolent persons stop your ears; if the accused have
not an opportunity of defending themselves; if impetuous furies,
unrestrained by your order, still exercise their cruelty by imprisonments
and by scourging, by tortures, mutilation, and the stake ... verily,
as sheep given up to slaughter, we shall be reduced to the last
extremity. Yet even then we shall possess our souls in patience,
and shall wait for the strong hand of the Lord. Doubtless, it will be
stretched forth in due season. It will appear armed to deliver the poor
from their afflictions, and to punish the despisers who are now making
merry so boldly.

'May the Lord, the King of Kings, establish your throne in righteousness
and your seat in equity.'

Such was the noble and touching defence which a young man of twenty-six
addressed to the king of France. He heard from afar the mournful cries
of the victims; and his soul being stirred with compassion and
indignation, he appeared as a suppliant before the voluptuous prince who
was putting them to death.

After finishing an address of such rare eloquence, Calvin wrote the
date—_Basle, 1st August, 1535_, and then hastened to get the manuscript
printed.[363]

[Sidenote: PRINTING OF THE INSTITUTES.]

There was a house at Basle, on the heights of St. Pierre, known by the
sign of the _Black Bear_, where there was a printing office belonging to
Thomas Plater, the Valaisan. Calvin often went there. Plater, who had
come to Basle with Myconius, as we have seen, was at first a student,
then a professor, and finally 'the large sums gained by the
printers,'[364] had given him the desire to become a printer also. When
Calvin was looking for a publisher for his _Institutes_, the learned
Grynæus recommended Plater to him. The latter had the honour of printing
that work, and from that time Calvin kept up an occasional intercourse
with this singular man. When, some years later, Felix Plater, the son of
Thomas, who was going to study medicine at Montpelier, passed through
Geneva, Calvin, to whom he brought a letter from his father, called him
_my Felix_, and received him with much cordiality. 'I heard him preach
on Sunday morning,' said the young man in his memoirs; 'and there was a
great crowd of people.'[365]

It was, as we have said, in August 1535, that Calvin handed Thomas
Plater his epistle to Francis I. to be printed. He had written it in
French, and the French edition bears the date of the 1st of August; but
he immediately translated it into Latin and printed this version on the
23rd of the same month, which is the date of the Latin edition.[366] It
is probable that the epistle to Francis I. was printed in both
languages, and that the French text was sent to the king, and the Latin
to the German doctors, in September 1535.

Did Francis ever receive the letter? Did he listen to this admirable
apology? It is certain that his heart was not softened. It is even
possible that the pleasures and policy of the monarch made him
contemptuously throw aside this appeal from one of the poorest of his
subjects. However, nothing prevents us from believing that the king did
read it, for the style alone was worthy of a monarch's notice. Calvin's
friends, and even Calvin himself, hoped much from it. 'If the king would
but read that excellent letter,' said one of them, 'a mortal wound (or
we are greatly mistaken) would be inflicted on that harlot of
Babylon.'[367] But was an ambitious, false-speaking, and libertine king
competent to understand the noble thoughts of the reformer?

[Sidenote: CALVIN STARTS FOR ITALY.]

Calvin having published his appeal to Francis I., and perhaps ended the
correction of the proofs of the _Institutes_, thought of leaving Basle.
These publications would make a sensation; it would be known that
Catherine Klein's lodger was their author, and Calvin would find himself
courted and sought after.... 'It is not my object to display myself and
to acquire fame,' he said.[368] The fear of becoming famous induced him,
therefore, to get out of the way. He had, however, other reasons, for
quitting Basle: he felt himself drawn towards Italy. Shortly after, on
the 23rd August 1525, 'Calvin, having discharged his debt to his
country,' says Theodore Beza, set off with Du Tillet, shrinking from
eulogiums, thanks, and approbation, just as another man would shrink
from threats and violence.

[Sidenote: CALVIN'S JOURNEY TO ITALY.]

The two friends rode side by side, but their itinerary has not been
preserved. There are, as every one knows, many passes over the Alps, but
that which Calvin chose is as unknown to us as that of Hannibal—though
certainly not to be compared with it. It has been supposed that the
travellers took the road along the shores of the lake of Geneva. If they
passed through Switzerland, and purposed crossing the St. Bernard (as a
manuscript of the 17th century states), or the Simplon, or even Mount
Cenis, Calvin must have stood for the first time on the margin of those
beautiful waters. Be that as it may, he was going to pass the Alps. 'He
had a wish,' as Theodore Beza tells us, 'to know the Duchess of Ferrara,
a princess of exemplary virtue.' But other motives impelled the young
reformer. He desired to see Italy: _Italia salutanda_, as his friend
tells us. This desire of 'saluting' Italy, so common to the inhabitants
of the rest of Europe from the time when the Roman republic subjected
the nations, and which exists still in our days, Calvin felt like any
other man.

But what did he go in search of!... Whilst he was climbing the Alps and
contemplating for the first time their immense glaciers and eternal
snows, what thoughts filled his mind? There was some talk then of a
council; had that event, which seemed near at hand, anything to do with
his journey? As Vergeria had gone from Italy to Germany, in order to
support the dominion of the pope, did Calvin wish to go from Switzerland
to Italy, in order to assail it? Or attracted by the almost evangelical
reputation of Contarini, Sadolet, and other prelates, did he long to
converse with them? Did he feel the necessity of seeing closely that
papacy, with which he was to deal all his life, and did he propose to
study, like Luther, its scandals and abuses? Did he wish to carry back
the gospel to that very country to which Paul had taken it? Or was he
only attracted by classical recollections, by the learning and
civilisation of that illustrious peninsula? There was a little of all
these inducements, probably, in Calvin's wish. He desired to visit the
land of heroes, martyrs and scholars, of Renée of Ferrara, and ... of
the popes. _Italia salutanda._ But his chief thought, we cannot doubt,
was to teach the principles of the Reformation, to proclaim to Italy
that Christ had come to destroy sin, and had opened a way to the
heavenly Father for all who seek him. A catholic historian says that the
young reformer 'had conceived the design of withdrawing from their
obedience to the pope the people nearest to his throne.'[369] There is
some exaggeration in this statement, but the substance is true.

Calvin crosses the torrents, ascends the sloping valleys of the Alps,
climbs yonder high mountains which rise like impassable walls, and moves
courageously towards those Italian lands, where the men of the
Reformation are soon to be drowned in their blood, where persecution
certainly attends him, and perhaps ... death. It matters not: onward he
goes. We might say, after an historian, that like Mithridates, he
desires to conquer Rome in Rome.

Let us leave him for a moment and turn towards those countries whither
he will come again, once more crossing the Alps, on his escape from the
prisons of Italy. After wandering over the adjacent regions, let us
direct our steps towards that city which is struggling so manfully with
bishops and princes, where courageous forerunners are about to prepare
the way for him, and which is to become, through the torch that will be
lighted there some day by the hand of Calvin, the most powerful focus of
the European Reformation.

[359] Dedication of the _Institutes_.

[360] Crespin, _Martyrol._ fol. 116.

[361] Drion, _Hist. Chron._ i. p. 25.

[362] Jeremiah, ii. 13.

[363] See the Dedicatory Epistle at the beginning of all the editions of
the _Institutes_.

[364] _Vie de Thomas Plater, écrite par lui-même_, p. 110.

[365] Autobiography of Felix Plater, son of Thomas.

[366] Decimo Calendas Septembris.—Latin edition, at the head of the
_Institutes_.

[367] 'Magnum meretrici Babylonicæ vulnus illatum.'—Beza, _Vita
Calvini_.

[368] _Préface des Psaumes._

[369] Varillas, _Hist. des Hérésies_, ii. p. 994.




 BOOK V.
 STRUGGLES OF THE REFORMATION.




 CHAPTER I.
 EFFORTS IN THE PAYS DE VAUD.
 (1521.)


Struggles, political or religious, are the normal state of society and
the life of history. Their necessity in a christian point of view is
established by the highest of authorities: _I am not come to bring peace
upon earth but the sword_, said the Saviour of men;[370] and one of his
disciples sixteen centuries later, developing his master's words, added:
'As the greater part of the world is hostile to the gospel, we cannot
confess Christ without encountering opposition and hatred.'[371]

[Sidenote: USES OF OPPOSITION.]

This thought would be saddening indeed, did not experience and Scripture
teach us that opposition is often a means of developement; that the
gifts of God to man easily perish if nothing revives them; that
contradiction, resistance, and trial (thanks to the care of divine
providence) tend to civilise nations, and preserve to Christianity the
truth, morality, and life it has received from on high.

Whence proceeds this moral influence of contradiction? A principle never
evolves all that it contains, says a school, except by coming in
collision with a contrary principle. In effect, the blow which a soldier
receives on the battle-field adds to his valour. The inflexible
obstinacy of Rome in upholding all abuses, excited Luther to display
with more energy the great principles of the Reformation. And at Geneva,
it was because the huguenots had to contend perpetually against a mean
despotism in the State and an incorrigible corruption in the Church,
that their souls groaned after liberty and a better religion.

Yet contradiction is not all that is necessary: there must be
reconciliation afterwards. The twofold opposition of the huguenots
(high-minded as it was) against civil and religious despotism, would
have been ruined by its excess and would have ruined Geneva, if it had
not been moderated afterwards. It was not good for the State that 'no
one was willing to obey.'[372] It was not good for religion that
opposition to popery should consist in walking about the churches during
mass. Modern times needed, from their very cradle, authority in the
bosom of a free people, and pure doctrine in the bosom of a living
Church. God gave both to Geneva, and he did so essentially through the
Reformation.

Care must be taken, however, that we go not too far in the way of
accommodation. The Reformation must make no concessions to popery.
Whenever it has gone down that easy incline, it has left its calm
heights and fallen among quagmires which have endangered its purity and
existence.

But that was the conciliation which had to be carried out in those
times, and which ought still to be attempted in the Christendom of our
times. Between negative protestantism and Roman-catholicism there is a
middle path. On the one hand the gospel ought to supply this negative
protestantism with what is deficient in it, and on the other to take
away from Romanism whatever is erroneous in it. The huguenots, in part
at least, were transformed in the city of Calvin by the great principles
of the Reformation. It was by the potent virtue of the gospel that this
little city, which had been only an Alpine burgh, was so marvellously
metamorphosed and became in Europe the capital of a great opinion.

One circumstance, however, tended to compromise its future. The Reform
triumphed, but not without losing strength, for the sword struck foul in
the struggle. 'If a man strive for mastery, he is not crowned, except he
strive lawfully.'[373] Calvin understood better than the other reformers
the spirituality and independence of the Church; and yet giving way to
the general weakness, he had recourse to the secular arm to maintain
discipline, and was unable to prevent the death of Servetus. That fatal
stake did more injury to truth than to falsehood. From that hour, the
doctrine lost its power, a stain soiled its flag, and error seized the
advantage of slipping into the ranks of those who were summoned to
combat her. Eminent minds were seen abandoning the doctrines of the
Reformation, chiefly on account of the civil intolerance by which they
were defended. And thus a more or less culpable stagnation followed the
powerful activity and glorious battles of the primitive days of the
Reformation. There were no more combats round the expiatory cross, the
eternal Word, the fall, grace, and regeneration. No more struggles, and
therefore no more life. The christian fortress that Calvin had erected
having been assailed for two centuries, shaken and dismantled, was on
the point of being razed to the ground; when fortunately the struggles,
entirely spiritual struggles, began again, and religion was saved by
them. When God, after ploughing Europe in the early part of this century
with the terrible share of a conqueror, awoke it from its long sleep, he
remembered Geneva, and revived there as in other places doctrine and
life. That city and all Christendom are now challenged again to the old
struggles, and also to new ones, in which faith shall triumph over
absolute thoroughgoing negations, which not only deprive man of the
grace and adoption of the children of God, but deny also the
immateriality and immortality of the soul.

[Sidenote: VAUD AND GENEVA.]

We shall not begin with the struggles of the Reformation in Geneva, but
with those which were fought in a country beautifully situated between
the lakes and the mountains,—the Pays de Vaud. The country was not
large, its cities were not populous, and the names of the men who
struggled there do not occupy an important place in the annals of
nations. Let us not forget, however, that there are two kinds of
history: the stage of one is a brilliant circle, of the other a humble
sphere. The actors in the former are great personages, in the latter men
of low esteem in their own day. But is not the least sometimes the
greatest of these two kinds of history? Are not events of small
dimensions geometrically similar to great ones? Have they not often a
deeper moral significance and a wider practical influence? With truth it
may be said of the struggles of Vaud and Geneva: _Magnam causam in
parvum locum concludi_, a great cause is here confined within narrow
limits. The scenes, so modest and obscure, so full of decision and life,
which this history presents, have probably done more to found the
kingdom of truth and liberty, than the disputes and wars of powerful
potentates. Such a thought as this has been expressed, even in Paris. A
contemporary writer, after tracing in his history of the sixteenth
century an outline of the portentous future threatened by the intrigues
of the papacy, regains his courage with the words: _Europe was saved by
Geneva_.[374]

All the reformers have been men of strength; but while Luther and Calvin
have particularly contended for the principles and doctrines of the
Reformation, others, like Knox and Farel, applying themselves to the
practice, have specially undertaken to win certain countries or cities
to the gospel. The men of God, in all ages, have done both these things;
but not one of them has combined the two, like St. Paul. There were two
men in that apostle, the doctor and the evangelist. Calvin was the great
doctor of the sixteenth century, and Farel the great evangelist: the
latter is one of the most remarkable figures in the Reformation.

[Sidenote: FAREL.]

A catholic in his youth, fanatic in abstinence and maceration, Farel had
embraced salvation through grace with all the living ardour of his soul,
and from that hour everything appeared to him under a new face. His
desire to enlighten his contemporaries was intense, his heart intrepid,
his zeal indefatigable, and his ambition for God's glory without bounds.
A difficulty never stopped him; a reverse never discouraged him; a
sacrifice, even were it that of his life, never alarmed him. He was not
a great writer; in his works we meet occasionally with disorder and
prolixity; but when he spoke he was almost without an equal. The
energetic language which transported his hearers had been derived from
the writings of the prophets and apostles; his doctrine was sound, his
proofs strong, his expressions significative. Poets are made by nature,
orators by art, but preachers by the grace of God; and Farel had the
riches of nature, of art, and of grace.[375] He never stopped to discuss
idle or frivolous questions, but aimed straight at the conscience, and
exhibited before those who listened to him the treasures of wisdom,
salvation, and life that are found in the Redeemer. Full of love for
truth and hatred for falsehood, he inveighed energetically against all
human inventions. In his eyes the traditions of popery were a gulf in
which horrible darkness reigned, and hence he laboured to extricate
souls from it and plant them in the soil of God's Word. His manly
eloquence, his lively apostrophes, his bold remonstrances, his noble
images, his action frank, expressive, and sometimes threatening, his
voice that was often like thunder (as Beza tells us), and his fervent
prayers, carried away his hearers. His sermon was not a dissertation but
an action, quite as much as a battle is. Every time he went into the
pulpit, it was to do a work. Like a valiant soldier he was always in
front of the column to begin the attack, and never refused battle.
Sometimes the boldness of his speech carried by storm the fortress he
attacked; sometimes he captivated souls by the divine grace he offered
them. He preached in market-places and in churches, he announced Jesus
Christ in the homes of the poor and in the councils of nations. His life
was a series of battles and victories. Every time he went forth, it was
_conquering and to conquer_.[376]

It is very true, as we have said, that the cities where he preached were
not large capitals; but Derbe, Lystra, and Berea where St. Paul
preached, were little towns like Orbe, Neuchâtel, and Geneva. Most
assuredly the Acts of the Reformation are not the Acts of the Apostles;
there is all the difference between them which exists between the
foundation of Christianity and its reformation; but notwithstanding the
inferiority of the sixteenth century, the labours of the reformers have
a claim upon the interest of all those who love to contemplate the
humble origin of the new destinies of mankind. Is there, after the
establishment of Christianity, anything greater than its Reformation?
Have not those weak movements which began in the petty spheres in which
Farel and Calvin lived, gone on widening from age to age? Are they not
the origin of that new religious transformation which, notwithstanding
the declamations and the triumphant cries of unbelievers, is now going
on in every nation of the earth? The source of the Rhone is but a thread
of water which would pass unnoticed elsewhere; but the traveller who
stands at the foot of the huge glaciers which separate the mountains of
the Furka and the Grimsel, cannot look unmoved at that little stream,
which, issuing imperceptibly from the earth, is to become a mighty
river. The thought of what it is to be inspires the friend of nature and
of history in this sublime solitude with emotions more profound than
those excited by its copious and monotonous waters at Lyons, Beaucaire,
or Avignon. It is for this reason we dwell longer upon the origin of the
Reformation.

[Sidenote: PREPARATIONS FOR VICTORY.]

A general who desires to capture an important city, first makes sure of
his position and occupies the surrounding country: and so Farel,
desirous of winning Geneva to the gospel, first set about enlightening
the neighbouring people. His operations were not strategic certainly; he
thought only of converting souls; and yet his labours in the Vaudois
towns and villages admirably prepared the way for his successes among
the huguenots. We have already seen what he did at Aigle, Neuchâtel, and
elsewhere;[377] we must now follow him into other parts of that
picturesque country, enclosed between the pointed citadels of the Alps
and the undulating lines of the Jura, whose waters flow—some by the lake
of Neuchâtel, the Aar and the Rhine to the North Sea, others by the lake
of Geneva and the Rhone to the Mediterranean: a symbol of the spiritual
waters which, issuing from the same hills, were soon to bear light and
life to the peoples of the north and of the south.

[Sidenote: FABRI JOINS FAREL.]

Farel was inactive (a singular thing!) at the moment when we are going
to see him prepare betimes for the conquest of Geneva. Wounded near
Neuchâtel by a riotous crowd, he had been placed in a boat, and carried
across the lake to Morat, as we have said in a former work.[378] His
friends in that town had welcomed him with emotion, and kept watch
around his bed. Condemned to repose, 'shivering with cold, spitting
blood,' and scarcely able to speak, he was communing in silence with his
God when he saw a young Dauphinese of good appearance, Christopher Fabri
by name, enter his room. This Frenchman, of whom we have already spoken,
had studied medicine at Montpelier, and there received the first rays of
the gospel. Having started for Paris, in order to complete his studies
in that city, he met with some friends of the truth at Lyons, who told
him of all that was going on at Neuchâtel and its vicinity. Fabri was
greatly moved, and being a man of lively, prompt, and decided character,
he suddenly changed his route, calling, and life, and instead of going
on to Paris turned his steps to Geneva, and thence to Morat.

On arriving at that town, the student enquired after Farel, and on
presenting himself at the house, was admitted into the room where the
reformer was lying. Modestly approaching the bed, he said to him: 'I
have forsaken everything, family, prospects, and country, to fight at
your side, Master William. Here I am; do with me what seems good to
you.' Farel looked at him kindly, and ere long appreciated the young
man's lively affection and boundless devotion. He saw that they both had
the same faith, the same Saviour. As he was unmarried, he looked upon
Fabri as a son whom God had sent him,[379] and henceforward had frequent
Christian conversations with him, in which he sought to train him for
the ministry of the gospel. Farel would have liked to keep him always at
his side; but he loved Jesus Christ more than the tenderest son is
beloved; and accordingly, after a short but delightful intercourse he
asked the converted Dauphinese to go and preach the gospel at Neuchâtel.
Fabri, who had not expected so early a separation, exclaimed with tears:
'O master, my sorrow is greater to-day than when I left father and
mother, so sweet have been my conversations with you!' He obeyed,
however.

Farel was never content with sending others to battle; he burned to
return to it in person, and to lead to the heavenly King, whose servant
he was, all the population which, enclosed between the Alps and the
Jura, spoke the language of his country. He thought that if the
intelligent people placed at the gates of France were won over to the
divine Word, they would become a focus to cast the light of the gospel
into that kingdom, and an asylum where the Christians persecuted by
Francis I. might find a refuge.

A town lying at the foot of the lower slopes of the Jura attracted his
thoughts during his solitary hours at Morat: this was Orbe. The ancient
city of Urba, built, it is said, in the same century as Rome, was
situated on the Roman way that led from Italy to Gaul. Being rebuilt
later some little distance off, the kings of the first race of France,
as the people of Orbe boasted, had taken up their residence there, as
if, immediately after crossing the Jura, they had exclaimed at the
ravishing prospect of the Alps: 'It is enough! we will stop here.' A
torrent issuing from the lakes that are found in the high Jurassic
valleys plunges into the gigantic clefts of the mountain, and after
pursuing a subterranean and mysterious career, reappears on the other
slope, towards the plain, whence descending from one fall to another, it
gracefully sweeps round the beautiful hill on which the town of Orbe is
situated, surrounded with vineyards, gardens, and orchards, 'with all
kinds of plants and good things.'[380]

[Sidenote: FAREL PREACHES AT ORBE.]

A dealer in indulgences, attracted by this wealth, was just at this time
noisily selling his pardons for every offence. Farel, still detained at
Morat, hearing the sound of his _drum_, as Luther says, made an effort
to walk: he left the latter town, and proceeded to Orbe. On the next
market-day, being determined to resist the new Tetzel, he quitted his
inn and went to the market-place, where he found the indulgence-seller
offering his wares with much shouting. The monk, whose eye was always on
the watch, soon noticed in the middle of the crowd a little man with a
red beard and piercing eyes who caused him some uneasiness. Farel,
approaching slowly, took his place quietly before the stall and said to
the quack, just as an ordinary purchaser would have done, but with
concentrated anger: 'Have you indulgences for a person who has killed
his father and mother?' Without waiting for an answer, and wishing to
undeceive the superstitious crowd, he boldly stept on the basin of the
public fountain, and began to preach as if he were in the pulpit. The
astonished market-people left the monk and gathered round the new
orator, whose sonorous voice entreated the multitude to ask pardon of
the Saviour instead of buying indulgences from the monk. As the priests
and the devout were exceedingly irritated at both preaching and
preacher, Farel could not remain at Orbe; but a few drops of living
water had gushed forth, and some souls had had their thirst quenched by
them. A tradesman, Christopher Hollard by name, and one Mark Romain, a
schoolmaster, were converted to the gospel at this time.

The whole town was in commotion, and the sisters of St. Claire, as
bigoted as those of Geneva, entreated their confessor to preach against
heresy. Such a request had great weight and must be attended to, for
these sisters were held in great consideration. Philippina of Chalons,
Louisa of Savoy, recently canonised at Rome, and Yoland, grand-daughter
of St. Louis, had assumed the veil in this convent. The struggle might
take place more freely in Orbe than in many other Vaudois towns. The
Sires of Chateau-Guyon, who possessed the lordship at the time of the
war between Switzerland and Burgundy, having taken the part of Charles
the Bold, had been deprived of their possessions by the League, and the
suzerainty adjudged in 1476 to the cantons of Berne and Friburg. The
municipal magistrates, chosen from the principal burgesses or nobles of
the city, were good catholics; but the superior authority belonged to a
bailiff, living at Echallens, and who was by turns a Friburger or a
Bernese. Now Berne was zealous for the Reform. The friar-confessor, full
of confidence in himself, smiled at the flattering request the nuns of
St. Claire had made him, and having no mistrust of his eloquence, he
said to the banneret, the Sire de Pierrefleur: 'I shall _create_ these
Lutherans _anew_ in the faith, as they were before.' Noble de
Pierrefleur, a fervent catholic but a man of good sense, who knew the
firmness of the reformers and saw Berne in the background, did not
believe that the new _creation_, with which the monk flattered himself,
was such an easy thing, and answered: 'I am far from your opinion,
father, for such people have more obstinacy than knowledge, and great is
the folly of those who desire to remonstrate with them.'[381]

[Sidenote: FRIAR MICHAEL'S SERMON.]

Michael Juliani (for that was the friar's name) was not to be stopped by
this opinion, and he gave notice of his sermons against the Reform,
which were talked about all over the city. The bells rang; priests,
monks, and devotees filled the church, and even those suspected of
Lutheranism attended. The orator was filled with joy at the sight of the
unusual crowd, and his head was turned. Had not his patron saint, the
archangel Michael, armed with a golden spear, trampled Satan under his
feet; and should he not gain a similar victory? Losing all moderation,
he began to extol in the most pompous terms Rome, the priesthood, and
celibacy, and to attack the reformers with violence and abuse. Five or
six Lutherans were noticed in the church, pen in hand, writing down all
the father said on a piece of paper which they held on their knees. When
the sermon was over, the offended bailiff of Diesbach, the grand
banneret and other notables, displeased with the presumptuous discourse,
accosted the friar and begged him to desist from abusive language and to
preach simply the doctrines of the Church. But in the eyes of certain
devout folks, the greater Michael's abuse, the greater his eloquence.

The confessor, delighted at his success, and thinking, as they did in
many convents, that knowledge is a sign of the children of the devil
(Farel had studied at the university of Paris), and ignorance that of
the children of God, went into the pulpit again on the 25th March, and
took for his text: _Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the
kingdom of heaven_. 'Sirs,' he exclaimed, 'the poor in spirit here
referred to are the priests and friars. They have not much learning, I
confess, but they have what is better; they are mediators between man
and God, worshippers of the Virgin Mary, who is the treasure-house of
all graces, and friends of the saints who cure all diseases.... What
then can those want who listen to them? But who are the people who say
they are justified by faith? who are they who throw down the crosses on
our roads and in our chapels?... Enemies of Christ. What are those
priests, monks, and nuns who renounce their vows in order to
marry?—Unclean, impure, infamous, abominable apostates before men and
before God.'[382]

The friar was continuing in this strain, when suddenly a loud noise was
heard in the church. The evangelicals present had been excited at the
very commencement of the discourse; at first they had restrained
themselves, and then whispered to each other; but when the monk began to
insult those who thought (as the Bible says) that _marriage is
honourable to all men_, one of them, unable to contain himself, stood up
and before the whole assembly repeated twice and with sonorous voice,
the words: 'You lie!'... The orator stopped in amazement, and everybody
turned towards the quarter whence these words proceeded. They saw a man
of middle age standing there greatly agitated. It was Christopher
Hollard, who had been converted by Farel's first sermon, and who
combined an honest heart with a violent character. His brother, John
Hollard, the late dean of Friburg, had embraced the Reformation and
married; Christopher, fancying the monk was reflecting on his brother,
had hastened to protest, rather coarsely, it must be acknowledged, but
with the frankness of an honest heart, which sees the commandment of God
blasphemed.

[Sidenote: HOLLARD IMPRISONED.]

This exclamation had hardly resounded through the church, when a great
uproar, caused by the people, drowned the Lutheran's voice. The men who
were present would have rushed from their places upon the disturber; but
the women who filled the nave were before them. 'All with one accord
fell upon the said Christopher, tore out his beard and beat him; they
scratched his face with their nails and otherwise, so that if they had
been let alone, he would never have gone out of the said church, which
would have been a great benefit for poor catholics.'[383] Thus spoke the
grand banneret, who had lost, as it would seem, a little of the
moderation he had shown on other occasions. The castellan, Anthony
Agasse, was not of his opinion: he wanted the culprits, if there were
any, to be punished by the law and not by the populace; and rushing into
the midst of this savage scene, he rescued Hollard from the hands of the
furies, and threw him 'into a dungeon to avoid a greater scandal.'

[370] Matthew, x. 34.

[371] Calvin _in loco_.

[372] Bonivard, _Chronique de Genève_, passim.

[373] 2nd Timothy, ii. 5.

[374] Michelet, _Hist. de France au seizième siècle_.—_La Réforme_,
pp. 483, 484, 518.

[375] Ancillon, _Vie de Farel_, ch. xi.

[376] Revelation, vi. 2.

[377] _Hist. of the Reformation of the sixteenth century_, vol. iv.
bk. xv. ch. iv, vii, viii, and ix.

[378] _Hist. of the Reformation_, vol. iv. bk. xv. ch. ix.

[379] Choupard MS.

[380] See the manuscript _Mémoires du Sire de Pierrefleur, grand
banneret d'Orbe_, p. 2, published by M. Verdeil in 1856.

[381] _Mémoires du Sire de Pierrefleur_, p. 13.

[382] _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, pp. 24-28.

[383] _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, p. 16.




 CHAPTER II.
 PLOT OF THE WOMEN AGAINST REFORM; FAREL'S PREACHING.
 (1531.)


The Reformation brought great benefits to women. The divine Word which
it placed in their hands, and which it desired to see in their hearts,
would free them from the dominion of the priest to put them under that
of the Saviour; give them that meek and peaceful spirit which (as Calvin
says) becomes their sex; and substitute for a religion of external
practices an inner, holy, and useful life. However, the women, attached
to their priests and ceremonies, and who are easily aroused, were often
opposed to the Reform, of which we shall have instances.

Hollard's mother was not of this number. Strongly attached to her son,
she gave way to her maternal sorrow. Her son a prisoner, her son without
a protector, her son exposed to the vengeance of the exasperated
Roman-catholics—thoughts like these caused her the deepest anxiety. She
could think of nothing but saving him, ready to incur any danger, and to
brave even the anger of the enemies of the gospel. The bailiff of Berne,
she said to herself, alone can save Hollard. He lives at Echallens, in a
castle, surrounded with his officers; he is a haughty Bernese, a cold
diplomatist perhaps.... It matters not; the poor woman will go and
implore his help. Romain will not abandon her; if there are any
difficulties, any dangers, he will be near her; he will protect the
mother and deliver the son. Madame Hollard and the schoolmaster set off
together for Echallens, and presenting themselves at the castle, inform
the bailiff of Diesbach of the monk's insulting address and its
consequences.... O happiness! the Bernese magistrate is moved, grows
angry, and departs immediately. The lord-bailiff felt that the friar's
insults were the cause of all the disorder; that by denouncing the
married priests and monks as apostates and villains, he had attacked the
gospel and the Reformation, recognised by My Lords of Berne; and that
the friar was the person to be blamed.

[Sidenote: FRIAR MICHAEL ARRESTED.]

Arriving the same day about four o'clock, Diesbach would not go to the
guildhall or the castellan's; but sitting down in the open air near the
old castle,[384] he sent his officers to fetch Friar Juliani. The
sergeants carefully searched the convent and several houses without
finding the monk, who was hiding in the house of a woman named 'Frances
Pugin, instructress of girls in all virtue and learning.' Being informed
of the search, he took courage, left the house, and went straight to the
bailiff, who was still seated in front of the castle, waiting the result
of his enquiries. Friar Michael saluted him respectfully; but the lord
of Diesbach, rising up, caught him by the hand and said: 'I arrest you
in the name of My Lords,' and then, taking him to the prison, 'drew
Hollard out of his hole and put the said friar in his place.' Such were
the energetic proceedings of Berne.

[Sidenote: ROMAIN IS ILL-TREATED.]

Mark Romain, as pleased at having rescued his friend, 'as if he had
gained a thousand crowns, and thinking he had achieved a master-piece,'
says a contemporary, was going quietly home. Meanwhile the people,
alarmed at the arrival of the bailiff and the imprisonment of the monk,
had assembled in the market-place, and spoke of flinging the
schoolmaster into the river to punish him for having gone to fetch the
Sieur de Diesbach. Unfortunately Mark Romain came in sight just at this
moment. The townspeople, 'seeing him come joyfully along,' pointed him
out to one another. 'There he is,' they said, and began to cry: 'Master,
come here!' Romain, observing the tumult, passed suddenly from joy to
fear and took to flight, all following in pursuit. They gained upon him:
he looked from side to side to see if some door would not open to
receive him, but all remained closed. Arriving in front of the church,
he rushed into it; but had hardly set his feet inside, when he stopped
in astonishment. The women who had desired to tear Hollard to pieces
were in the church, as well as some men, on account of the _Salve
Regina_ which was said daily at five in the afternoon. Kneeling before
the altar, with clasped hands and eyes turned to the ground, they were
invoking the _Queen of heaven_: 'Hail, queen of mercy; we send up our
groans to thee! O thou who art our advocate, save us!' At the moment
when Romain entered, the women turned their heads and caught sight of
him; being suddenly changed into furies, they rushed upon him, as they
had done before upon Hollard, 'caught him by the hair, threw him on the
ground, and beat him.' The women were the champions of Catholicism in
Orbe. The grand banneret looked on quietly at this execution. 'I saw the
whole affair,' he said, 'and I did not think the schoolmaster would ever
get out alive.' Pierrefleur took care not to go to his help, and the
blows continued to fall on poor Romain, until one of his friends
arrived. 'I am certain,' says the banneret, who had seen all this
without being moved, 'that had it not been for the assistance he
received from this Lutheran, he would never have gone out of the place
until he was dead.'[385] We read in Scripture of people who ceased not
to beat St. Paul; Romain, who experienced 'this riotous and cruel rage,'
was afterwards a minister of the gospel. He was now going through his
apprenticeship.

A mob had collected round the castle in which Friar Michael was
confined, and angry voices were heard loudly demanding his liberty. At
this moment the bailiff of Diesbach came out to return to his place of
residence, having Hollard by his side, whom he was going to restore to
his mother. When he saw the crowd he was much astonished, for 'all were
crying out and demanding their good father.' 'Why have you arrested
Friar Michael?' asked some. 'Why have you delivered Christopher?' asked
others. 'By order of My Lords of Berne,' answered the imperturbable
bailiff; and then added, pointing to the lofty walls of the castle, 'If
you can set him at liberty, you may take him ... but I advise you
not.'[386] 'We will be bail for our good father, body for body, goods
for goods,' exclaimed the burgesses; but the bailiff kept on his way
without answering them.

The Sieur of Diesbach had hardly arrived at the great square, when he
perceived the ladies and other women of the city waiting for him, their
hearts full of sorrow and anguish. They all fell on their knees 'with
many tears,' and stretching their hands towards him exclaimed: 'Mercy
for the good father! set him at liberty!' These cries softened the
Bernese, he stopped and could hardly speak for emotion. He made them
understand, however, that it was not in his power to liberate Juliani,
and then returned home, for 'the hour was late.'[387]

[Sidenote: FAREL ARRIVES AT ORBE.]

The principal catholics now assembled to consider what was to be done. A
priest put in prison in Orbe, for a strictly Romish sermon.... What a
scandal! They resolved to appeal from the heretical Bernese bailiff to
the Friburgers who were good catholics. The grand banneret volunteered
for this important mission, and next day Noble P. de Pierrefleur and
Francis Vuerney set out for Friburg, where they related everything to
the council. The lords and princes of that city were much 'concerned and
vexed,' and a deputation composed of Bernese and Friburgers received
instructions to arrange the difference. But this measure, far from
diminishing the struggle, was destined to increase it. As the deputation
passed through Avenches, a Roman city older than the Cæsars, they fell
in with Farel, who for more than a month had been preaching the gospel
there, amid its ruined aqueducts and amphitheatres, and had met with
nothing but lukewarmness. Without hesitation the evangelist left
Avenches, and departing with the Bernese arrived at the banks of the
Orbe, whither the noise of battle attracted him. No ruins were to be
seen there: but seven churches and twenty-six altars testified to the
ancient splendour and Romish fervour of the city.

It was the 2nd of April, Palm-Sunday. Mass had been celebrated, the
various offices had been said, even to vespers. Farel, who had stayed
quietly in doors, observing that the service was over, left his inn
'with presumptuous boldness.' His friends followed him, idlers flocked
round him, the devout ran after, and a crowd of men, women, and children
soon filled the church with a great noise. Then 'without asking leave of
any one, Farel went into the pulpit to preach.' But he had scarcely
opened his mouth, when everybody, 'men, women, and children, hissed,
howled, and stamped with all sorts of exclamations to disconcert him.
Dog, they cried; lubber, heretic, devil, and other insults: it was a
glorious noise.' 'You really could not have heard God's thunder,' said
Pierrefleur. Farel, who was accustomed to tumult, as a soldier to the
whistling of the bullets, continued his address. Anger got the better of
some of them. 'Seeing that he would not desist, they grew riotous,
surrounded the pulpit, pulled him out of it, and would even have
proceeded to blows.' The confusion was at its height, when the bailiff,
'fearing that worse would follow,' rushed into the midst of the crowd,
took the reformer by the arm, and escorted him to his lodging.

The mixed commission was empowered to restore peace to this agitated
city; but as for Farel he had but one idea: _Woe to me if I do not
preach the gospel_. If he cannot preach it in the church, he will do so
in the open air. On the following day (Monday) he left the house of his
entertainer at six in the morning, and proceeding towards the great
square, began to preach. There was nobody present; it mattered not; he
thought that his powerful voice would soon collect a good assembly. But
satisfied with the victory of the evening before, the inhabitants of
Orbe had said to themselves that they would leave the preacher alone: he
had not a single hearer.[388] That was not, however, the only reason: a
plot was concerting against Farel—a women's plot naturally; for the men
in general were cold in comparison with the other sex.

There was a noble dame at Orbe, a native of Friburg, Elizabeth, wife of
Hugonin, lord of Arnex, an honest and devout woman, but enthusiastic,
violent, and fanatical. Elizabeth, being persuaded that the death of the
reformer would be a very meritorious work, had assembled at her house
some other bigoted women, had addressed them, and worked upon them, so
that they had agreed to beat the reformer and even kill him: they only
waited for an opportunity. The same day at four in the afternoon a city
council was held at which the deputies of Berne and Friburg and even
Farel also were present. When the council was over, the reformer came
out: it was the moment that Elizabeth and her accomplices, informed of
the circumstance, had selected to carry out their plot. A gentleman,
Pierre de Glairesse, knowing the danger the evangelist ran, quitted the
council after him, and begged permission to accompany him. Meanwhile the
women who had left their houses were waiting for Farel in the middle of
a street through which he must necessarily pass. Approaching them
without any mistrust, they fell upon him unawares, 'and took him by the
cloak _so gently_,' says the chronicler ironically, 'that they made him
stagger and fall.' They then attempted to ill-treat him and beat him;
but Pierre de Glairesse rushing in between them, took him out of their
hands, and said, bowing to them very politely: 'Your pardon, ladies; at
present he is under my charge.' They all let go of him, and Glairesse
conducted him to the inn where My Lords of Berne awaited him.

[Sidenote: FRIAR MICHAEL EXAMINED.]

While Elizabeth was trying to kill the reformer, her husband, William of
Arnex, as bigoted as herself, was pleading the cause of the monk. The
mediators had ordered that Friar Michael should be put on his trial. He
was taken to the castle in agitation and alarm, and the lords of Berne,
bringing a criminal charge against him, said: 'You asserted that the
poor in spirit are the monks.'

_Friar Michael_: 'I deny it.'

'You said that to resist the pope, the bishops, and other ecclesiastics
is resisting the commandment of God.'

_Friar._ 'I deny saying it in those terms.'

'You said that few follow the new law, except a heap of lascivious
monks.'

_Friar._ 'I deny having said it in that way, and I named nobody.'

'You said that when priests marry, the women they take are not their
wives but their harlots, and that their children are bastards.'

_Friar._ 'I confess it.'

'You said that Mary was the treasure-house of graces.'

_Friar._ 'I did.'

'You said the saints, like St. Anthony, expel and cure certain
diseases.'

_Friar._ 'I did.'

'You said that those who deny that the books of the Maccabees form part
of Holy Scripture, are heretics.'

_Friar._ 'I did.'

'You said that those who have adopted the new law have no good in them,
and deny the articles of faith.'

_Friar._ 'I did not.'[389]

This mixture of denials and confessions disarmed the judges. They
listened to the solicitations of D'Arnex and set Juliani at liberty. The
Bernese, however, bound him to preach in future nothing but the Word of
God. 'Most honoured lords,' exclaimed the poor friar, 'I have never
preached anything that is not found in the holy gospel, in the epistles
of St. Paul, or in some other part of Holy Scripture.' Friar Michael,
confounded at not gaining a triumph as striking as that of his patron
with the brilliant helmet, and fearing lest he should be sent back to
prison, thought only of saving himself. He entered the convent for a
short time, and then fled into Burgundy,[390] The deputies returned home
and Farel remained.

Shortly after Easter there came a mandate from Berne ordering that
whenever Farel desired to preach, he should be given a hearing, support,
and favour. As soon as the mandate had been read, the people, without
waiting for the opinion of the Council, exclaimed, 'Let him go about his
business, we do not want him or his preaching.' The lords of Berne
answered that Farel was to be free to speak, but that no inhabitant was
constrained to hear him. The evangelist gave notice that he would preach
on the Saturday after Quasimodo, at one o'clock, when he would expose
Juliani's errors.

[Sidenote: FAREL'S STRANGE CONGREGATION.]

The catholics, not content with the permission given them to keep away,
determined to organise a reception for Farel that should disgust him for
ever with preaching. As soon as the minister entered the church the
strangest of congregations met his eyes: all the brats (_marmaille_) of
the place were assembled; lying in front of the pulpit and all round it,
the children pretended to be asleep, snoring and laughing in their
sleeves. Farel observing three persons who appeared to be serious, went
into the pulpit and said, pointing to the little ragamuffins: 'How many
weapons Satan has provided to hinder our cause! Never mind, we must
surmount every obstacle.' Being determined to refute Friar Michael, he
began his discourse; but on a sudden the children started to their feet,
as sharp-shooters lying flat behind the bushes start up at the approach
of the enemy, and salute him with their fire. The young scamps exerted
their lungs, howling and shouting with all their might, and at last
quitted the church with a horrible uproar. 'Nobody was left but the
minister, quite amazed. And this was the first sermon preached in the
town of Orbe,' says the grand banneret maliciously.[391]

The next day, Sunday, there was a great procession. Priests, monks, and
all the parish, chanting as loud as they could, proceeded according to
custom to St. George's, outside the town. Farel profited by the
departure of the enemy to seize upon the place, and the last parishioner
had hardly crossed the threshold of the church, when he entered it,
followed by his friends, went up into the pulpit, and loudly declared
the truth. Ten evangelicals, Viret, Hollard, Secretan, Romain, and six
of their friends, composed the whole of his congregation. Meanwhile the
procession was on its way back. First appeared the children two and two,
then the exorcist with the holy water and the sprinkler, then came the
priests, magistrates, and people, all singing the litany. The children,
seeing the minister in the pulpit, and remembering the lesson they had
received, rushed into the church, whistling, howling, and shouting as on
the evening before. The priests and people who followed them made
threatening motions, and Farel, understanding that the storm was about
to burst, showed a moderation he did not always possess, came down from
the pulpit and went out.[392]

The clergy exulted: they ascribed Farel's retreat to weakness and fear,
and said openly in the city: 'The minister cannot refute the articles of
faith established by Juliani.' 'Indeed,' answered the Bernese bailiff,
'you have heard the monk and you now complain that you have not heard
the minister.... Very good! you shall hear him. It is the will of the
lords of Berne that every father of a family be required to attend his
sermon under pain of their displeasure.'

[Sidenote: FAREL ON PENANCE.]

They dared not disobey, and the church was thronged. Filled with joy at
the sight of such a congregation, Farel ascended the pulpit: never had
he been clearer, more energetic and more eloquent. He passed in review
all the subjects of which Juliani had treated; at one time attacking the
pardons which the Romish Church sells to credulous souls, at another the
doctrine which assigns the keys of heaven to St. Peter. 'The key of the
kingdom of heaven,' he said, 'is the Word of God—the Holy Gospel.' One
day Farel spoke of the stupid practices imposed upon catholics under the
name of penance. 'The penance which God demands,' he said, 'is a change
of heart, life, and conversation.'[393] Another day he battled with
indulgences: 'The pope's pardons take away _money_,' he said, 'but they
do not take away _sin_. Let every christian be aware that nobody can
escape the anger of God, except through Jesus.'[394] He thundered
against auricular confession: 'Confession in the priest's ears which the
pope commands,' he said, 'helps him to learn the secrets of kings and
aids him in catching countries and kingdoms. But how many souls have
been cast into hell by it! how many virgins corrupted! how many widows
devoured! how many orphans ruined! how many princes poisoned! how many
countries wasted! how many large establishments of men and women given
up to debauchery.... O Heaven, unveil these accursed horrors! O Earth,
cry out! Creatures of God, weep; and do thou, O Lord, arise!'[395]

Farel, without possessing the iconoclastic ardour which Hollard
displayed ere long, was indignant at the worship paid to the images of
the saints, and strove against them with the arms of the Word. 'The
people,' he said, 'set candles before the saints who are out of this
world and have nothing to do with them.... While if those saints were
alive and had need of a light to read the Gospel by, instead of giving
them candles, you would tear out their eyes!' ... Then scandalised at
the disorderly living of the world and the Church, the christian orator
exclaimed: 'Farces full of scoffing, filth, and ribaldry: obscene and
idle songs, books full of vanity, lewdness, falsehood and blasphemy,
wicked and illicit conversations ... all this is suffered openly.... But
the New Testament which contains the doctrine and passion of Christ is
forbidden, as if it were the Koran of Mahomet, or a book of witchcraft
and enchantment.... O Sun, canst thou pour thy light on such countries?
O Earth, canst thou give thy fruits to such people? And thou, O Lord
God, is thy vengeance so slow against such a great outrage? Arise, O
Lord, and let the trumpet of thy holy Gospel be heard unto the ends of
the earth.'[396]

Although the catholics were indignant, and not without reason, at the
order from Berne, which obliged them to attend the sermons opposed to
their faith, the reformer preached without difficulty the first and
second day; but on the third, the alarmed priests harangued their flocks
and thundered from their pulpits against the heretical discourses; and
from that time Farel counted few hearers in the church besides the
friends of the Gospel. The bailiff had the good sense not to observe
this disobedience.

[Sidenote: FAREL'S CARE FOR THE MINISTRY.]

The surrounding districts compensated Farel for the contempt of Orbe.
His reputation having spread into the neighbouring villages, the people
eagerly desired to hear him. Receiving message after message, and
touched at the sight of these worthy peasants knocking at his door, he
wrote to Zwingle: 'Oh! how great is the harvest! No one can describe the
ardour the people feel for the Gospel, and the tears I shed when I see
the small number of reapers.'[397] Several of the evangelicals of Orbe
asked to be sent out to preach, but Farel, thinking them not ripe
enough, refused. There were some who took offence at this, but it did
not move Farel. 'It is better to offend them,' he said, 'than to offend
God.'

Saint Paul said: _Lay hands suddenly on no man_. Farel and the other
reformers desired that the minister should honour his ministry. He
required above all things a converted heart, but that was not enough. It
is a bad sign when the Church admits into the number of those who are to
point out the gate of salvation, either men who have not passed through
it or who have not the gift of the Word, or are deficient in wisdom. But
if the leaders of the Church are faithful, God will send them true
ministers.

[384] _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, p. 17.

[385] _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, p. 19.

[386] Ibid. p. 20.

[387] _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, p. 19.

[388] _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, pp. 21, 22.

[389] 'Negat dixisse.'—_Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, pp. 24-28.

[390] _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, pp. 21-32.

[391] _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, p. 35.

[392] Ibid.

[393] _Sommaire_, &c., par G. Farel, p. 191. We give Farel's exact
expressions on the subjects handled by Juliani, just as they are found
in his writings, without being able to say that they were precisely
those he employed on this occasion.

[394] Ibid. p. 125.

[395] Farel, _Sommaire_, pp. 96, 191, 210.

[396] Ibid. p. 154.

[397] 'Quanta sit messis, quis populi ardor in Evangelium, paucis nemo
expresserit. Sed paucitatem operariorum deflere cogimur.'—_Farellus
Zuinglio_, Orba, anno 1531. _Ep._ ii. p. 648.




 CHAPTER III.
 A NEW REFORMER AND AN IMAGE-BREAKER.
 (1531.)


In 1511 William Viret, a burgess of Orbe, 'cloth-dresser and tailor,'
had a son born to him whom he named Peter. The boy had grown up in the
midst of the wool-combers, and had watched his father's workmen as they
pressed, or glossed, or fulled the cloths as they came from the hands of
the weavers. But he took no delight in this, for he was not born a
tradesman. It was the inner man that was to be developed in him: he felt
within himself a necessity for seeking God, which impelled him towards
heaven. He sought the society of the best-informed burgesses, and even
had some relations with the nobles;[398] but the first object of his
wishes was God. If he took a walk alone, or with one of his brothers
Anthony and John, along the picturesque banks of the Orbe, through the
charming country bathed by its waters, and even to the foot of the
Jura,[399] he looked around him with delight, but afterwards lifted his
eyes to heaven. 'I was naturally given to religion,' he said, 'of which
however I was then ignorant.... I was preparing myself for heaven,
seeing that it was the way of salvation.'[400] He resolved to devote
himself to the service of the altar, which his father did not oppose,
townspeople and peasantry alike regarding it as an honour to count a
priest among their children. Peter, who had a good understanding and
memory, soon learnt all that was taught in the school at Orbe, and
turned his eyes towards the University of Paris, that great light which
twelve years before had attracted Farel's footsteps. His father, whose
trade had placed him in easy circumstances, consented to send him to
Paris, whither the boy proceeded in 1523, being then a little over
twelve years of age. The same year and about the same time John Calvin
of Noyon, who was two years older than Viret, arrived in the same city
and entered the college of La Marche. Did these two boys, who were one
day to be so closely united, meet then, and did their friendship begin
with their childhood? We have not been able to satisfy ourselves on the
point.

[Sidenote: VIRET GOES TO PARIS.]

Viret distinguished himself at college by his love of study; 'he made
good progress in learning;' and also by his devotion to the practices of
the Roman Church. 'I cannot deny,' he said, 'that I went pretty deep
into that Babylon.'[401] In one of the last visits he made to Paris,
Farel seems to have remarked Viret, whose charming modesty easily won
the heart, and to have helped in freeing the young Swiss from the
darkness in which he still lay. The Gospel penetrated the soul of the
youthful scholar of Orbe almost at the same time as it enlightened the
large understanding of the scholar of Noyon. The mildness of his
character softened the struggles which had been so fierce in Farel and
Calvin. And yet he too had to tread the path of anguish to arrive at
peace. Perceiving a frightful abyss and an eternal night beneath his
feet, he threw himself into the arms of the Deliverer who was calling
him: 'While still at college,' he said, 'God took me out of the
labyrinth of error before I had sunk deeper into that Babylon of
Antichrist.'[402] The time having arrived when he should receive the
tonsure, he felt that he must make up his mind: the struggle was not a
long one; he refused, and was immediately 'set down as belonging to the
Lutheran religion.'[403] Foreseeing what awaited him, he hastily quitted
Paris and France, and 'returned to his father's house.' In after years
he exclaimed: 'I thank God that the mark and sign of the beast were not
set upon my forehead.'[404]

[Sidenote: VIRET'S STRUGGLES.]

Viret found Orbe greatly changed; the contest then going on between the
gospel and popery intimidated him at first. His was one of those
reflective souls which, absorbed by the struggles within, naturally
shrink from those without. Like other reformers, he had a difficulty in
quitting the body of catholicity, but a severe conscience obliged him to
seek truth at any sacrifice. Sometimes the Church of Rome, with all its
errors and abuses, alone struck his imagination, and he would exclaim
with emotion: 'It is the stronghold of superstition, the fortress of
Satan.'[405] Then all of a sudden and before he had time to defend
himself, the old system of catholicism resumed its power over him, and
he found himself in anguish and darkness. He struggled and prayed: the
truth, for a moment hidden, reappeared before his eyes, and he said:
'Rome asserts that antiquity is truth; but what is there older in the
world than lies, rebellion, murder, extortion, impurity, idolatry, and
all kinds of wickedness and abomination?... To follow the doctrine of
Cain and of Sodom is verily to follow an old doctrine.... But virtue,
truth, holiness, innocence, and thou, O God which art the Father of them
all, are older still!'[486]

The priests of Orbe, who were strongly attached to the Romish doctrine,
seeing the cloth-dresser's son often solitary and full of care, began to
grow uneasy about him: they accosted him and spoke of the old doctors,
of the testimony of the saints, of Augustin, Cyprian, Chrysostom, and
Jerome. These testimonies had much weight in Viret's mind. His head was
bewildered, his feet slipped, and he was on the point of falling back
into the gulf, when snatching again at the word of God, he clung to it,
saying: 'No, I will not believe because of Tertullian or Cyprian, or
Origen, or Chrysostom, or Peter Lombard, or Thomas Aquinas, not even
because of Erasmus or Luther.... If I did so, I should be the disciple
of men.... I will believe only Jesus Christ my Shepherd.'[407]

At length the divine Word delivered Viret from the theocratic dominion
of Rome, and he then began to look around him.... Alas! what did he see?
Chains everywhere, prisoners held fast 'in the citadel of idolatry.' He
felt the tenderest affection for the captives 'Since the Lord has
brought me _out_' he said, 'I cannot forget those who are
_within_.'[408] Two of these prisoners were never out of his thoughts:
they were his father and mother. At one time absorbed by the cares of
business, at another mechanically attending divine service, they did not
seek after the one thing needful. The pious son began to pray earnestly
for his parents, to show them increased respect, to read them a few
passages of Holy Scripture, and to speak gently to them of the Saviour.
They felt attracted by his conduct, and the faith he professed took hold
of their hearts. The grateful Viret was able to say: 'I have much
occasion to give thanks to God in that it hath pleased him to make use
of me to bring my father and mother to the knowledge of the Son of
God.... Ah! if he had made my ministry of no other use, I should have
had good cause to bless him.'[409]

As soon as Viret met Farel again at Orbe, he immediately became one of
the evangelist's hearers, and ere long took his father along with him.
The most intimate union sprung up between these men of God. One
completed the other. If Farel was ardent, intrepid, and almost rash,
Viret 'had a wondrously meek temper.'[410] There was in him a grace that
won the heart, and a christian sensibility that was really touching; and
yet, like Farel and Calvin, he was firm in doctrine and morals. Farel,
always eager to send workmen into the harvest, persuaded his friend to
preach not only in the country but in Orbe itself. The young and timid
Viret recoiled from the task Farel proposed to him; but the reformer
pressed him, as others had pressed Luther and Calvin; he believed that
Viret, who belonged to the city, and was loved by everybody, would
receive a favourable welcome. The thought of the divine grace, the
strength of which he knew, decided Viret. 'Let it not be my mouth which
persuades,' he said, 'but the mouth of Jesus Christ; for it is Jesus
Christ who pierces the heart with the fiery arrow of his Spirit.'[411]

[Sidenote: VIRET PREACHES AT ORBE.]

On the 6th May 1531 an unusual crowd, not only of townspeople but of
persons from the neighbourhood, filled the church of Orbe; the son of
one of the most respected of the burgesses, a child of the place, was to
enter the pulpit. He was accused of being rather heretical, but he was
so inoffensive, that nobody would believe it; and besides, many of the
young folks of Orbe, who had sported with him on the banks of the river,
wished to see their old playfellow in the pulpit. The congregation, who
were waiting impatiently, saw the young man appear at last: he was of
small stature and pale complexion, his face thin and long, his eyes
lively, and the whole expression meek and winning;[412] he was only
twenty years old, but appeared to be younger still. He preached: his
sermon was accompanied by so much unction and learning, his language was
so persuasive, his eloquence so searching and penetrating, that even the
most worldly men were attracted by his discourse and hung, as it were,
upon his lips.[413] The proverb 'No man is a prophet in his own country'
was not exemplified in Viret's case. The 6th of May was a great day for
him. All his life through he preserved the recollection of his first
sermons. Thirty years later he said to the nobles and burgesses of Orbe:
'Your church was the first in which God was pleased to make use of my
ministry, when it was still in its youth, and I was very young.'[414]

From that day Viret took his place in that noble army of heralds of the
Word which the Lord was raising among the nations. His part in it was
modest but well marked. The college of reformers, as well as the college
of the apostles, contained the most different characters. As the sap is
everywhere the same in nature, the Spirit of God is everywhere the same
in the Church; but everywhere alike each of them produces different
flowers and different fruits. The ardent Farel was the St. Peter of the
Swiss Reform, the mighty Calvin the St. Paul, and the gentle Viret the
St. John.

[Sidenote: CONVERSION OF ELIZABETH D'ARNEX.]

Farel, Viret, Romain, Hollard, and the other evangelicals waited for the
effects of the preaching at Orbe. They saw clearly 'some slight touches
and pricks, but few persons had been wounded and pierced to the quick,'
and so overwhelmed with the feeling of everlasting death, that they
thought of looking for help solely to the grace of Jesus Christ. All of
a sudden, and a month only after Farel's arrival, the report of an
unexpected conversion filled Orbe with astonishment, and became the
subject of general conversation. It was said—and he who repeated it
could hardly believe it—that Madame Elizabeth, the wife of the lord of
Arnex, the very same who had planned the women's conspiracy and so
severely beaten Farel, was entirely changed; that even her husband, who
had become bail for Juliani, and had set him at liberty, had changed
likewise. The bigots of both sexes could not deny the fact. 'Really,'
they said, 'she has become one of the worst lutherans in the city.' Not
long after, they made a great noise because at All Saints or some feast
of Our Lady, Elizabeth had a large wash or other manual labours at her
house.[415] They shook their heads, shrugged their shoulders, and
smiled. The evangelicals did not imitate them: they thought, to borrow
the language of one of their leaders, that though these iron-hearted
people smiled, it was a forced smile,[416] for they felt as if inwardly
choking.... They knew that God's word is a hammer, and that there is
nothing so hard, so massive, or so hidden in the heart of man that its
power cannot reach.... Had not Paul been a persecutor like Elizabeth and
Hugonin?

Worse still, at least in the opinion of the catholics, happened ere
long. One of the ecclesiastics of the place was George Grivay, surnamed
Calley, an excellent musician who had been appointed precentor. He had
been trained by a fervent catholic mother, and had received a good
education in the church.[417] In order to receive further instruction
his parents had sent him to Lausanne, where he had been made chorister
and had particularly improved in the knowledge of music. On his return
to Orbe the nobles and priests had given him a flattering reception; and
he deserved it, for he enchanted the people by his singing or
electrified them by his discourses. But on the 10th May 1531, the same
month in which Viret delivered his first sermon, Grivat had gone up into
the pulpit and astonished his hearers by preaching the evangelical
doctrine in the clearest manner. This was too much; his father and his
brothers were in despair; nobles and friends who had received him so
well exclaimed in great irritation: 'Have we not given him good wages;
has not the Church fed and taught him? and now he wants to imitate the
cuckoo that eats the mother who reared it.'[418]

[Sidenote: LORD'S SUPPER AT ORBE.]

As these successive conversions gave the evangelicals more courage, they
took an important step. Feeling the necessity of being strengthened in
the faith by the celebration of the Lord's Supper, they asked for it,
and Farel, who was then at Morat, immediately returned to Orbe. On
Whitsunday (28th May) at six in the morning—an hour selected to insure
tranquillity for the act they were about to perform—he announced to a
numerous assembly collected in the church the remission of all sins by
the breaking of Christ's body on the cross; and as soon as the sermon
was ended, eight disciples came forward to break bread. They were
Hugonin of Arnex and his wife, C. Hollard and his aged mother, Cordey
and his wife, William Viret, Peter's father, and George Grivat,
afterwards pastor at Avenches; many of the evangelicals did not think
themselves sufficiently advanced in the faith to take part in this act,
and doubtless Peter Viret was absent. Two of the eight disciples
modestly spread a white cloth over a bench, on which they placed the
bread and wine. Farel sank on his knees and prayed, all following his
prayer in their hearts. When the minister rose up he asked: 'Do you each
forgive one another?'... and the believers answered Yes. Next Farel
broke off a morsel of bread for each, saying he gave it them in memory
of Christ's passion, and after that he handed them the cup. The minister
and these true disciples possessed by faith the real presence of Jesus
in their hearts. They had hardly finished when the exasperated priests
entered the church hastily and sang the mass as loud as they could. The
next day, Whitmonday, there was a fresh scandal: the evangelicals were
at work. 'Ha!' said many indignantly; 'they keep no holiday, _except the
Sunday_!'[419]

If the evangelisation had continued in a peaceful course of christian
edification, the city would in all probability have been entirely gained
over; but the Reformation had its 'enfants terribles.' Calvin said in
vain: 'Those who are wise according to God are modest, peaceable, and
gentle. They do not conceal vices; they endeavour rather to correct
them, but provided it be in peace, that is to say, with so much
moderation that unity remains unbroken. Peaceable and loving
representations ought not to be laid aside, and those who desire to be
physicians must not be executioners.'[420]

A fine stone crucifix in St. Germain's cemetery had been thrown down,
and another, which stood at a cross road near the city, had been
destroyed: but this had been done at night and it was not known by whom.
Ere long the ardent reformers grew bolder, and especially Christopher
Hollard, a true iconoclast of the Reform, who thought more of pulling
down than of building up. One day, as Farel was preaching before the
deputies of Berne and Friburg, Hollard flew at an image of the Virgin
and dashed it to pieces. Another day he threw down the great altar of
the church of Our Lady. This was not enough.

According to Hollard, whose mind was upright, and even pious, but
ardent, extreme, and rather deficient in judgment, the Reformation, that
is to say, the destruction of images and altars, did not go on fast
enough, and he therefore resolved to carry it out on a grand scale. He
took twelve companions with him; and these agents of the judgments of
God (as they thought themselves), going from street to street and from
church to church, 'pulled down all the altars' in the seven churches of
the city; twenty-six heaps of rubbish bore witness to their triumph.
They could say, no doubt, that all worship paid to an image is a relic
of paganism; but their fault was to suppose that catholics ought to
adore God, not according to their catholic conscience, but according to
that of the reformed protestants. The people looked at each other with
alarm, but said nothing. 'I was greatly astonished,' says De
Pierrefleur, 'at the patience of the populace.' 'Sir banneret,' observed
some catholics, 'if we did not feel great loyalty towards our lords of
Berne, the body of Christopher Hollard would not have touched earth;'
that is to say, they would have hanged him. These combatants were pretty
well matched for gentleness. The catholics set up tables in the place of
the altars, upon which they celebrated mass 'rather meanly.'[421]

[Sidenote: ARREST OF THE PRIESTS.]

The intolerance of Christopher Hollard and of one of his friends, named
Tavel, threatened to substitute a new tyranny for the ancient tyranny of
popery. Alas! the protestant clergy have sometimes been known to oppose
the disciples and doctrines of the gospel, just as the Romish clergy
would have done. Intolerance is a vice of human nature which even piety
does not always cure. The priests saying mass at their little tables
offended Hollard and Tavel. Agasse was no longer governor; he had been
removed by the influence of Berne, and Anthony Secretan, one of the
reformed, put in his place. The two fiery Lutherans laid a complaint
before him against all priests as being murderers (of souls); and
according to the custom of the age, surrendered themselves prisoners.
The governor ordered the Roman ecclesiastics to be arrested, which was
no easy matter, for there were some sturdy fellows among them. Three
sergeants having attempted to seize Messire Pierre Bovey in the street,
the stout priest 'dragged them into the passage of a house,' and there
beat them so that they were glad to escape out of his hands. Having thus
defended himself like a lion, he remained free; but it was not so with
Blaise Foret, the curé, who 'went like a sheep straight to prison.' The
officers put him along with the rest, who were 'well treated at bed and
board, with permission to go all over the castle.'[422] Some bold
priests (for they were not all shut up) chanted mass at five o'clock in
the morning, notwithstanding the prohibition. The catholics attended
'armed with pikes, halberds, and clubs; and rang the bells as if the
city were on fire'. Before long the intolerant protestants received a
severe and well merited lesson.

[Sidenote: RELEASE OF THE PRIESTS.]

The grand banneret Pierrefleur, who was a man of the world, well read,
of a cultivated mind, charming simplicity, and profound intelligence,
combined great decision of character with Vaudois good-temper. Being a
catholic from conviction, and knowing that the majority of the
inhabitants were for the Roman faith, and disgusted at seeing the
priests in prison and the faithful compelled to hear mass almost in
secret, he summoned a general council of the people. 'Will you,' he
asked them, 'will you have the mass, and live and die in the holy faith,
like your forefathers? If you do wish it, let every one hold up his
finger, and if perchance there should be any one of a contrary opinion,
let him leave the assembly.' Every one raised his finger in token of an
oath, whereupon the Friburgers sent a herald to Orbe. The priests were
taken out of prison, and those who had helped to pull down the altars
were put in their place. There were fifteen in all, and among them was
Elizabeth's husband, the noble Hugonin of Arnex. They were not so well
treated at 'bed and board' as the priests had been, but were put on
bread and water; after three days, however, they were allowed to return
home.[423] During this time the priests and fervent catholics were
restoring the altars everywhere. It required more than twenty years for
the Reform in Orbe to recover from the blow inflicted on it by the
intolerance of Hollard and his friends. It was not until 1554 that an
assembly of the people decided by a majority of eighteen votes in favour
of the establishment of evangelical worship. The priests, nuns, and
friars then left the city for ever, amid the tears of their
supporters.[424]

[398] 'Moy qui suis nay, et ay esté dès mon enfance nourry au milieu de
vous.'—_Ep. de Viret aux nobles et bourgeois d'Orbe_, p. 13.

[399] These districts have been admirably described in a recent
work—_Horizons prochains_.

[400] _Disputations Chrestiennes_, par Pierre Viret, Geniève, 1544.
_Préface._

[401] Ibid. _Préface._

[402] _Disputations Chrestiennes. Préface._

[403] _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, p. 37.

[404] _Disputations Chrestiennes. Préface._

[405] 'Arcem illam superstitionis et idolatriæ, et Satanæ propugnacula.
Viret, _De verbi Dei ministerio_, Senatui Lausan. Ep.

[406] _Disp. Chrest._ p. 9.

[407] Ibid. pp. 195-6.

[408] _Disp. Chrest._ Préface.

[409] Viret: _Du vrai ministère de la vraye Eglise de Jésus-Christ_.
Préface.

[410] Théod. de Bèze.

[411] Viret: _Du vray ministère_, pp. 47, 57.

[412] 'Fuit corpusculo imbecillo, moribus suavis.'—Melchior Adam,
_Vitæ erudit_.

[413] 'Oris præcipue facundia excellens, ut homines etiam religioni
minus addictos, faciles tamen auditores habuerit, cum omnes ab ejus ore
penderent.'—Ibid.

[414] _Du combat des hommes contre leur propre salut_, pp. 7-8.

[415] _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, pp. 133-134.

[416] Un ris d'hôtellier.

[417] _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, p. 263.

[418] _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, p. 41.

[419] We are indebted to the catholic Pierrefleur for these particulars.
_Mémoires_, p. 44.

[420] Calvin, _Op._ S. Jacques, iv. 18.

[421] _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, pp. 41-42, 50-51.

[422] _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, pp. 52-53.

[423] _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, p. 56.

[424] 'Vicerunt nostrioctodecim suffragiis.'—Viret to Calvin, 11th
August, 1554. See also Pierrefleur, p. 297.




 CHAPTER IV.
 THE BATTLES OF GRANDSON.
 (1531-1532.)


Farel's zeal was not cooled by the check he had received at Orbe; he saw
before him other places that must be evangelised. If he withstood the
ambitious demands of the new converts who, like Hollard, fancied
themselves more capable than they really were, and indiscreetly sought
for consecration to the holy office, he did but seek with more zeal for
servants of God, who possessed a spirit of strength, charity, and
prudence. Certain men appeared to him to have been ripened in France by
persecution. He invited into Switzerland Toussaint, Lecomte,
Symphoranus, Andronicus, and others. As soon as these brethren arrived,
he sent them into the harvest;[425] and frequently after fervent prayers
he seemed to see the whole valley enclosed between the Jura and the Alps
filled with the living waters of the Gospel. 'Of a truth,' said he, 'if
we look at the times that have gone before, the work of Christ is
glorious now.... And yet what roots remain to be torn up before the
field is ready to receive the divine seed.[426] What works to be
accomplished, what toils to be endured, what enemies to be overcome!...
We have need of labourers inured to labour.... I cannot promise them
mountains of gold,[427] but I know that the Father will never abandon
His own, and that He will give them an abundant harvest.'

[Sidenote: MALADY OF PETTY QUESTIONS.]

In Farel's heart overwhelming depression often followed close upon the
fairest expectations. One sorrow especially afflicted him: the malady of
petty questions seemed threatening to invade the new Church. At all
times narrow and ill-balanced minds attach themselves to certain details
in the doctrine of baptism, the Lord's Supper, the ministry, and so
forth: they are eager about _anise and cummin_[428] and by their minutiæ
encumber the kingdom of Christ. Farel, who with a holy doctrine and
unwearied activity combined a wise discernment and a large liberal
spirit, trembled lest this weakness of little understandings had crept
into the minds of the ministers to whom he addressed his call. There
happened to be at Strasburg just then a christian man named Andronicus,
whom the reformer desired to attract into Switzerland; but he wished to
know whether he was tainted with formalism or fanaticism—two evils which
sometimes met on the banks of the Rhine. He resolved to speak frankly to
him, and his letter shows us his opinion of the ministry: 'Dear
brother,' he wrote to Andronicus, 'do you possess Christ so as to teach
Him purely, apart from the empty controversies of _bread_ and _water_,
_taxes_ and _tithes_, which in the eyes of many constitute
Christianity?[429] Are you content to require of all that, renouncing
ungodliness and unrighteousness, they should arm themselves with faith,
and press to their hearts the heavenly treasure, Christ who sitteth at
the right hand of the Father? Are you ready to give to all authorities
what is their due—taxes, tithes—to pay them not only to the ungodly, but
also to the brethren? Do you seek Christ's glory only? Do you propose
simply to plant in their hearts the faith that worketh by charity? Are
you resolved to bear the cross? for, be assured, the cross awaits you at
the door. If you are ready to bear it, then, dear brother, come
instantly.' Such was the wise language of the most ardent of the
reformers.

[Sidenote: FAREL'S MODE OF RECRUITING.]

While Farel was thus loudly calling for new workers, he was getting rid
of the idle and cowardly, promising to all of them fatigue, insult, and
persecution: it was with such promises that the reformer levied his
soldiers. 'Do not look for idleness, but for labour,'[430] he said;
'only after fatigue will you find repose, and you will not reap until
after you have sown at your own cost. A wide door is opened, but no one
can enter except those who desire to feed the sheep and not to devour
them, and who are determined to reply with kindness to the insults with
which they are assailed. Labour and toil await you.[431] I can promise
you nothing but trouble.... If you will come with us, know that you are
entering into a hard service. You will have to fight not against craven
and disheartened adversaries, but against enemies brimful of decision
and strength. Be therefore a brave and noble soldier; attack the enemy
joyfully, and rush into the hottest of the fight, placing your
confidence in God, to whom alone belong the battle and the victory. It
is not we who fight, but the Lord.'[432]

But Farel called to the battle in vain: the timid recruits would not
join the army. He received some little help indeed, but what was that
for so great a work? Then his appeals grew louder. In the presence of
the gigantic Alps, this humble man rose like them: his language swelled
and resembled rather the cry of a soldier struggling in the midst of the
enemy's ranks, than the sweet and subtle voice of the Gospel of peace.
'We are in the thick of the fight,' he said; 'the conflict is terrible;
we are fighting man to man ... but the Lord giveth the victory to his
own.[433] Take up the sword, set the helmet on your head, buckle on the
breastplate, hang the shield to your arm, gird your loins; and being
thus armed with the panoply of God, rush into the midst of the battle,
hurl the darts, throw down the enemy on every side, and put all the army
to flight.[434]... But alas! instead of joining the soldiers of Christ,
instead of rushing into the Lord's battles, you fear the cross, and the
dangers that lie in wait for you. Preferring your own ease, you refuse
to come to the assistance of your brethren.... Is that the behaviour of
a christian?... The Holy Scriptures declare that the Lord will exact a
severe reckoning for such cowardice.... Beware lest you bury the talent
you have received.... Call to mind that you must give an account of all
those souls, whom tyranny holds captive in its gloomy dungeons. You can
set the light before their eyes, you can deliver them from their chains,
you must conjure them to throw themselves into the arms of Jesus
Christ.... Do not hesitate.... Christ must be preferred to everything.
Do not trouble yourself about what your wife wishes and requires, but
about what God asks and commands.'[435] More powerful solicitations had
never been made; there was a new Paul in the world at this time. At last
Farel's earnestness prevailed. Andronicus and others hastened to him,
and laboured with him in the country that stretches from Basle and Berne
as far as Geneva.

[Sidenote: FIRST BATTLE OF GRANDSON.]

Delighted at receiving such helpers, the reformer hastened to fresh
combats. Every parish, village, and town was to be won to Christ by an
obstinate struggle. There is no soldier that has fought more battles. We
can only find a parallel to Farel in the convert of Damascus. He took
with him De Glautinis, minister of Tavannes, in the Bernese Jura, who
had come to his help, and quitted Orbe, leaving on his left the
picturesque gorge of the Jura, where the village of St. Croix lies hid,
and over which soar the lofty tops of the Chasseron, and turned his
steps towards Grandson. Ere long he came in sight of the celebrated
walls of the old castle which stood near the extremity of the lake of
Neuchâtel. This place, which was about to become an evangelical
battle-field, had witnessed a far different struggle. Here, in 1476, the
Swiss had rushed from the heights of Champagne and Bonvillars, while the
terrible roaring of the bull of Uri portended death, and the cow of
Unterwald uttered its warning sound.[436] Here they bent the knee in
presence of the hostile columns, and rising with shouts of '_Grandson!_'
playing their fearful music, unfurling their ancient banners, and
guarding them with their long and formidable spears, they charged the
Burgundians with the rush of the tempest. Vainly did the commander of
the cavalry, Sire Louis of Château-Guyon, brother of the Prince of
Orange and of the Lord of Orbe and Grandson,—vainly did he spur his
large war-horse and charge impetuously at the head of six thousand
horsemen; vainly did he seize the banner of Schwytz, In der Gruob of
Berne had given him a death-blow, and the Burgundians, as they saw the
gigantic warrior fall, were struck with terror. Grandson as well as Orbe
were lost to the family of that hero, and the sovereignty of the two
towns passed to the cantons of Berne and Friburg. A panic spread through
the ranks, and Charles the Bold was forced to fly, leaving behind him
four hundred silk tents embroidered with gold and pearls, six hundred
standards, and an immense quantity of plate, money, jewels, and precious
stones. This vigorous attack and glorious victory, the fame of which
still remained in that peaceful country, was a type of the work that
Farel was to accomplish. By his means, Berne was about to strike at
Grandson as well as Orbe a more formidable enemy than the Lord of
Château-Guyon.[437]

On the shore of the lake at the entrance of the town stood the vast
convent of the Gray Friars. Farel and his friend De Glautinis, who
accompanied him, stopped before its walls and said to each other that to
this place doubtless the Lord had first directed their steps. They rang,
entered the parlour, and the superior of the monastery, Friar Guy Regis,
having asked them what they wanted, they begged him very coolly 'in the
name of the Lords of Berne,' to grant them the use of the church. But
Guy Regis, a resolute man and earnest priest, who knew all that had
happened at Orbe, was offended at such insolence. 'Heretic!' said he to
Farel. 'Son of a Jew!' exclaimed another monk. The reception was not
encouraging. The two ministers discussed with some friends of the Word
of God, what was to be done. 'Go to the priory on the hill,' said the
latter. 'As you bear a letter from Messieurs of Berne for the prior, the
monks will not dare refuse you.'

[Sidenote: THE BENEDICTINE CONVENT.]

Accordingly Farel, De Glautinis, and a few of the brethren, proceeded to
the Benedictine convent. They knocked and the door was opened; several
monks appeared. As they knew already something about the arrival of the
missionaries, they looked at them from head to foot, and Farel had
scarcely asked permission to preach, when a loud uproar arose in the
cloister. The sacristan hid a pistol under his frock, another friar
armed himself with a knife, and both came forward stealthily to lay
hands upon the _heretic_ who (according to them) was disturbing all the
churches. The sacristan arrived first; pointing the pistol at Farel with
one hand, he seized him with the other, and pulling him along,
endeavoured to drag him into the convent, where a prison awaited him. De
Glautinis observing this, sprang forward to rescue his friend, but the
other monk, arriving at the scene of combat, fell upon him, flourishing
his knife. Alarmed by the noise within the cloister, the friends of the
evangelists, who had remained at the door, waiting to know whether they
could hear Farel or not, rushed in and tore both him and his comrade
from the stout arms of the monks. The gates of the monastery were closed
immediately, and they remained so for a whole fortnight, so great was
the terror inspired by the reformers.

Farel seeing there was nothing to be done at Grandson just then,
departed for Morat, beseeching De Glautinis, whom he left behind him, to
take advantage of every opportunity to proclaim the gospel. The monks
entrenched within their walls, trembled, deliberated, kept watch, and
armed themselves against this one man, as if they had an army before
them. Convent gates and church doors were all close shut. De Glautinis,
finding that he could not preach in the churches, determined to preach
in the streets and in private houses; but he had hardly begun when the
monks, informed by the signals of their agents whom they had instructed
not to lose sight of the evangelist, made a vigorous sally. Guy Regis,
the valiant superior of the Gray Friars, the precentor, and all the
monks came to the place where De Glautinis was preaching, and boldly
placed themselves between him and his hearers: 'Come,' said the
superior, 'come, if you dare, before the king or the emperor. Come to
Besançon, to Dôle, or to Paris; I will show you and all the world that
your preaching is mere witchcraft. Begone, we have had enough of you.
You shall not enter the churches.' As soon as this harangue was over,
the monks capped it by roaring out: 'Heretic, son of a Jew, apostate!'
The troop having thus fired their volley, hastily retreated within their
walls.[438]

Some Bernese deputies, who chanced to be at Neuchâtel, hearing what was
going on at Grandson, went thither without delay. They did not wish to
force the people to be converted, but they desired that all under their
rule should hear the gospel without hindrance, and thus have liberty to
decide with full knowledge for Rome or for the Reformation. When the
Bernese lords arrived at Grandson, which is not far from Neuchâtel, they
ordered the conventual churches to be thrown open to the reformers. A
messenger was sent to Farel, who returned immediately, bringing Viret
with him, and from the 12th May the three evangelists began to preach
Sundays and week-days. The monks, surprised, irritated, and yet
restrained by fear of their dread lords, looked with gloomy eyes on the
crowd that came to hear the _heresy_. The superior of the Gray Friars,
who had a great reputation for learning, thought himself called upon to
resist the reformers. They had hardly left the pulpit when he entered
it, and thus Farel and Guy Regis attacked and refuted each other,
struggling, so to say, hand to hand. The evangelist preached grace, the
monk prescribed works; the former reproached his opponent with
disobeying Scripture, the latter reproached the other with disobeying
the Church. The monks went further still: they conjured the magistrates
to come to the defence of the faith, and the latter outlawed the
ministers, while the sergeants arrested them. The populace, seeing them
in the hands of the officers, followed them and covered them with abuse,
and they were shut up in prison.[439]

Thus the struggle descended to the people and grew all the warmer.
Parties were formed, bands were organised. The catholics, in order to
distinguish themselves, stuck fir-cones in their caps, and thus adorned
stalked proudly through the streets. Their adversaries said to them as
they passed: 'You insult Messieurs of Berne;' to which they arrogantly
answered: 'You shall not prevent us.'

[Sidenote: REINFORCEMENT FROM YVERDUN.]

The inhabitants of Yverdun, a neighbouring town, which eagerly espoused
the cause defended by Guy Regis, organised, not a troop of soldiers, but
a procession. It quitted the town and passed along the shore of the
lake; clerical banners instead of military colours waved above their
heads, sacred chants instead of drums and trumpets filled the air. At
last this curious reinforcement reached the city where such a fierce
struggle was going on. The catholics no longer doubted of victory. Men's
minds grew heated and their passions were inflamed. Farel and his
friends, having been set at liberty, a black friar named Claude de
Boneto stuck to the reformer and loaded him with abuse. The latter
undismayed said: 'Christians, withdraw from the pope who has laid
insupportable burdens on your back, which he will not touch with the tip
of his finger. Come to Him who has taken all your burden and placed it
on his own shoulders. Do not trust in the priests or in Rome. Have
confidence in Jesus Christ.'[440] The council of Berne took up the
defence of the evangelist, and condemned friar Boneto.[441]

As the support of Yverdun had produced no effect, help was sent from
Lausanne. On St. John's day (24th June) a cordelier arrived at Grandson
to preach in honour of the saint. The church of the Franciscans was soon
crowded, and Farel and De Glautinis were in the midst of the throng. The
strange things which the preacher said filled them with sorrow;
presently the reformer stood up, and (as was the custom of the times)
began to refute the monk. The latter stopped, and the eyes of the
assembly were turned upon the minister with signs of anger. The bailiff,
John Reyff of Friburg, a good catholic, unable to restrain himself,
raised his hand and struck Farel. This was the signal for a battle.
Judges, gray friars, and burgesses of Grandson, who had come armed to
the church, fell upon the two ministers, threw them to the ground, and
showered blows and kicks upon them. Their friends hastened to their
help, flung themselves into the midst of the fray, and succeeded in
rescuing the reformers from the hands of the riotous crowd, but not
before they had been 'grievously maltreated in the face and other
parts.' The grand banneret of Orbe saw it, and it is he who tells the
story.[442]

[Sidenote: THE SENTINELS.]

The evangelicals lost no time: one of them started off at once to see
the Sieur de Watteville, the avoyer of Berne, who chanced to be at his
estate of Colombier, three leagues from Grandson. That magistrate went
to the town, and wishing to put the inhabitants in a position to
exercise the right of free enquiry, according to the principles of
Berne, he ordered the cordelier and Farel to preach by turns, and then
went to the church, attended by his servant, with the view of hearing
both preachers. But there was something else to be done first. The
people were still agitated with the emotions of the preceding day, and
pretended that the reformers wanted to pull down the great crucifix,
which was much respected by all the city. Two monks, Tissot and Gondoz,
were distinguished by their zeal for the doctrines of the pope; sincere
but fanatical, they would have thought they were doing God a service by
murdering Farel. They had been posted as sentinels to defend the image
supposed to be threatened. Armed with axes hidden under their frocks,
they paced backwards and forwards, silent and watchful, at the foot of
the stairs which led to the gallery where the famous crucifix stood.
When the Lord of Berne appeared, one of the sentinels, seeing a strange
face, which had an heretical look about it, stopped him abruptly. 'Stand
back, you cannot pass this way,' he said, while his comrade rudely
pushed the Sieur de Watteville. 'Gently,' said the avoyer in a grave
tone; 'you should not get in such a heat.' The patrician's serving-man,
exasperated at this want of respect to his master, and less calm than he
was, caught the cowled sentinel round the body, and feeling the axe
under his frock, took it away and was about to strike him with it, when
the Bernese lord checked him. All the monks fled in alarm, and De
Watteville remaining master of the ground, placed his servant there on
guard. The latter, stalking up and down with the axe on his shoulder,
kept watch instead of the monks.

He had been there only a few minutes, when about thirty women, with
flashing eyes and sullen air, each holding her serge apron gathered up
in front, made their appearance and endeavoured to get into the gallery.
Some had filled their aprons with mould from their gardens, and others
with ashes from their kitchens, and with these weapons they were
marching to battle. Their plan was not, indeed, to engage in a regular
fight, but to lie in ambush in the gallery near the pulpit; and then as
soon as Farel appeared, to throw the ashes into his eyes and the earth
into his mouth, and so silence the fearless preacher of the Gospel. This
was their notion of controversy. The troop approached: the avoyer's
serving-man, firm as became a servant of my lord of Berne, was still
pacing to and fro, axe in hand. He perceived the feminine battalion,
immediately saw what was their intention, and advanced brandishing the
weapon he had taken from the monks. The devotees of Grandson, seeing a
Bernese instead of a gray friar, were alarmed; they shrieked, let go
their aprons, suffered the mould and ashes to fall upon the floor of the
church, and ran off to their homes.

[Sidenote: CONVERSION OF THE MONKS.]

The conspiracies of the monks and of the women being thus baffled, the
Bernese magistrate did not take advantage of it to make Farel preach
alone. He wished the balance to be even. The gray friar therefore and
the reformer quietly took their turns. Tissot and Gondoz, who had
stopped De Watteville, were imprisoned for a fortnight. The two monks,
recovering from their passion, began to consider what this _Lutheran
doctrine_ could be which possessed such stanch adherents. The reformers
visited them, and showed them much affection. The monks were touched,
they saw that the heresy of which they had been so afraid was simply the
all-merciful Gospel of Jesus Christ. They left the prison with new
thoughts, and two years later, says the banneret, 'they received the
Lutheran law, were made preachers, one at Fontaines, the other at
Chavornay, married, and had a large family of children.' In the days of
the Reformation, as in those of the apostles, it was often seen that
those who 'kicked against the pricks' obtained mercy and became heralds
of the faith.[443]

A last tumult was to cause the principles of religious liberty to be
proclaimed in Switzerland. It occurred at Orbe during the Christmas
holidays. The catholics, proud of the midnight devotions customary among
them at that season of the year, insulted the reformed: 'Go to bed,'
they said; 'while we are singing the praises of God in the church you
will be sleeping in your beds like swine.'... The reformers, who did not
like midnight masses with all their profanations, desired to take
advantage of the evening hours, when the cessation of labour gave an
opportunity of collecting a large congregation. At seven o'clock on
Christmas eve they asked the governor for the keys of the church: 'It is
not sermon time,' he answered, 'and you shall not have them.' They
rejoined that every hour, except at night, was sermon time; and being
determined to begin the evening services, they went to the church,
opened the doors, the preacher got up into the pulpit, and in a moment
the place was crowded. A few priests or bigots, peeping into the
building, exclaimed in surprise at the crowd: 'The devil must have sent
a good many there!' The minister (it may have been Viret) explained the
great mystery of faith, the coming of the Saviour, and asked his hearers
if they would not receive him into their hearts. The sermon had lasted
some time, and the clock struck nine. Immediately the bells rang, and
the catholics crowded into the church, although there was no service at
that hour.

The reformed, being unwilling to quarrel, retired home quietly; but a
mischievous fellow, who had crept into the assembly with the intention
of exciting the people, began to whisper to his neighbours that the
heretics were going to destroy everything at St. Claire. This was false,
but they believed it; the crowd deserted the altars, and, meeting with a
few reformers in the streets, knocked some down, and broke the heads of
others; the best known among them had already reached home, but the
catholic population assembled in front of their houses, and threw stones
at their windows. Viret departed for Berne with ten of the reformed, in
order to make his complaint.[444]

[Sidenote: FIRST ACT OF RELIGIOUS LIBERTY.]

A few days later, on the 9th January 1532, two hundred and thirty
ministers assembled at Berne, among whom was the wise Capito, and formed
a sort of council. Having most of them left the Romish church, they
desired liberty not only for themselves, but also for their adversaries.
The laymen were of the same opinion. Berne, the representative of
protestantism, agreed with Friburg, the champion of popery, on this
subject. 'We desire,' said the Bernese, 'that every one should have free
choice to go to the preaching or to mass.' 'And we also,' said the
Friburgers. 'We desire that all should live in peace together, and that
neither priests nor preachers should call their adversaries heretics or
murderers. 'And we also,' said the Friburgers. 'Nevertheless, we do not
wish to hinder the priests and preachers from conferring amicably and
fraternally concerning the faith.' 'Quite right,' said the Friburgers.
These articles, and others like them—the first monument of religious
liberty in Switzerland—were published on the 30th January 1532.[445] It
is to be regretted that this proclamation of the sixteenth century was
not henceforward taken as a pattern in all christian countries, and in
Switzerland, where it was drawn up. The order did not for long prevent
violent collisions.

We shall now leave this quarter, and follow elsewhere the great champion
of the Word of God, Farel; but we shall return here later. The
evangelical seed was to be sown still more abundantly in the Pays de
Vaud, and that soil, which appeared adverse at first, will produce and
has produced, in our days especially, the finest of fruits.

[425] 'Fratres qui huc venerunt in messem missi sunt.'—Farellus
Andronico, Jan. 27, 1531. Choupard MSS.

[426] 'Quam difficiles eradicatu supersunt radices, antequam novale
jaciendo semini sit idoneum.'—Farellus Andronico, Jan. 27, 1531.
Choupard MSS.

[427] 'Aureos montes polliceri nolo.'—Ibid.

[428] Matthew xxiii. 23.

[429] 'Sine vanis controversiis vel aquæ vel panis aut censuum aut
decimarum, in quibus pars Christianismum putat.'—Farellus Andronico.
Choupard MSS.

[430] Non est quod otium expectes sed negotium.'—Farellus Andronico,
Feb. 12, 1531.

[431] 'Labores plurimi.'—Ibid.

[432] 'Sed in ipso pugnæ æstu, robustos ac plenis viribus hostes alacer
aggrediaris, collocata in Deum fiducia, cujus est victoria sicut et
pugna; non enim nos pugnamus, sed Dominus.'—Farellus Andronico. Jan. 27,
1531. Choupard MSS.

[433] 'Pugnam fervere, cum hostibus consertas manus jungere, victoriam
suis impartire, sed non citra sudorem.'—Farellus Andronico, April 1531.
Choupard MSS.

[434] 'In medios hostes prosilire, jacula vibrare, hostes hinc inde
prosternere ac dissipare.'—Ibid.

[435] 'Nec tantopere curandum quid uxor velit et poscat, sed quæ Deus
ipse petat et jubeat.'—Farellus Andronico, April, 1531. Choupard MSS.

[436] Warlike musical instruments.

[437] Chronique de Neuchâtel. Chant de bataille, par un Lucernois.
Müller, _Hist. de la Conféd. Suisse_.

[438] _Chroniqueur_, p. 112.

[439] 'Duræchet, gebalgets, verschmæht.... Gott gelæstert.'—Berne to the
bailli of Grandson, June 7.

[440] _Sommaire_, etc. p. 181.

[441] The Choupard MS. gives the sentence of Berne under the date of
17th June 1531.

[442] _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, p. 167.

[443] Choupard MSS. Stettler MSS. _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur._

[444] _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, p. 74. Ruchat, iii. p. 45.

[445] _Mém. du Sire de Pierrefleur_, pp. 82-85. Choupard MSS.
Ruchat, iii. p. 47.




 CHAPTER V.
 THE WALDENSES APPEAR.
 (1526 TO OCTOBER 1532.)


On Friday, 12th July, Farel came from Morat to Grandson, where a quiet
conference was to be held. Four disciples of the Gospel begged to
receive the imposition of hands. Farel and his colleagues examined them,
and, finding them fitted for the evangelical work, sent them to announce
the Gospel in the neighbouring villages of Gy, Fy, Montagny, Noville,
Bonvillars, St. Maurice, Champagne, and Concise. But the conference was
to be occupied with more important business.

[Sidenote: THE WALDENSES.]

For two or three years past a strange report had circulated among the
infant churches that were forming between the Alps and the Jura. They
heard talk of christians who belonged to the Reformation without having
ever been reformed. It was said that in some of the remote valleys of
the Alps of Piedmont and Dauphiny, and in certain parts of Calabria,
Apulia, Provence, Lorraine, and other countries,[446] there were
believers who for many centuries had resisted the pope and recognised no
other authority than Holy Scripture. Some called them 'Waldenses,'
others 'poor men of Lyons,' and others 'Lutherans.' The report of the
victories of the Reformation having penetrated their valleys, these
pious men had listened to them attentively; one of them in particular,
Martin Gonin, pastor of Angrogne, was seriously moved by them. Being a
man of decided and enterprising character, and ready to give his life
for the Gospel, the pious _barbe_ (the name given by the Waldenses to
their pastors) had felt a lively desire to go and see closely what the
Reformation was. This thought haunted him everywhere: whether he
traversed the little glens which divided his valley, like a tree with
its branches,[447] or whether he followed the course of the torrent, or
sat at the foot of the Alps of Cella, Vachera, and Infernet, Gonin
sighed after Wittemberg and Luther. At last he made up his mind; he
departed in 1526, found his way to the reformers, and brought back into
his valleys much good news and many pious books. From that time the
Reformation was the chief topic of conversation among the barbes and
shepherds of those mountains.

       *       *       *       *       *

In 1530 many of them, threading the defiles of the Alps, arrived on the
French slopes, and following the picturesque banks of the Durance, took
their way towards Merindol, where a synod of Waldensian christians had
been convened. They walked on, animated with the liveliest joy; they had
thought themselves alone, and in one day there had been born to them in
Europe thousands of brethren who listened humbly to the Word of God, and
made the pope tremble on his throne. .... They spoke of the Reformation,
of Luther, and Melanchthon, and of the Swiss as they descended the rough
mountain paths. When the synod was formed, they resolved to send a
deputation to the evangelicals of Switzerland, to show them that the
Waldensian doctrines were similar to those of the reformers, and to
prevail upon the latter to give them the hand of fellowship. In
consequence, two of them, George Morel and Peter Masson, set out for
Basle.

[Sidenote: DEPUTATION TO ŒCOLAMPADIUS.]

On their arrival in that city, they asked for the house of Œcolampadius;
they entered his study, and the old times, represented by these
simple-minded worthy barbes, greeted the new times in the person of the
amiable and steadfast reformer. The latter could not see these brave and
rustic men standing before him and not feel an emotion of respect and
sympathy. The Waldenses took from their bosoms the documents of their
faith, and presented them to the pious doctor. 'Turning away from
Antichrist,' said these papers, and Masson and Morel repeated the words,
'we turn towards Christ. He is our life, our truth, our peace, our
righteousness, our shepherd, our advocate, our victim, our high-priest,
who died for the salvation of believers.[448] But alas! as smoke goeth
before the fire, the temptation of Antichrist precedeth the glory.[449]
In the time of the apostles Antichrist was but a child; he has now grown
into a perfect man. He robs Christ of the merit of salvation, and
ascribes it to his own works. He strips the Holy Ghost of the power of
regeneration, and attributes it to his ceremonies. He leads the people
to mass, a sad tissue of jewish, pagan, and christian rites, and
deprives them of the spiritual and sacramental manducation.[450] He
hates, persecutes, accuses, robs, and kills the members of Jesus
Christ.[451] He boasts of his length of life, of his monks, his virgins,
his miracles, his fasts, and his vigils, and uses them as a cloak to
hide his wickedness. Nevertheless, the rebel is growing old and
decreasing, and the Lord is killing the felon by the breath of his
mouth.'[452] Œcolampadius admired the simplicity of their creed. He
would not have liked a doctrine without life, or an apparent life
without doctrine, but he found both in the Waldensian barbes. 'I thank
God,' he told them, 'that he has called you to so great light.'[453]

Ere long the doctors and faithful ones of Basle desired to see these men
of the ancient times. Seated round the domestic hearth, the Waldenses
narrated the sufferings of their fathers, and described their flocks
scattered over the two slopes of the Alps. 'Some people,' they said,
'ascribe our origin to a wealthy citizen of Lyons, Peter de Vaux or
Waldo, who, being at a banquet with his friends, saw one of them
suddenly fall dead.[454] Moved and troubled in his conscience he prayed
to Jesus, sold his goods, and began to preach and sent others to preach
the Gospel everywhere.[455] But,' added the barbes, 'we descend from
more ancient times, from the time when Constantine introducing the world
into the Church, our fathers set themselves apart, or even from the time
of the apostles.'[456]

[Sidenote: CONFESSIONS OF THE BARBES.]

In the course of conversation, however, with these brethren, the
christians of Basle noticed certain points of doctrine which did not
seem conformable with evangelical truth, and a certain uneasiness
succeeded to their former joy. Wishing to be enlightened, Œcolampadius
addressed a few questions to the two barbes. 'All our ministers,' they
answered on the first point, 'live in celibacy, and work at some honest
trade.' 'Marriage, however,' said Œcolampadius, 'is a state very
becoming to all true believers, and particularly to those who ought to
be in all things _ensamples to the flock_. We also think,' he continued,
'that pastors ought not to devote to manual labour, as yours do, the
time they could better employ in the study of scripture. The minister
has many things to learn; God does not teach us miraculously and without
labour; we must take pains in order to know.'[457]

The barbes were at first a little confused at seeing that the elders had
to learn of their juniors; however, they were humble and sincere men,
and the Basle doctor having questioned them on the sacraments, they
confessed that through weakness and fear they had their children
baptised by Romish priests, and that they even communicated with them
and sometimes attended mass. This unexpected avowal startled the meek
Œcolampadius. 'What,' said he, 'has not Christ, the holy victim, fully
satisfied the everlasting justice for us? Is there any need to offer
other sacrifices after that of Golgotha? By saying _Amen_ to the
priests' mass you deny the grace of Jesus Christ.'

Œcolampadius next spoke of the strength of man after the fall. 'We
believe,' said the barbes modestly, 'that all men have some natural
virtue, just as herbs, plants, and stones have.'[458] 'We believe,' said
the reformer, 'that those who obey the commandments of God do so, not
because they have more strength than others, but because of the great
power of the Spirit of God which renews their will.'[459] 'Ah,' said the
barbes, who did not feel themselves in harmony with the reformers on
this point, 'nothing troubles us weak people so much as what we have
heard of Luther's teaching relative to free-will and predestination....
Our ignorance is the cause of our doubts: pray instruct us.'

The charitable Œcolampadius did not think the differences were such as
ought to alienate him from the barbes. 'We must enlighten these
christians,' he said, 'but above all things we must love them.' Had they
not the same Bible and the same Saviour as the children of the
Reformation? Had they not preserved the essential truths of the faith
from the primitive times? Œcolampadius and his friends agitated by this
reflection, gave their hands to the Waldensian deputation: 'Christ,'
said the pious doctor,' is in you as he is in us, and we love you as
brethren.'

[Sidenote: THE MARTYRED BARBE.]

The two barbes left Basle and proceeded to Strasburg to confer with
Bucer and Capito, after which they prepared to return to their valleys.
As Peter Masson was of Burgundian origin, they determined to pass
through Dijon, a journey not unattended with danger. It was said here
and there in cloisters and in bishops' palaces that the old heretics had
come to an understanding with the new. The pious conversation of the two
Waldensians having attracted the attention of certain inhabitants of
Dijon, a clerical and fanatical city, they were thrown into prison. What
shall they do? What, they ask, will become of the letters and
instructions they are bearing to their co-religionists? One of them,
Morel, the bearer of this precious trust, succeeded in escaping: Masson,
who was left, paid for both; he was condemned, executed, and died with
the peace of a believer.

When they saw only one of their deputation appear, the Waldenses
comprehended the dangers to which the brethren had been exposed, and
wept for Masson. But the news of the reformers' welcome spread great joy
among them, in Provence, Dauphiny, in the valleys of the Alps, and even
to Apulia and Calabria. The observations, however, of Œcolampadius, and
his demand for a stricter reform, were supported by some and rejected by
others. The Waldensians determined therefore to take another step: 'Let
us convoke a synod of all our churches,' said they, 'and invite the
reformers to it.'

One July day in 1532, when Farel was at Grandson, as we have seen, in
conference with other ministers, he was told that two individuals, whose
foreign look indicated that they came from a distance, desired to speak
with him. Two barbes, one from Calabria, named George, the other Martin
Gonin, a Piedmontese, entered the room. After saluting the evangelicals
in the name of their brethren, they told them that the demand that had
been addressed to them to separate entirely from Rome had caused
division among them. 'Come,' they said to the ministers assembled at
Grandson, 'come to the synod and explain your views on this important
point. After that we must come to an understanding about the means of
propagating over the world the doctrine of the Gospel which is common to
both of us.' No message could be more agreeable to Farel; and as these
two points were continually occupying his thoughts, he determined to
comply with the request of the Waldensian brethren. His
fellow-countryman, the pious Saunier, wished to share his dangers.

The members of the conference and the evangelicals of Grandson gazed
with respect upon these ancient witnesses of the truth, arriving among
them from the farther slopes of the Alps and the extremity of Italy,
where they would have had no idea of going to look for brethren. They
crowded round them and gave them a welcome, overflowing with love for
them as they thought of the long fidelity and cruel sufferings of their
ancestors. They listened with interest to the story of the persecutions
endured by their fathers, and the heroism with which the Waldenses had
endured them. They were all ears when they were told how the barbes and
their flocks were suddenly attacked by armed bands in their snowy
mountains during the festival of Christmas in the year 1400; how men,
women, and children had been compelled to flee over the rugged rocks,
and how many of them had perished of cold and hunger, or had fallen by
the sword. In one place the bodies of fourscore little children were
found frozen to death in the stiffened arms of their mothers who had
died with them.... In another place thousands of fugitives who had taken
refuge in deep caverns (1488) had been suffocated by the fires which
their cruel persecutors had kindled at the entrance of their
hiding-place.[460] Would not the Reformation regard these martyrs as its
precursors? Was it not a privilege for it thus to unite with the
witnesses who had given glory to Jesus Christ since the first ages of
the Church?

[Sidenote: FAREL'S DANGEROUS JOURNEY.]

Some of the Swiss christians were alarmed at the idea of Farel's
journey. In truth great dangers threatened the reformer. The martyrdom
of Peter Masson, sacrificed two years before, had exasperated the
Waldenses of Provence, and their lamentations had aroused the anger of
their enemies. The bishops of Sisteron, Apt, and Cavaillon had taken
counsel together and laid a remonstrance before the parliament of Aix,
which had immediately ordered a raid to be made on the heretics: the
prisons were filled with Waldensians and Lutherans, real or pretended.
Martin Gonin, one of the two Waldensian deputies, was in a subsequent
journey arrested at Grenoble, put into a sack, and drowned in the Isère.
A similar fate might easily happen to Farel. Did not the country he
would have to cross depend on the duke of Savoy, and had not Bellegarde
and Challans laid hands on Bonivard in a country less favourable to
ambuscades than that which Farel had to pass through? That mattered not:
he did not hesitate. He will leave these quarters where the might of
Berne protects him and pass through the midst of his enemies. 'There was
in him the same zeal as in his Master,' says an historian;[461] 'like
the Saviour, he feared neither the hatred of the Pharisees, nor the
cunning of Herod, nor the rage of the people.' He made every preparation
for his departure, and Saunier did the same.[462]

Just as Farel was about to leave Switzerland, he received unpleasant
tidings from France, and thus found himself solicited on both sides. He
wrote to his fellow-countrymen one of those letters, so full of
consolation and wisdom, which characterise our reformers. 'Men look
fiercely at you,' he said, 'and threaten you, and lay heavy fines upon
you; your friends turn their robes and become your enemies.... All men
distress you.... Observing all modesty, meekness, and friendship,
persevering in holy prayers, living purely, and helping the poor, commit
everything to the Father of mercies, by whose aid you will walk, strong
and unwearied, in all truth.'[463]

[Sidenote: FAREL'S ARRIVAL IN THE VALLEYS.]

Towards the end of August, Farel and Saunier took leave of the brethren
around them, got on their horses, and departed. Their course was
enveloped in mystery: they avoided the places where they might be known
and traversed uninhabited districts. Having crossed the Alps and passed
through Pignerol, they fixed their eyes, beaming with mournful interest,
on the lonely places where almost inaccessible caverns, pierced in the
ragged sides of the mountains, often formed the only temple of the
Christians, and where every rock had a history of persecution and
martyrdom. Their place of meeting was Angrogne, in the parish of the
pious Martin Gonin. The two reformers quitted La Tour, and following the
sinuosities of the torrent, and turning the precipices, they arrived at
the foot of a magnificent forest, and then reached a vast plateau
abounding in pastures: this was the Val d'Angrogne. They gazed upon the
steep ranges of the Soirnan and Infernet, the pyramidal flanks of mount
Vandalin, and the gentler slopes upon which stood the lowly hamlets of
the valley. They found Waldenses here and there in the meadows and at
the foot of the rocks; some were prepared 'to be a guard for the
ministers of the good law;' and all looked with astonishment and joy at
the pastors who came from Switzerland. 'That one with the red beard and
riding the white horse is Farel,' said John Peyret of Angrogne, one of
their escort, to his companions; 'the other on the dark horse is
Saunier.' 'There was also a third,' add the eye-witnesses, 'a tall man
and rather lame:' he may have been a Waldensian who had acted as a guide
to the two deputies.[464] Other foreign Christians met in this remote
valley of the Alps. There were some from the southern extremity of
Italy, from Burgundy, Lorraine, Bohemia, and countries nearer home.
There was also a certain number of persons of more distinguished
appearance: the lords of Rive Noble, Mirandola, and Solaro had quitted
their castles to take part in this Alpine council. Clergy, senate, and
people were thus assembled; and as no room could have held the number,
it was resolved to meet in the open air. Gonin selected for this purpose
the hamlet of Chanforans, where there is now only one solitary house.
There, in a shady spot, on the side of the mountain, surrounded by an
amphitheatre of rugged cliffs and distant peaks, the barbe had arranged
the rude benches on which the members of this Christian assembly were to
sit.

Two parties met there face to face. At the head of that which was
unwilling to break entirely with the Roman Catholic Church were two
barbes, Daniel of Valence and John of Molines, who struggled for the
success of their system of accommodation and compliance. On the other
hand Farel and Saunier supported the evangelical party, who had not such
distinguished representatives as the traditional party, and proposed the
definitive rejection of all semi-catholic doctrines and usages. Before
the opening of the synod the two ministers, finding themselves
surrounded by numbers of the brethren, both in their homes and under the
shade of the trees where the assembly was to be held, had already
explained to them the faith of the Reformation, and several of the
Waldenses had exclaimed that it was the doctrine taught from father to
son among them, and to which they were resolved to adhere. Yet the issue
of the combat appeared doubtful; for the semi-catholic party was strong,
and described the reformers as foreigners and innovators who had come
there to alter their ancient doctrines. But Farel had good hopes, for he
could appeal to Holy Scripture and even to the confessions of the
Waldenses themselves.

[Sidenote: OPENING OF THE SYNOD.]

On the 12th September the synod was opened 'in the name of God.' One
party looked with favour on Farel and Saunier, the other on John of
Molines and Daniel of Valence; but the majority appeared to be on the
side of the Reformation. Farel rose and boldly broached the question: he
contended that there was no longer any ceremonial law, that no act of
worship had any merit of itself, and that a multitude of feasts,
dedications, rites, chants, and mechanical prayers was a great evil. He
reminded them that Christian worship consists essentially in faith in
the Gospel, in charity, and in the confession of Christ. '_God is a
spirit_,' he said, 'and divine worship should be performed _in spirit
and in truth_.' The two barbes strove in vain to oppose these views, the
meeting testified their assent to them. Did not their confession reject
'all feasts, vigils of saints, water called holy, the act of abstaining
from flesh, and other like things invented by men?'[465] The worship in
spirit was proclaimed.

Farel, delighted at this first victory, desired to win another and
perhaps more difficult one. He believed that it was by means of the
doctrine of the natural power of man that popery took salvation out of
the hands of God and put it into the hands of the priests: 'God,' said
he, 'has elected before the foundation of the world all those who have
been or who will be saved. It is impossible for those who have been
ordained to salvation not to be saved. Whosoever upholds free-will,
absolutely denies the grace of God.' This was a point which Molines and
his friend resisted with all their might. But did not the Waldensian
confessions recognise the impotency of man and the all-sufficiency of
grace? Did not they call the denial of these things 'the work of
Antichrist?'[466] Farel moreover adduced proof from Scripture. The synod
was at first in suspense, but finally decided that it recognised this
article as 'conformable with Holy Scripture.'[467]

Certain questions of morality anxiously occupied the reformer. In his
opinion the Romish Church had turned everything topsy-turvy, calling
those works _good_ which she prescribed though they had nothing good in
them, and those _bad_ which were in conformity with the will of God.
'There is no good work but that which God has commanded,' said Farel,
'and none bad but what He has forbidden.' The assembly expressed their
entire assent.

[Sidenote: FAREL'S OPINIONS GAIN GROUND.]

Then continuing the struggle, the firm evangelical doctor successively
maintained that the true confession of a Christian is to confess to God
alone; that marriage is forbidden to no man, whatever his condition;
that Scripture determines only two sacraments, baptism and the Lord's
Supper; that Christians may swear in God's name and fill the office of
magistrate; and finally, that they should lay aside their manual
occupations on Sunday in order to have leisure to praise God, exercise
charity, and listen to the truths of Scripture.[468] 'Yes, that is it,'
said the delighted Waldenses, 'that is the doctrine of our
fathers.'[469]

Molines and Daniel of Valence did not, however, consider their cause
lost. Ought not the fear of persecution to induce the Waldenses to
persevere in certain dissimulations calculated to secure them from the
inquisitive eyes of the enemies of the faith? Nothing displeased the
reformers so much as dissembling. 'Let us put off that paint,' said
Calvin, 'by which the Gospel is disfigured, and let us not endeavour
slavishly to please our adversaries; let us go boldly to work. If we
permit compromises in some practices the whole doctrine will fall, and
the building be thrown down.'[470] Farel thought as Calvin did.
Perceiving this loophole for the two barbes, he urged the necessity of a
frank confession of the truth. The members of the assembly, pricked in
their consciences by the remembrance of their former backslidings, bound
themselves to take no part henceforward in any Romish superstition, and
to recognise as their pastor no priest of the pope's church. 'We will
perform our worship,' they said, 'openly and publicly to give glory to
God.'[470]

The two barbes, who were no doubt sincere, became more eloquent. The
moment was come that was to decide the future. In their opinion, by
establishing new principles they cast discredit on the men who had
hitherto directed the churches. No doubt it was culpable to take part in
certain ceremonies with an unworthy object, but was it so when it was
done for good ends? To break entirely with the Catholic Church would
render the existence of the Waldenses impossible, or at least would
provoke hostilities which would reduce them completely to silence....
Farel replied with wonderful energy maintaining the rights of truth. He
showed them that every compromise with error is a lie. The purity of the
doctrine he professed, his elevated thoughts, the ardent affection
expressed by his voice, his gestures, and his looks, electrified the
Waldenses, and poured into their souls the holy fire with which his own
was burning. These witnesses of the middle ages called to mind how the
children of Israel having adopted the customs of people alien to the
covenant of God, wept abundantly and exclaimed: '_We have trespassed
against God!_'[471] The Waldenses felt like them, and desired to make
amends for their sins. They drew up a brief confession in 17 articles,
in conformity with the resolutions that had been adopted, and then said:
'We adhere with one accord to the present declaration, and we pray God
that, of his great charity, nothing may divide us henceforward, and
that, even when separated from one another, we may always remain united
in the same spirit.' Then they signed their names.[472]

The agreement was not however universal. During the six days' discussion
several barbes and laymen might have been seen standing apart, in some
shady place, with gloomy air and uneasy look, talking together on the
resolutions proposed to the synod. At the moment when every one was
affixing his signature to the confession, the two leaders withheld
theirs, and withdrew from the assembly.

[Sidenote: OLD WALDENSIAN MANUSCRIPTS.]

During the discussion, and even before it, Farel and Saunier had had
several conversations and conferences with the Waldenses, in the course
of which the barbes had displayed their old manuscripts, handed down
from the twelfth century, as they said: the _Noble Lesson_, the _Ancient
Catechism_, the _Antichrist_, the _Purgatory_, and others. These
writings bore the date of A.D. 1120, which probably was not disputed by
Farel. One line of the _Noble Lesson_ seems to indicate this as the
period when it was composed.[473] Since then, however, more recent dates
have been assigned to the other writings, especially to the
_Antichrist_, and even to the _Noble Lesson_. In any case, however,
these documents belong to a time anterior to the Reformation.[474] The
Waldensians displayed with peculiar pride several manuscript copies of
the Old and New Testament in the vulgar tongue. 'These books,' they
said, 'were copied correctly by hand so long ago as to be beyond memory,
and are to be seen in many families.' Farel and Saunier had received and
handled these writings with emotion; they had turned over the leaves,
and 'marvelling at the heavenly favour accorded to so small a people,'
had rendered thanks to the Lord because the Bible had never been taken
from them.

They did not stop there: Farel addressing the synod, represented to them
that the copies being few in number they could only serve for a few
persons: 'Ah!' said he, 'if there are so many sects and heresies, so
much trouble and confusion now in the world, it all comes from ignorance
of the Word of God. It would therefore be exceedingly necessary for the
honour of God and the well-being of all christians who know the French
language, and for the destruction of all doctrines repugnant to the
truth, to translate the Bible from the Hebrew and Greek tongues into
French.'[475]

No proposal could be more welcome to the Waldenses; their existence was
due to their love of Scripture, and all their treatises and poems
celebrated it:

  The Scriptures speak and we must believe. Look at the Scriptures from
  beginning to end.[476]

Thus spoke the _Noble Lesson_. They agreed 'joyfully and with good heart
to Farel's demand, busying and exerting themselves to carry out the
undertaking.' The proposition was voted enthusiastically, and the
delighted reformers looked with emotion and joy at this faithful and
constant people, to whom God had entrusted for so many ages the ark of
the new covenant, and who were now inspired with fresh zeal for his
service.[477]

The hour had come for them to separate. John of Molines and Daniel of
Valence went to Bohemia, and joined the Waldenses of that country; the
pastors returned to their churches, the shepherds to their mountains,
and the lords to their castles. Farel mounted his white horse, Saunier
his black one; they shook hands with the Waldenses who surrounded them,
and descending from Angrogne to La Tour, bade adieu to the valleys.

[Sidenote: FAREL'S VIEWS ON GENEVA.]

Where should they go? What would be the next work undertaken by
Farel?... Geneva had long occupied his thoughts, and as he crossed the
Alps he had before him in spirit that city with its wants and its
inhabitants, especially those who were beginning to 'meditate on Jesus
Christ.'[478] Already, before his departure for Italy, Farel had
conceived the plan of stopping at Geneva on his return, and with that
intent had even received from my lords of Berne some letters of
introduction addressed to the leading Huguenots. 'I will go to them
now,' he said, 'I will speak to them, even if there is nobody that will
hear me.'[479]

This idea, which never quitted him, was the beginning of the Reformation
of Geneva.

[446] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 2.

[447] Leger, _Hist. des Eglises Vaudoises_, p. 3.

[448] 'Que Christ es la nostra vita, e verita, e paçs, e justitia, e
pastor.' _Confession de Foi des Vaudois._

[449] 'Enayma lo fum vai derant lo fuoc.'—_L'Antichrist._

[450] 'Priva lo poble de l'espiritual e sacramental manjament.'—
_L'Antichrist._

[451] 'El eyra, e persec, e acaisonna, roba e mortifica li membre de
Christ.'—Ibid.

[452] 'Lo Segnor Jesus occi aquest felon.'—Ibid.

[453] Letter from Œcolampadius, 13 Oct. 1530.

[454] Anno 1170.

[455] 'Suis omnibus venditis, officium apostolarum usurpavit.'—Stephanus
de Barbone, a dominican monk of Lyons, in 1225.

[456] 'Aliqui enim dicunt quod duraverit a tempore Sylvestri, aliqui a
tempore apostolorum.'—Reinerius, 1250, _contra Waldenses_, ch. iv.

[457] Scultet, ii. p. 294. Ruchat, ii. p. 320.

[458] Latin paper of the barbes, 15th question. Ruchat, ii. p. 324.

[459] 'Nisi per spiritum sanctum reparemur, nihil vel velimus vel agamus
boni.'—_Œcolampadii Confessio_, art. 1.

[460] See the histories of Léger, Perrin, Muston, Monastier, &c.

[461] Ancillon.

[462] Choupard MSS. Léger, 2me partie, p. 7, etc. Monastier, i. pp. 167,
201. Kirchhofer, _Farel's Leben_, p. 153.

[463] Letter of 26 July 1532. Choupard MSS.

[464] Gilles, p. 40. Monastier, i. p. 201. We learn from the _Apologie
du translateur_ at the beginning of Olivetan's Bible (1535) that
Olivetan did not go into the valleys as some have believed; he speaks of
two deputies only under the pseudonyms of _Hilerme Cusemeth_ (Guillaume
Farel) and _Antoine Almeutes_ (+almeutês+, salter, Saunier). As for the
third, whom he calls _Cephas Chlorotes_, if he addressed the _Apologie_
to him also, it was not because he had been to Angrogne, but because he
had joined the other two in asking him to undertake that edition of the
Bible. This Cephas Chlorotes is evidently Peter Viret (+chlôros+,
virens).

[465] 'Las festas et las vigilias de li sanet, e l'aiga laqual dison
benieta, &c.'

[466] Léger, _Confession de Foi des Vaudois_, p. 23, verso;
_Traité de l'Antichrist_, p. 75.

[467] Léger, _Briève Confession de Foi_ (1532), p. 95.

[468] Léger, _Briève Confession_, p. 95, verso.

[469] Ibid.

[470] Gilles, _History of the Churches of Piedmont_, p. 30.

[471] Léger, _Hist. des Eglises Vaudoises_, p. 35. Ezra, x.;
Nehemiah, ix. x.

[472] This _Briève Confession_ is in the library of the University
of Cambridge. Léger, p. 95; Muston, _Hist. des Vaudois_, &c.

[473] Ben ha mil e cent anez compli entierament; line 6.

[474] See the researches into the Cambridge MSS. and the German works of
Dieckhoff and Zezschwitz. The latter author is of opinion that the
_Waldensian Catechism_, the _Antichrist_, and other writings, belong to
the end of the fifteenth and the beginning of the sixteenth century.
_Catechisms of the Waldenses and Bohemian Brethren_ (in German),
Erlangen, 1863.

[475] Olivetan's Bible: _Apologie du translateur_.

[476]

  "Ma l'Escriptura di, e nos creire o deven."—_Nobla Leycon_, l. 19.
  "Regarde l'Escriptura del fin commenczamente."—Ib. l. 23.

[477] Gilles, Léger; Muston, Monastier.

[478] Vol. II. p. 583.

[479] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 6. Choupard and Roset, MSS.




 CHAPTER VI.
 PLANS OF THE EMPEROR, THE DUKE OF SAVOY, AND THE BISHOP
 AGAINST GENEVA.
 (1530-1532.)


Just when the Gospel was about to enter Geneva with Farel and Saunier,
the bishop-prince was making new exertions to recover his power. A
crisis was approaching: a decisive step must be taken. Which shall have
supremacy in the church—the bulls of the pope or the Scriptures of God?
Which shall have supremacy in the state—slavery or liberty? Great powers
had determined to oppress this little city; but humble servants of God
were about to enter it one after another, and planting there the
standard of Christ, secure the victory to independence and the Gospel.

[Sidenote: BELLEGARDE'S AUDIENCE WITH CHARLES.]

The Duke of Savoy, desiring to inflict a fatal blow on Geneva, had
invoked the co-operation of the most powerful monarchs of Europe, and
despatched to Charles V., then at the diet of Augsburg, the usual
minister of his tyranny, the man whom he had employed to put Levrier to
death, and to capture Bonivard. As soon as Bellegarde reached Augsburg
(11th September 1530) he waited on the Sire de Montfalconet, who at that
time discharged the office of grand equerry to His Majesty, and who 'had
great credit with the emperor, so that, nothing was kept secret from
him.'[480] Enemies whom the duke had at the imperial court had created a
very unfavourable impression of this prince; Bellegarde accordingly gave
a pension of 300 crowns to the equerry, who earnt them under the
circumstances we are describing, by following the envoy's instructions.
The latter, being impatient to draw the emperor into the plans concocted
for seizing Geneva, begged Montfalconet to ask his master at what hour
he would be pleased 'to permit him to pay his respects.' 'Tell him,'
said Charles, who had on his hands all the affairs of protestantism and
Germany, 'tell him that in consequence of my many engagements he must
wait a couple of days.' Bellegarde did so, and on the third morning
attended punctually in the emperor's chamber. Very impatient to see the
puissant monarch, he was rehearsing what he had to tell him about
Geneva, when instead of His Majesty he saw Montfalconet enter the room
alone with this message: 'The emperor desires me to say that for the
present you must only hand in his highness's letter, as well as that
from his most dread lady; and he will give you an audience directly
after.' The ambassador was much vexed at the delay; but to console him
the equerry confidentially informed him of the great trouble the
protestants of Germany were giving Charles. 'I assure you the emperor is
in such a condition,' he said, 'that it is impossible for him to bring
the affairs of the empire into anything like a reasonable state. He has
therefore forsaken the counsels of men to have recourse to the Lord
only. As the _help_ of the world fails me, said His Majesty this morning
(14th September), I hope Divine Providence will come to my assistance.
The emperor then confessed, and retired into the oratory of the palace
to receive the sacrament. He has also ordered that prestations
(confessions, communions, and prayers) should be made in every place
where there are any devout people.'

While these two individuals were talking Charles came out of his
oratory. M. de Bellegarde made him a low bow, humbly presented him the
compliments of the duke and duchess, and handed him the letters. The
emperor, who was busy, told him to return the next morning at his levée.
Bellegarde did not fail, and Charles received him with much kindness.
'Give me news of his highness's health,' he said, 'and also of madam my
good sister (Duchess Beatrice), and of my nephew monsieur their son.'
Bellegarde answered his questions, and then made all the communications
to the emperor with which the duke had charged him. He hoped the emperor
would immediately enter into conversation with him about the plans
formed against Geneva, but it was not so. 'I am very glad,' said
Charles, 'that the duke has sent you to me; but, considering my great
occupations, be so good as to draw up a memoir of what you think most
expedient for the despatch of the business that brings you here, and
then deliver it to my lord Grandvelle.'

Here was a fresh delay. The minister's answer, considering the numerous
offices he filled, had to be waited for; yet Bellegarde spoke seven
times with Charles V., 'each time giving his majesty some little
information about the duke's affairs.' But the emperor, while appearing
to listen to the disputes between Geneva and Turin, frequently had his
thoughts elsewhere. He was tormented with the state of the empire, and
did not conceal it from his brother-in-law's envoy. 'I do not mean,' he
said one day to Bellegarde, 'that the duke shall be either dismissed or
ejected; but the diet (of Augsburg) is all in confusion and broken up. I
have no great hopes.... It is a long while since I have found the
princes of Germany thus dilly-dallying, putting me off from day to day,
so that I am quite out of hope, and my head is confused.... Ah! if it
pleased God that other princes were of my opinion.... Christendom would
not be in such confusion.' These are the very words his majesty was
pleased to use, adds Bellegarde in his memoir. He was surprised at them.
That man who knew so well how to put one of his adversaries in prison
and another to death, was astonished that so mighty a prince as Charles
should not adopt an equally simple and expeditious method. He ventured
to give the emperor a little advice. He had learnt that the strength of
the protestants was in their union. 'Sire,' he said, 'break up the
alliances, as well past as future, which have been formed to your great
prejudice, and whose consequences are so dangerous.'—'At present,' said
Charles, 'there is no time. I cannot now reduce the princes and cities
of Germany that are opposed to the faith; but I am determined not to
abandon the work, and when I have completed it, what concerns his
highness (be sure you tell him) will not be forgotten.' This then was
Charles's plan: first to crush the protestants of Germany, and then the
huguenots of Geneva. In his opinion these were as dangerous for the
Latin races as the former for the Germans.

[Sidenote: THE EMPEROR'S ANSWER.]

At last, on the 6th October, Grandvelle, chancellor of the empire
(he was the father of the famous cardinal), accompanied by the
commander ——,[481] had an interview with Bellegarde, and gave him the
emperor's answer. 'With respect to Geneva, his majesty thinks that to
avoid falling into the danger which the duke has at all times feared and
avoided, no part or parcel of his states must become Swiss. You must
take all the more precaution, because the nature of the cantons is
always to extend and grow larger, and the rebellion and stiff-necked
obstinacy of messieurs of Geneva will incline them to plunge through
despair into this accursed error.[482] That would cause loss and damage
to the duke, and little credit to the emperor, considering that Geneva
is a fief of the empire. Here is the expedient the emperor has hit upon.
He orders both the duke and Geneva to lay before him within two months
their titles, rights, and privileges, and his majesty will then decide.
As for the prelates, the bishop, and the canons, the emperor recommends
both them and the duke to bring their quarrels to an end. By so doing
the duke will get rid of a great load of trouble, and will have the
prelates better under his direction and obedience.' After a few other
communications, the chancellor withdrew with the commander, and
Bellegarde immediately sent off a despatch conveying this decision to
the duke.

[Sidenote: BELLEGARDE'S LETTER.]

The Sieur de Bellegarde left Augsburg not long after, and returned to
Turin, determined to urge his master more than ever to destroy
independence and the Reformation in Geneva at one blow. What he had seen
at Augsburg, and the dangers with which German protestantism threatened
the supremacy of the pope and of the emperor, had increased his zeal.
The institutions of the middle ages seem to have had at that time no
friend more fanatical and no champion more zealous than the active,
intelligent, devoted, cruel courtier who had put Levrier to death at the
castle of Bonne. 'My lord,' he said to the duke, 'consider the peril to
which you are exposed in this business of Geneva, either because of the
neighbours who are so near, and are ravening wolves, or because of the
little faith the world now has in all the qualities, sound right, and
reasons a man may have. What will happen if we do not remain masters in
the struggle with this new sect? What vexations, losses, and cares, you
know that better than I do. They want to keep you in good humour, my
lord, but it is only the better to make game of you, and to increase at
your expense, on this side of the mountains or on that—everywhere, in
fact. You have documents in your chamber to show that the Genevans used
to pay you toll and subsidy; that they helped to portion the daughters
of your house; and, further, that they gave your predecessors aid in
time of war, and that in time of peace they appealed to them in their
suits and sentences.... And now what have they done? They have deprived
you of the vidamy, they have taken from you the castle on the island,
they have committed much injustice to the prejudice of your rights, and
have been guilty of murder and other intolerable evils.... Worse
still ... they are joining _that perverse sect_ in order to complete
their ruin.

[Sidenote: HIS PLANS AGAINST GENEVA.]

'But we shall soon put an end to it all, my lord. You have an emperor at
your service on whom everything depends. Will they dare be wicked and
rebellious in his presence?... Firstly, the emperor will replace them
under your authority, as you and your ancestors had them.... Next, for
their rebellion and the crimes they have committed, he will condemn them
to be deprived of some privilege—of that which is most injurious to you.
Finally, he will build for you, for your government, a castle or
fortress in the city, in whatever part you like, and exact from the
Genevans for the support of the garrison a tax to be paid every year.
The city will thus be kept well in subjection. As for the bishops, the
emperor will command them to pay you the respect which belongs to the
holy empire, as being its representative; he will order them to obey you
like himself, and will restore them to all obedience towards you ...
considering also that _the time approaches_ for their _general
reformation, as is but reasonable_. And if the said people of Geneva
will not obey (as their unreason may incline them) the emperor will put
them under the ban of the empire as rebels, and you shall seize them....
_You will make them your subjects entirely, confiscating all their
privileges and possessions_; and thus you will be for ever established
rightfully in Geneva.'[483]

We should not perhaps have quoted the words of the Sieur de Bellegarde
at such length, if the document from which they are extracted had not
been hitherto unknown. His allegations were false. No presents had ever
been made by the city of Geneva to the dukes of Savoy without a special
act declaring that the liberality was spontaneous and without prejudice
for the future. The vidamy was a fief conferred by the bishop, which
made the holder of it an officer of the latter. Lastly, the dukes of
Savoy were not vicars of the emperor. But if Bellegarde's allegations as
to the past were false, his schemes as to the future were outrageous. A
strong fortress shall be built in Geneva, the citizens shall pay the
garrison, and a brutal serfdom shall withdraw them from that _perverse
sect_ and keep them for ever in strict obedience under the yoke of their
master! As for the bishops, they shall be compelled to obey the duke,
especially as the time of _their general reformation_ approaches! It
would appear, then, that in the sixteenth century already _reason_ (as
Bellegarde says) demanded the abolition of the temporal power of
ecclesiastical princes. Were they more advanced then than in our days? I
think not. This rude policy aimed merely at substituting the despotism
of princes for the despotism of bishops, as being stricter and more
effectual. Lastly—the end crowns the work—if the Genevans resist, they
shall be conquered, and all their power and property confiscated. In
this manner, concludes the advocate of these revolutionary measures, the
rights of his master will be for ever secured. This is what Geneva had
to expect from Savoy; what had it to hope from the bishop?

Pierre de la Baume, indignant at the duke's pretensions, had said to him
one day proudly: 'I am subject only to the pope.'[484] He had lately
softened down, in appearance at least, and was drawing nearer to Savoy,
so that the Genevans said: 'Our prince is reconciled with our
enemy.'[485] We are now transported into quite another sphere. If the
duke wished to reign by force, the bishop desired to use stratagem. The
pastor of Geneva was not in a position to build a fortress in the middle
of the city; it was by means of negotiations and intrigues that he would
crush the Reformation and liberty. The lion was succeeded by the
serpent. Pierre de la Baume, knowing the influence Besançon Hugues had
over his fellow-citizens, solicited his help. He wrote to him, during
the last year of Besançon's life, a series of letters we have also had
the good fortune to discover.[486] The bishop and the citizen of Geneva
were not such good friends as they had been. The former addressed many
reproaches to the latter, either because Hugues was dissatisfied on
political grounds, or perhaps because his catholicism had cooled down a
little in his frequent interviews with the reformed of Berne.

[Sidenote: THE BISHOP'S SECRETARY IN GENEVA.]

On the 11th of April 1532, the bishop, then at Arbois, impatient to
recover his former power in Geneva, resolved to open the campaign, and
wrote to Hugues: 'Besançon, I have always done for you everything that I
could; you have seen it by the results; I do not speak to reproach you,
but I am astonished that you should requite me so ill. If you had as
good an affection for me, as I have given you opportunity, you would
have _barked_ (aboyé) so well, that my authority would not have fallen
to its present depression, and I should not have the trouble, which I
must take, of restoring it. I well know the excuses that you can
make.... None is so deaf as he that will not hear. Nevertheless I have
trusted in you, and I still trust in your well-known fidelity. So act, I
pray, that I may have cause to continue it. In a little time I shall
send one of my people to Geneva on business; you will hear the rest from
him. I pray God that He will give you, Besançon, all that you
desire.'[487] Ten days later, Machard, the bishop's secretary, came from
Arbois to Geneva, charged with a political mission, and bearer of
another letter for Hugues, which, either on account of the delicate
matters to which it related, or because Machard was to explain them
verbally, is rather obscure. Hugues hastened to read the prelate's
missive: 'I send my secretary,' said De la Baume, 'on certain business,
which I have instructed him to communicate to you first. You will give
credit to what he says in my name as if I said it myself. I desire that
the affair in question may come to a good end, in order to gratify the
princes from whom it proceeds (the emperor and the duke, no doubt). Set
a willing hand to it, so that there may be friendly relations between me
and my subjects and the said princes, which is a thing of no trifling
consequence to all the republic.'

Hugues did not care to enter into the plans formed by the bishop in
accord with the princes; so that when Machard returned to Arbois and
made his report, his master was much annoyed. He complained of the
excessive boldness and strange insubordination of the Genevans, and
wrote bitterly to the ex-syndic. 'Besançon,' he said, 'the news that you
have given me of Berne are a little compensation for the insolence and
ill practices that you and my subjects show towards my officers,
usurping my jurisdiction under the shelter of certain words that you
have uttered before the general council.... I intend to uphold this same
jurisdiction in opposition to you.... Indeed I have done so against
greater folks.... I hope that you will return to your duty and become my
subjects once more. That will give me the opportunity of being a good
master. Otherwise do not trust to me.... Matters shall not remain where
you have left them. Communicate this to my subjects, if need be.'

[Sidenote: THE BISHOP'S ANGER.]

The bishop was angry with Geneva, as this letter shows—sometimes more,
sometimes less, but always restless and agitated. One day he was told of
something Hugues had said which delighted him; not long after he would
hear of something the Genevans had done that increased his anger. About
the 13th May when he was informed that Hugues had displayed a very good
feeling towards him, the prelate was quite delighted, and wrote to him:
'I have been informed of your intention to declare everywhere the wrong
that my subjects are doing me. You will show me, I hope, by good
actions, when I shall require it of you, that you are not a man of _two
words_.' But ere long other tidings reached the bishop. He was filled
with trouble, fear, and pain; and gave way to all the emotions of a
restless and suspicious policy. He had fits of anger; he became rash,
violent; then he would suddenly collapse; he had neither strength,
feeling, nor courage. In general, however, it was indignation that
prevailed in him. Not one of his officers or of the canons (for there
was a collegiate church at Arbois) understood him, or consoled him, or
encouraged him. He was alone ... and vented his agitation in his
apartments or in his gardens. 'I think the answers made by my subjects
very strange,' he said, 'I should be sorry to be angry with them.'[488]
A few days later he wrote: 'I am quite amazed.... It seems that my
subjects do not understand their business.... If they do not mend, I
shall be forced to proceed in another way ... which will displease
me.... It seems to me that they would do well to obey their lord, and
not act the prince.... It cannot last.'[489]

[Sidenote: LETTER TO HUGUES.]

But it did last. Geneva, where they were listening to Olivetan, where
they were placarding everywhere, by the side of the pardon of Rome, 'the
great general pardon' of Jesus Christ, where the council unanimously
ordered the Gospel to be preached 'according to the truth, without any
mixture of fable;'[490]—Geneva, whatever Pierre de la Baume might say or
do, was separating from the bishop and the pope. On the 3d September
(1532), the bishop, more exasperated than ever, wrote again to Besançon
Hugues, but with an increase of ill-humour. 'I am displeased with the
way my subjects treat me from day to day, declaring that they will rise
against my authority.... That will last as long as it can.... I have
always been long-suffering; but now it would be better for me to be
angry.... If I attempt to do anything from which the Genevans will reap
neither pleasure nor profit ... they must not be surprised.... Certainly
I have little to thank my servants or my friends for serving me so
badly.... I think, Besançon, that you desire what is right, but I should
like to see the fruits. The people always find excuses in you.... They
say that I have allowed their proceedings.... I do not understand that
_dance_, and I affirm that I said nothing with that intention, from
which may God keep them.

'THE BISHOP OF GENEVA.'[491]

It was reported at Geneva that the bishop was willing to make some
concessions, that he had said so privately, and the huguenots took
advantage of it to assert their independence. On the 28th November
Pierre de la Baume wrote to Besançon Hugues from the Tour de Mai:
'Besançon, I have seen what you wrote touching the mode of proceeding
against my authority and to the detriment of my church. I know whence
that comes ... except that I have always been given to understand that,
according to the common opinion, my subjects would have been much better
guided and would have obeyed me better than they have done, if you had
been willing to set your hand to it, as you had promised me,
endeavouring to procure the peace of the city, which suffers the
greatest loss on my part. As to what you write about being under my
displeasure, the only regret I feel as regards you is that you have not
been willing to do what you promised. The recompense I made you was to
the end that you might keep my possessions in peace, but they are more
than ever in war. It is entirely your fault if my jurisdiction is not
still kept up. I write to you in order that you may perform your
duty.... You will do me a pleasure: I would not have so many words to be
without result.... As for me I am accustomed to do _something
vigorously_.... _I shall consider what it must be._'

Such are the threatening words which close the correspondence of Pierre
de la Baume with Besançon Hugues. Until now all traces of this great
citizen had been lost after the 26th September 1532. If the letter we
have just given belongs to this year, that limit would be shortened by
two months. He must have died between the 28th November 1532 and the
18th February 1533.[492]

Thus the bishop, continually engrossed with Geneva, thought of nothing
but recovering his former power. But the independence of that city had
enemies more formidable still. Charles V. had ordered the Genevans to
drive the Reformation from their walls. 'Full of anxiety for your soul's
health,' he wrote to them, 'and learning that certain new opinions and
sects are beginning to swarm among you,[493] we exhort you seriously not
to admit them, to extirpate them, and to set about it with the utmost
diligence, not to permit anything to be taught among you in the
leastwise opposed to the decrees and traditions of your ancestors; on
the contrary, to preserve with unshaken constancy the faith, rites, and
ceremonies that you have received from your fathers. You will thus
receive a worthy reward from Almighty God, and will merit from us every
sort of gratitude.' Geneva had not obeyed the orders of the puissant
emperor. The affairs of Germany had at first prevented him from
constraining the little city to follow his sovereign orders, which even
the barbarous tribes of the new world obeyed. But now the treaty of
Nuremberg was signed; Charles having come to terms with the protestants
of Germany might easily keep the promise he had made to his
brother-in-law through Bellegarde, and assist him against the huguenots
of Geneva.

[Sidenote: FREEDOM IN SIGHT.]

The perfidious murderer of Levrier was beginning to hope that it would
be possible to found a stronghold in Geneva, with its ditches and lofty
walls, flanked with towers and bastions, and a strong garrison of
halberdiers, arquebusiers, and artillerymen, who would keep the city and
country in complete subjection under the yoke of their master. When
Gessler was sent in the name of Austria to destroy the liberties of the
Swiss, did he not build a fortress above Altorf—_Zwing-Uri_, the yoke of
Uri? and had not the free children of those mountains to atone for the
smallest sparks of independence by long and costly imprisonment in
gloomy dungeons? Had not Pharaoh set the example in Egypt?... Why should
not they do the same to subdue the huguenots? Fortresses, cannons,
arquebusses, chains ... this was what Geneva had to expect. Before any
great length of time the Genevans were really to see a formidable force
marching against them, commissioned to carry out the plans of the
emperor and the duke. But God's providence had always kept the city, and
at this very moment a new force, the pledge of liberty, was about to be
given it. The Gospel of the Son of God was about to enter its walls. But
_he whom the Son maketh free, shall be free indeed_.

[480] We have found among the archives at Turin (No. 49, bundle 12) the
_Mémoire de M. de Bellegarde au sujet de l'audience qu'il a eue de
S.M. Impériale touchant les différends que S. A. avait avec ceux de
Genève_. This manuscript of about 25 pages has supplied us with the
particulars in the text.

[481] The name is illegible in the manuscript, but it looks like
_Conmes_.

[482] Is the Reformation or union with Switzerland meant here? probably
both of them.

[483] MS. _Memoir of Bellegarde_, Turin Archives.

[484] Turin Archives, No. 19, bundle 12.

[485] Ibid. 12th category, bundle 3.

[486] Ibid. 12th category, bundle 4. The handwriting is almost as
illegible as that of Bellegarde's memoir.

[487] Turin Archives.

[488] Letter dated the eve of Pentecost.

[489] Dated 1st July.

[490] Vol. II. book III. chap. xv. pp. 615-634.

[491] Turin Archives.

[492] In a document at Basle under the latter date, the _late_
(feu) Besançon Hugues is mentioned. Galiffe, _Hugues_, p. 459.

[493] 'Novas quasdam opiniones et sectas apud vos pullulare
cœpisse.'—Turin Archives. We found this letter, which appears to have
been hitherto unknown, in the national archives at Turin. Geneva, bundle
12, No. 47.




 CHAPTER VII.
 THE REFORMERS AND THE REFORMATION ENTER GENEVA.
 (OCTOBER 1532.)


On one fine autumn day (2nd October), Farel and Saunier 'having finished
their journey through Piedmont,' reached that beautiful neighbourhood
where the Alps and the Jura, drawing near each other, form a rich
valley, in the midst of which calmly sleep the pure waters of an azure
lake. They soon distinguished the three old towers of the cathedral of
Geneva rising high above the houses. They pressed their horses, whose
speed was relaxed through fatigue, and entered the city of the
huguenots. They had been directed to the Tour Percée,[494] which they
found in a street situated on the left bank of the Rhone, and bearing
its name. They stopped in front of the inn, dismounted from their
horses, spoke to the landlord, and took up their quarters under his
roof.

[Sidenote: FAREL CONSULTS WITH OLIVETAN.]

One of their first thoughts, after resting themselves, was to inform
Robert Olivetan of their arrival. Calvin's cousin, who was still tutor
to Jean Chautemps' children, hastened to them, delighted at the coming
of his brethren. Farel desired to consult with him on the best means of
advancing the knowledge of the Gospel in Geneva; but another idea had
also occupied him during his journey. Knowing how learned Olivetan was
in Greek and Hebrew, he had cast his eyes on him to make the translation
of the Bible which the Waldensian synod had decided upon. Farel having
spoken to him about it, Olivetan exclaimed in alarm: 'I cannot accept
such a commission, considering the great difficulty of the work and my
own weakness.'[495] Farel did not admit the excuse, and continued to
solicit his friend, who would not give way. 'You could do this work much
better yourself,' he said to the travellers. But Farel believed that God
gives every man a calling for which He has prepared him, and that
Olivetan was a scholar while he was an evangelist. 'God has not given me
leisure,' said Farel, 'He calls me to another work. He wills me to sow
the pure seed of the Word in His field, and water it and make it
flourish like the garden of Eden.'[496] He dropped the subject, however,
in order to talk with Olivetan about the evangelisation of Geneva.

Chautemps' tutor, who had so often sunk under the weight of his task,
and so earnestly called for a stronger hand, looked upon Farel as one
sent from heaven. But how to begin? The evangelist of Orbe took from his
pocket the letters given him at Berne for some of the chief huguenots.
Olivetan saw that a door was opening for the Gospel, and without loss of
time the two friends went out to deliver the letters to their addresses.
Olivetan gave Farel the information he required, and explained to him
that although some of those to whom he was introduced inclined to the
side of the Gospel, the majority were content to throw off the Romish
superstitions, and were simply true patriots.

The huguenots having opened the letters that Farel presented, found that
the bearer was William Farel, preacher of the Gospel, and that their
Bernese friends invited them to hear him speak. This was great news. No
name was better known than Farel's in the districts bathed by the lakes
of Geneva, Morat, Bienne, and Neuchatel. The huguenots, delighted to see
him, looked attentively at him, and some of them reflected on such an
unexpected incident, which religious and political motives rendered most
important in their eyes. Friends of the Reformation had often told them
that the independence of Geneva would never be secure until the dominion
of the bishop and the pope had given place to that of the Gospel, and
now the Gospel was knocking at their doors in the person of Farel. Was
it not he who had filled Aigle, Morat, Neuchatel, Valengin, Orbe, and
Grandson with the evangelical doctrine? Political men hoped that at his
voice the temporal dominion of the church would fall, and the phantoms
of the middle ages, which still entangled liberty, would flee away in
alarm to distant hiding-places. Religious men, who had found pleasure in
the words of Am Thun, of Olivetan, and of the Gospel more especially,
expected that this great preacher would make the light of heaven to
shine in their hearts. All, therefore, expressed themselves ready to
hear him,[497] and Farel, saying he should be happy to see them at his
inn, took his leave.

[Sidenote: HUGUENOTS GO TO HEAR FAREL.]

The news of the reformer's arrival spread through the city in a
moment.[498] 'Let us go and hear him,' said the huguenots; 'it is the
man they call _the scourge of the little priests_.'[499] But the nuns,
bigots, and friars were filled with anger. 'A shabby little preacher,'
said the sisters of St. Claire; 'one Master William, a native of Gap in
Dauphiny, has just arrived in the city.'[500] Every one prepared for the
morrow.

On the morning of the 3d of October, the most notable of the huguenots
left their houses to go to the Tour Perce. They went singly, or at the
most two or three together, with a certain fear. One after another the
following persons might have been seen entering the inn: the amiable and
active Ami Porral, one of the syndics of the year; Baudichon de la
Maison Neuve, who had stuck up the 'Great Pardon of God;' syndic Robert
Vandel and his brother Pierre—all these intimate acquaintances of the
bishop; Claude Roset, secretary of state in the following year, and
father of the chronicler; syndic Claude Savoy, one of the most zealous
defenders of independence; Jean Chautemps, Olivetan's patron; Dominic
Arlod, afterwards syndic; Stephen Dada, descended from an illustrious
Milanese family, and properly called d'Adda, from the city of that name;
Claude Salomon, the friend of the poor and the sick; Claude Bernard;
Jean Goulaz, who had torn down the bill of the Romish jubilee from the
pillar of the cathedral; Jean Sourd, Claude de Genève, and lastly, the
energetic Ami Perrin, who several times syndic, captain-general, and
ambassador of the Republic at Paris, showed much zeal for the
Reformation at first, but afterwards incurred severe reproach.[501]
These citizens, who were the _élite_ of Geneva, with several other
persons of less distinction, arrived at the reformers' lodgings. The
landlord of the Tour Perce introduced them into a private room where
they found Farel and Saunier. The conversation began.

[Sidenote: HE SHOWS THEM THEIR DEFICIENCIES.]

The two evangelists were full of esteem for the men who were struggling
with such courage for independence and liberty against powerful enemies.
They were not slow, however, to observe that if, in a political light,
they held the most elevated sentiments, there were great deficiencies in
them in a religious light. The huguenots wanted neither pope nor
priests; but it was because of the tyranny of the one, and the
licentious conduct of the others;[502] as for the true doctrine of the
Gospel and the necessity of a moral transformation in themselves, they
had not troubled themselves about it. There was also a great void in
their religious system. Before they could become good protestants and
men morally strong, friends at once of order and liberty, this blank
must be filled up. They felt it themselves, and told Farel they desired
nothing better than to be instructed. The landlord brought in a few
benches and stools for them, and then Farel, having Saunier near him,
took his station before a little table. He placed a Bible on it, and
began to speak from the Word of God. An audience so select, an
opportunity so important for announcing the Gospel, had perhaps never
been offered to the reformer. He had before him the earliest champions
of modern liberty. These men had recognised the errors in the state, he
must now show them the errors in the church; they must learn that if man
may throw off despotism in earthly things, it is more lawful still to
throw it off in heavenly things.

Farel undertook the task; he showed the huguenots from Scripture 'that
they had been abused until now by their priests; that the latter amused
them with silly tales that had no substance in them, and further, that
these cheats (_affronteurs_) allured them, if they felt it necessary, by
flattery, and gave the rein to their lusts.' He added that neither
councils nor popes would teach them to know Jesus Christ, but Holy
Scripture only; and urged them to abandon errors and abuses, whose
danger and absurdity he forcibly pointed out to them. The huguenots
listened to him attentively. 'They had no great sentiment or knowledge
or fear of God, but they already aspired to the religion that had been
adopted at Berne,' says a manuscript of the seventeenth century; 'and
God, seeing his people of Geneva stagnating in security, and wishing by
an effort of his mercy to show them the divine sweetness of his
clemency, animated the courage of his servants, Farel and Saunier.'[503]
The simple movement by which Farel, setting aside all patristic,
synodal, scholastic, and papal traditions, turned reverently towards the
fountain-head, and drank from the Word of God the faith that he
preached, specially struck his hearers. They rose, thanked him, and left
the room, saying as they retired that it seemed right to substitute the
Holy Scriptures for the teaching of the pope. This was the principle of
an immense transformation. The Reformation had taken its first step in
Geneva when the placards of the 'general pardon' of God had been stuck
up: it now took the second step.[504]

'There was a great sensation in the city,' said Froment. Some of the
hearers, returning to their families or their friends, astonished them
by saying that henceforth their master should be neither M. La Baume,
nor M. Medicis or even M. St. Peter, 'but the Lord Jesus Christ alone.'
The astonishment was still greater in the political and ecclesiastical
bodies. Hitherto they had only had to deal with the heroes of liberal
emancipation; now they were in presence of the champions of the
religious movement. 'This thing having come to the notice of the
council, canons, and priests of the city, they were suddenly troubled
and disturbed.'[505] The monks were either astounded or very angry,
while the nuns of St. Claire were quite alarmed at 'this wretched
preacher, who was beginning to speak secretly at his quarters, in a
room, seeking to infect the people with his heresy.'[506] All of them
foresaw that this act would have innumerable and fatal consequences.

[Sidenote: FAREL'S SECOND LECTURE.]

There was soon a second meeting. Many of those who had not been at the
first wished to be present at this; and from the city, the Molard, and
the Rhone bridge, many citizens took their way towards the Tour Perce.
There were no women among them, but the men filled every corner of the
room, anxious to hear the Gospel. As Farel on the former occasion had
spoken particularly of scripture, he now addressed the huguenots on the
subject of living grace. He showed them that it was not the pardon of
the Church, but the pardon of God, that saves. Those prelates and
masters who, puffed out with magnificent titles, were continually
recommending pious works, were (he said) building the temple of God with
straw and stubble, instead of bringing together the living stones of
which scripture speaks. He maintained that when the priests spoke so
much of penance, vows, masses, fasts, aves, macerations, flagellations,
indulgences, pilgrimages, invocations to the Virgin and the saints, they
hardly left Jesus Christ the hundredth part of the work of redemption.
Farel and Saunier repeated strongly that pardon resides wholly in the
Saviour, and not in part only, 'at which those who heard him took great
pleasure.' Some meditated as they went away on what they had heard, and
that silent conversation of the soul speaking with its God began in the
quiet chamber of many a house. 'By this means a goodly number of
Genevans received a knowledge of the Gospel.'[507] Some of
them—Baudichon de la Maison-Neuve and Claude Salomon amongst
others—earnestly besought Farel to come and explain the Scriptures in
their own houses.

This second meeting added considerably to the alarm in the catholic
camp, and the commotion was particularly great among the women, who were
at that time the main support of the papacy in Geneva. 'There is not one
of them,' said a reformer, 'that has any desire to learn the truth, so
tainted are they with the breath, teaching, life, and conversation of
their priests. There is a great intimacy between them; some are their
brothers, others their friends, neighbours, gossips.... I shall say
nothing more at present,' he added, 'to save the honour of the
ladies.'[508] The priests told their female parishioners that if they
did not turn out these unbelievers everything was lost. The Genevan
ladies, therefore, entreated their husbands and brothers to expel the
heretic preachers. A few citizens, who cared very little about the
Reformation, were carried away by their wives, and proceeding angry and
heated to the Tour Perce, desired Farel and Saunier to leave Geneva at
once, if they did not wish to be turned out forcibly. 'If we cannot
maintain what we say,' replied the reformers, 'we offer ourselves to
death.'[509] Having God for the author of their faith, they were
tranquil in the midst of tempests.[510]

Thus, despite all the efforts of the husbands urged by their wives, and
of the wives urged by the priests, Farel remained. At that time a great
agitation prevailed in Geneva: canons, rectors, monks, and curates ran
up and down, talking with one another, 'and holding counsel together,
asked what they should do with those persons.'[511]

[Sidenote: FAREL BEFORE THE TOWN-COUNCIL.]

The magistrates, noticing the commotion occasioned by the arrival of
Farel and Saunier in the city, summoned them to appear before the bench,
and met to consult as to what should be said and done to them. The
council had not made up their minds either for or against the
Reformation, and many of the members arrived at the town-hall not
knowing clearly what they ought to do. Ex-syndic Balard, who was then
discharging the functions of vidame, a zealous Catholic whom Froment
calls (probably with some exaggeration) 'the head servant of the
priests,' was for immediate repression, and a few were ready to vote
with him. The majority, composed of men of moderate views, had no desire
to offend the canons and priests, but feared still more to offend Berne.
William Hugues, the premier syndic and Besançon's brother, was rather
favourable to the reformers. Only a small number of decided huguenots
were convinced that the new doctrine alone could free them from the
bickerings of the bishops and the dukes. Farel and Saunier were
conducted to the town-hall and taken into the council chamber. As they
entered, everybody looked with curious eye on that man with keen look
and red beard who was setting all the country in a blaze from the Alps
to the Jura. One of the magistrates most devoted to the Church
addressing Farel rudely, said: 'It is you then that do nothing but
disturb the world; it is your tongue that is stirring up tumult
everywhere and trumpeting rebellion. You are a busybody who have come
here only to create discord. We order you to depart from the city
instantly.' The angry looks of some of the councillors were at the same
time turned upon Farel, who being regarded as the scourge of the
priests, 'was for that reason supremely hated by them.'[512] The
reformer contained himself, and answered: 'I am not a deluder, I am not
a trumpet of sedition; I simply proclaim the truth.[513] I am ready to
prove out of God's Word that my doctrine is true, and,' added he in a
voice trembling with emotion, 'not only to sacrifice my ease but to shed
the last drop of my blood for it.'

The reformer's noble simplicity touched the members of the council, and
supplied the huguenots with sufficient motives to undertake his defence.
Farel's judges appeared to be softened by his moderation. Then calling
to mind that St. Paul under similar circumstances had invoked the
respected name of imperial Rome, the evangelist resolved to follow his
example. 'Most honoured lords,' he said, 'are you not allies and
co-burgesses of Berne? Know, then, that my lords of Berne, who have at
heart to advance the Gospel, have given me letters wherein they bear
witness to my innocence and doctrine, and beg you to hear me preach
peacefully, assuring you that by so doing you will confer a pleasure on
them.' At the same time Farel produced the credentials with which their
excellencies had furnished him. The syndics took the letter. 'If you
condemn me unheard,' continued Farel, 'you insult God, and also, as you
see, my lords of Berne.' The latter plea touched the magistrates of
Geneva closely; and, accordingly, changing countenance, they gently
dismissed Farel and Saunier without imposing any punishment on them, but
begging them only not to disturb the public tranquillity by new
doctrines. The two ministers quitted the council chamber.[514]

[Sidenote: DELIBERATIONS OF THE CLERGY.]

Meanwhile an episcopal council was being held; and jurists, canons, and
priests were assembling at the house of the grand vicar. Monseigneur de
Gingins, abbot of Bonmont, deliberated as to what should be done. The
Reformation and the reformers, of whom there had been so much talk these
fifteen years, were in Geneva at last. The rock so long suspended over
their heads was at length detached from the mountain, and threatened to
destroy everything. What was to be done? The tumult was still greater in
the city than in the grand vicar's house. A crowd, attracted by the
summons of Farel and Saunier before the council, 'was scattered up and
down the streets,' and priests paraded the city, 'carrying arms under
their frocks.'[515] The reformers had some trouble to reach their
lodgings.

The episcopal council prolonged its sittings. Monseigneur de Bonmont, a
sincere but moderate and liberal catholic, was ill at ease. Seeing angry
faces and flashing eyes around him, he represented that it would be
necessary to proceed cautiously and in accordance with justice. Some of
those present were exasperated, for in their eyes De Gingins' moderation
was flagrant treason. In their opinion it was necessary to prosecute
immediately not only the foreign preachers, but 'all who inviting them
into their houses (as Maison-Neuve for instance) to converse about the
Gospel, wished to live differently from what their forefathers, pastors,
and bishops had taught them.' The most reverend vicar represented that
persons were not convicted without being heard, that they must summon
these strangers before them, call upon them to explain their doctrine,
and then they would be sentenced upon full knowledge of the facts. This
alarmed the council, and Dom Stephen Piard, proctor to the chapter,
exclaimed with a frown:[516] 'If we dispute, all our office is at an
end.'[517] He urged that 'to discuss theological questions was to
overlook the authority of the church; that we must believe because Rome
has spoken; that these people with their Bibles were subtle spirits and
dangerous adversaries, ... and that the authority of the chapter would
be overthrown if they permitted any disputation.'

[Sidenote: CONSPIRACY AGAINST FAREL.]

Dom Stephen enjoyed a certain authority; the assembly was about to
refuse to hear Farel, when it was opposed by some of the members who
were most notorious for their fanatical zeal. In the sixteenth century
not only jurists regarded it as a duty to condemn heretics to death, but
devout persons, laymen as well as priests, thought they did an
acceptable thing to God by putting them to death. It would appear that
these latter persons had made up their minds to this meritorious work.
'Having deliberated to kill Farel and his companion,' says a manuscript,
'they found the best means of getting them to come would be by giving
them to understand that they desired to debate with them.' The pious
sister Jeanne de Jussie corroborates this statement.[518] The
conspirators carried the proposal to summon Farel. He was never to go
out again from the vicar-general's house; but first of all it was
necessary for him to enter it. Machard, the bishop's secretary, was
deputed to summon Farel and Saunier, and also Olivetan, 'to retract
publicly, or to explain before the episcopal council what they had
preached in the inn.'

Ere long something transpired of the plot of these fanatical
ecclesiastics, and the huguenots, forming part of the little council at
that moment assembled in the town-hall, represented to their colleagues
that the priests had no other object than to draw the ministers into a
trap. Accordingly the two chief magistrates, Hugues and Balard,
accompanied Machard to the Tour Perce, to give a guarantee to Farel and
his friends. Some persons suspected Balard of wishing to get Farel and
Saunier into trouble. 'There is nothing more prejudicial to Geneva than
division,' he said; 'I wish those who disturb us were well out of us.'
But he was neither a coward nor a traitor; he was determined to send the
reformers away from Geneva, but to protect their lives.'[519] On
reaching the inn the bishop's secretary informed the evangelists that
the episcopal council invited them to retract the doctrines they had
taught, the presence of Balard and Hugues giving weight to the request.
Farel answered: 'We affirm these doctrines in the strongest way
possible, and again offer to die if we cannot prove them out of
scripture.' 'In that case,' resumed Machard, 'come before the episcopal
council to discuss with the priests, and maintain what you have said.'
'No harm shall be done you,' said the premier syndic and the vidame, 'we
pledge our word to it.' Farel and Saunier, delighted with this
opportunity of announcing the Gospel, set off, accompanied by Olivetan.
They were calm and full of joy, doubtless not expecting what awaited
them, but ready nevertheless to give up their lives.

[494] Tour Percée. The sign of this inn was in existence until recently;
there was a _hole in the tower_.

[495] Olivetan's Bible, _Apologie du translateur_.

[496] Ibid.

[497] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 3.

[498] 'Percrebuit rumor de Farelli adventu.'—Spanheim, _Geneva
restituta_, p. 43.

[499] 'Sacrificulorum flagellum.'—Ibid.

[500] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 46.
Choupard MSS.; Roset MSS. liv. III. ch. 1.

[501] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 4. Galiffe, _Notices généalogiques_, &c.

[502] 'Cives multi non inviti, etsi nounullos, non tam pietatis cura,
quam Romanæ tyrannidis odium movebat.'—MS. of Benedict Turretini,
entitled _Initium et progressus Reformationis quæ facta est Genevæ_, in
the Berne Library, MS. _Hist. Helv._ v. p. 125.

[503] _Hist. de la Réf. de Genève_, MS. of Badollet, regent of the
college of Geneva in the seventeenth century. Berne library, _Hist.
Helv._ v. p. 125.

[504] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 5. Gautier MS. Spon I. p. 467. Roser
and Choupard MSS.

[505] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 3.

[506] La Sœur de Jussie, _le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 46.

[507] Choupard MS.

[508] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 4.

[509] Ibid. Choupard MS.

[510] Calvin.

[511] Choupard MS.

[512] Ruchat, III. p. 177.

[513] 'Se non seditionis tubam sed veritatis præconem esse.'—Spanheim,
_Geneva restituta_, p. 43.

[514] Choupard MS. Spanheim, _Geneva restituta_, p. 43.

[515] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 4.

[516] 'Supercilio adducto.'—Spanheim, _Geneva restituta_, p. 44.

[517] 'Si disputetur, totum ministerium nostrum destruetur.'—Froment,
_Gestes de Genève_, p. 5. This is differently reported: Froment and
Choupard give _ministerium_: Roset and Spanheim _mysterium_. I have
preferred the former as the better reading.

[518] Choupard MS. La Sœur J. de Jussie, _le Levain du Calvinisme_,
p. 47.

[519] _Mém. d'Archéologie de la Soc. d'Hist. de Genève_, x. p.
cviii.




 CHAPTER VIII.
 THE REFORMERS ARE EXPELLED FROM GENEVA.
 (OCTOBER 1532.)


[Sidenote: FAREL BEFORE THE EPISCOPAL COUNCIL.]

While the upper house of the clergy was sitting at the vicar-general's,
the lower house had assembled in the streets. The armed curates and
chaplains watched what was going on, and when they saw the premier
syndic with ex-syndic Balard and the bishop's secretary enter the inn,
they guessed that they were about to conduct Farel before the episcopal
council, and had immediately made it known to their followers, to the
women and the common people. When the three reformers, accompanied by
the three Genevans, came out, there was already a little crowd in front
of the Tour Perce. The number increased as they proceeded along the
streets which lead from the banks of the Rhone to the top of the hill;
but the populace and the women were content to threaten and jeer at the
reformers, crying out as loud as they could, 'Look at the dogs, look at
the dogs.'[520] Thanks to the presence of the magistrates, the three
reformers arrived safe and sound in the Rue des Chanoines and entered
the house of the vicar episcopal. As those who were within as well as
those who were without had equally sworn Farel's death, it seemed
impossible for him to escape. The three evangelicals had to wait some
time; in fact the syndics had preceded them, and required of the
episcopal council that no harm should be done the ministers if they
freely explained their doctrines. This engagement having been taken,
Farel, Saunier, and Olivetan were called in, the two magistrates
remaining in the assembly to secure order.

[Sidenote: VEIGY'S INVECTIVES.]

The abbot-vicar of Bonmont presided; on his right and left sat the
canons, the bishop's officers, and the head priests, all in their
sacerdotal robes. The missionary, simply but decently dressed, came
forward followed by his two friends, and all three remained standing
before the assembly. The official, Messire de Veigy, a learned and
eloquent man, was ordered to speak. 'William Farel,' he said, 'tell me
who has sent you, for what reason you come here, and in virtue of what
authority you speak?' In Veigy's opinion it was necessary for the
preacher to be sent by some Romish ecclesiastical authority. Farel
replied with simplicity, 'I am sent by God, and I am come to announce
his word.' 'Poor wretch!' exclaimed the priests, as they shrugged their
shoulders. The official resumed: 'God has sent you, you say; how is
that? Can you show by any manifest sign that you are come in His name?
As Moses before Pharaoh, will you prove to us by miracles that you
really come from God? If you cannot, then show us the licence of our
most reverend prelate the Bishop of Geneva. Preacher never yet preached
in his diocese without his leave.'

Here the official paused; and then disdainfully scanning the reformer
from head to foot, he said: 'You do not wear the dress that is usual for
those who are accustomed to announce the Word of God to us.... You are
dressed like a soldier or a brigand.... How is it you are so bold as to
preach? Is it not forbidden by a decree of holy church for laymen to
preach in public under pain of excommunication? That is contained in the
decretals of our holy mother church.... You are, therefore, a deceiver
and a bad man.'[521] Farel believed that it was his duty to announce the
Word of God, because Jesus Christ had said, _Preach the Gospel to every
creature_. He thought that the true successors of the apostles were
those who conformed to Christ's order, and that (as Calvin says), 'the
pope of Rome and all his tribe had no claim to that apostolical
succession which they alleged, since they no longer cared for the
doctrine of Christ.'[522] The clergy in whose presence he was standing
did not allow him time to speak. At last they had before them the
terrible heretic of whom they had been talking so many years. The
official's words had still further aroused their passions; they could no
longer contain themselves. Pale with anger they shuddered and clattered
with their feet as they sat. At last the mine exploded; they all spoke
at once, pouring insult and abuse on the reformer. Their excitement
carried them away; they rose from their seats, rushed upon him, and
pulling him now this way, now that, exclaimed, 'Come, Farel, you wicked
devil, what business have you to go up and down, disturbing all the
world?... Are you baptized? Where were you born? Where do you come from?
Why did you come here? Tell us by whose authority you preach? Are you
not the man who propagated Luther's heresies at Aigle and Neuchatel, and
threw the whole country into confusion? Who sent you into this city?'
The noise and tumult would not permit either Farel or the grand vicar to
speak; the weapons were heard to rattle which some of the priests
carried under their frocks. Farel remained still and silent in the midst
of this raging sea. At last Messire de Bonmont succeeded in interposing
his authority, made his colleagues resume their seats, and silence was
restored.[523] Then the reformer, nobly lifting up his head, said with
great simplicity, 'My lords, I am not a devil. I was baptized in the
name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, and if I journey to and fro, it
is that I may preach Jesus Christ—Jesus Christ crucified, dead for our
sins, and risen again for our justification, so that whosoever believeth
in Him shall have everlasting life. As an ambassador of Jesus Christ I
am compelled to teach Him to all who are willing to hear me. I have,
however, no other right to speak than that which the commandment of God
gives to me His servant. My only aim is so to discharge my duty that all
the world may receive salvation, and it is for this cause and for no
other that I am come into this city. Having been brought before you to
give an account of my faith, I am ready to do so, not only at this
moment, but as many times as you please to hear me peaceably. What I
have preached and still preach is the pure truth and not a heresy, and I
will maintain it even unto death. As for what you say about my
disturbing the land and this city in particular, I will answer as Elijah
did to Ahab, _I have not troubled Israel, but thou and thy father's
house_. Yes, it is you and yours who trouble the world by your
traditions, your human inventions, and your dissolute lives.'[524]

[Sidenote: THREATS AGAINST FAREL.]

The priests, astonished at the calm, simple, free and spirited language
of the reformer, had listened to him in silence so far, but the moment
they heard him speak of their human inventions and irregular lives, his
words were like daggers and disturbed their wicked consciences. It might
have been said that the infernal deities (it is the expression of a
reformer) were hovering about them and left them no repose. 'They fixed
their burning eyes on Farel; they gnashed their teeth,' says a
manuscript; and one of them starting up in a passion said:
'Blasphematur, non amplius indigemus testibus. Reus est mortis.'[525]
This was the signal for a scene more savage than the former. All rose
again, some impelled by violence and pride, others believing they were
supporting the cause of religion, and exclaimed: 'To the Rhone, to the
Rhone! kill him, kill him! It is better for this rascally Lutheran to
die than permit him to trouble all the people.'[526] These words,
without being those which the high-priest uttered against Christ were
very like them. Farel was struck by the resemblance. 'Speak the words of
God and not of Caiaphas,' he exclaimed. At these words the exasperated
priests could contain themselves no longer. They all started up together
and shouted out: 'Kill him, kill the Lutheran hound!' Dom Bergeri,
proctor to the chapter, still more excited than the others, urged them
on, exclaiming in his Savoyard dialect: _Tapa, tapa!_ (which, adds
Froment, means 'Strike, strike!') The sentence was immediately carried
into execution; they surrounded the three reformers; some caught hold of
Farel, others of Saunier, and others of Olivetan. They abused them, beat
them, spat in their faces, and uttered all sorts of cries, so that it
was like a pandemonium. In the midst of all this uproar Farel and his
companions 'preserved their patience and moderation.' The abbot of
Bonmont, syndics Hugues and Balard, and even a few priests, ashamed of
such a scene, tried to put an end to it. 'It is not well done,' said the
abbot, 'have we not pledged our word and honour to them?' Syndic Hugues,
a just, quick, and energetic man, disgusted with the behaviour of the
ecclesiastics, broke out at last. 'You are wicked men,' he said; 'we
brought you these men on your promise that no harm should be done them,
and you want to beat and kill them before our faces.... I will go and
set the great bell ringing to convoke the general council. The assembled
people shall decide.' Hugues was leaving the room to go and put his
threat into execution, when Balard, the other magistrate, desiring to
prevent anything that might compromise the cause of Rome, endeavoured to
calm him. However the syndic's threat had produced its effect; the
priests alarmed at the thought of a general assembly of the citizens,
and fearing lest it should decree their expulsion from Geneva, returned
to their seats rather ashamed of themselves. The abbot, taking advantage
of this new lull, desired Farel and his friends to withdraw, in order
that the episcopal council might deliberate. Farel left the room covered
with spittle and severely bruised.[527]

[Sidenote: FAREL ASSAULTED.]

While the superior clergy were behaving in this way, the inferior clergy
were assembling, and about eighty priests had collected before the house
of the vicar-episcopal, 'all well armed with clubs to defend the holy
catholic faith and prepared to die for it.' This mode of defending
religion, so different from that of the first fathers of the church, has
been made known to us through the reverend Sister Jeanne de Jussie. The
priests were stout, resolute men; they had formed a plot and were there
to carry it into execution. 'They wished,' adds Sister Jeanne, 'to put
that wretch and his accomplices to a bitter death.'[528] Such was the
exploit they contemplated, and for its accomplishment they carefully
surrounded the grand-vicar's house. They filled the narrow area of the
Puits St. Pierre and the Rue des Chanoines, and had even penetrated into
M. de Bonmont's courtyard and garden, so that it was impossible for
Farel to escape. The fanatical and agitated crowd, which had been there
for some time, was beginning to grow impatient that the episcopal
council sat so long. Farel and his two friends, when they had turned
into a long gallery, could hear the raised voices of some of the members
of the council, and the increasing noise of the crowd that filled the
courtyard. But another danger threatened them.

One of the grand-vicar's servants, Francis Olard, surnamed Ginin, a
violent man, stood at the end of the gallery, having been posted there
arquebus in hand, as a sentinel. He had listened to the tumult from
within; the shouting from without excited and inflamed him. Was not this
Farel the enemy of his masters—a heretic whom everybody wished dead? His
weapon was ready: he levelled it at Farel and prepared to fire. Had the
priests stationed Olard there for this purpose, as the chronicles say,
or did he act of his own accord, being more fanatical than his masters,
as the servants of political or ecclesiastical corporations often are?
Be it as it may, the arquebusier pulled the trigger, the priming
flashed ... but the gun did not go off. Farel turning to him said coldly:
'I am not to be shaken by a popgun; your toy does not alarm
me.'—'Verily,' said his friends, 'God of His mercy turned aside
the blow, in order to preserve Farel for struggles still more
formidable.'[529]

[Sidenote: DANGER OF FAREL AND HIS FRIENDS.]

Meanwhile the council were still deliberating, and many wished Farel to
be put to death. Heresy in that age, as is but too well known, was
punished capitally; but the magistrates pointed to the danger of using
violence towards the preacher of the lords of Berne. Their opinion
prevailed, and the reformers having been brought into the room again,
the grand-vicar said: 'William Farel, leave my presence and this house,
and within six hours get you gone from the city with your two
companions, under pain of the stake. And know that if the sentence is
not more severe, you must ascribe it to our kindness and to our respect
for my lords of Berne.'—'You condemn us unheard,' said Farel. 'I demand
a certificate to show at Berne that I have done my duty.'—'You shall not
have one,' the abbot hastily replied; 'leave the room all of you,
without a word more.'[530]

The priests and people collected in front of the house, learning that
Farel was about to appear, crowded one upon another, uttering angry
cries. It would seem that the reformer heard them and stopped an
instant, knowing full well what was in reserve for him. It was in truth
a solemn moment, perhaps his last. 'The caitiff dared not come out,'
said Sister Jeanne, afterwards Abbess of Annecy, 'for he had heard the
noise made by the church people before the door, and feared they would
put him to death.' Seeing that Farel hesitated, two of the senior canons
addressed him coarsely: 'As you will not go out willingly, and in God's
name,' they said, 'go out in the name of all the devils, whose minister
and servant you are.' Thus spoke a few fanatical priests. Their God was
the church, and there was no salvation for the sinner except in the
sacrifice of the mass: in them imagination took the place of
understanding, and passion of judgment. They had no idea of the living
faith which animated the hearts of Farel and his friends, and looked
upon them as impious. Putting aside the holy authority and wise precepts
of scripture, they had no other rule than strong attachment to their
church and the excess of zeal which carried them away. Inflamed by
violent passion they did not confine themselves to abuse. The sister of
St. Claire is far from wishing to conceal their exploits: 'One of them,'
she says, 'gave him a hard kick, the other struck him heavily on the
head and face; and in great confusion they put him out with his two
companions.'[531]

[Sidenote: ATTEMPT TO STAB FAREL.]

Farel, Saunier, and Olivetan quitted the house, and thus escaped the
ill-treatment of those reverend gentlemen. But turned out of doors by
the canons, they fell from Scylla into Charybdis: they had to experience
still more culpable excesses of religious fanaticism. The priests,
chaplains, sacristans, and the furious populace assembled in the street,
hooted, hissed, groaned, and howled; some threateningly flourished their
weapons. It was like an impetuous hurricane that seemed as if it would
sweep everything before it. It was a human tempest more terrible perhaps
than that of the winds:

                Venti, velut agmine facto,
  Qua data porta ruunt, et terras turbine perflant;
  Insequitur clamorque virum stridorque rudentum.[532]

On a sudden there was a movement in the crowd, those who were on the
outside falling back in alarm upon their comrades: there was a body of
armed men approaching. At this time up came the syndics and all the
watch with their halberds. 'Pray, sir priests,' said they, 'do nothing
rash.' The mob gave way. 'We are come to execute justice,' added the
magistrates. Upon this they took 'the caitiff,' placed him and his
companions in the midst of the guard, and all marched off in the
direction of the Tour Perce, the crowd parting right and left to make
way for the escort. The priests, fourscore in number, kept together,
forming a dark and agitated group, and so stationed themselves that the
three ministers must necessarily pass before them on their road to the
inn. They had heard that Farel and his friends were to be expelled from
the city; 'but the worthy men could not be satisfied with this,' says
Sister Jeanne. Considering that the syndics and even the episcopal
council refused to do justice to them, they were resolved to take the
matter into their own hands. Just as the three preachers were passing in
front of them, one of them rushed forward sword in hand upon Farel 'to
run him through.'[533] One of the syndics who was at the reformer's side
saw him, caught the assassin by the arm, and stopped him. This act of
the magistrate seriously grieved the devout. Laymen who prevented the
clergy from killing their adversaries were looked upon as impious. 'Many
were chagrined,' says the good nun innocently, 'because the blow
failed.' The halberdiers closed their ranks, thrust the priests and
their creatures aside, and the reformers continued on their way. The
mob, finding they could not touch the Lutherans, compensated themselves
with hooting. In every street through which they passed, men and women
cried out that they ought to be flung into the Rhone. At length the
procession reached the Tour Perce; the reformers entered, and the
syndics left a guard.

[Sidenote: FAREL'S DEPARTURE.]

They must go—of that there could be no doubt. Farel and his friends
might have been overwhelmed with sorrow, and have fainted in the midst
of their work; but their Heavenly Master had said, _When they persecute
you in this city, flee ye into another_. (Matth. x. 23.) What grieved
them was the thought of the generous men who had listened to them; these
Farel was determined not to abandon. If the tempest obliged him to
depart, he would take advantage of the first moment of calm weather to
introduce into Geneva that Gospel which many huguenots desired with all
their heart. The next day (4th October) a few citizens, friends of the
reformer, rose early, got ready a boat near the Molard, and went to the
Tour Perce to fetch the missionaries, hoping that if the latter set off
betimes they would not be observed. But the priest-party was quite as
matutinal as they were: some of them were already before the door, and
it is probable they had been there all night for fear the huguenots
should take advantage of the darkness to get the ministers away. Claude
Bernard, Ami Perrin, John Goulaz, and Peter Verne—all stanch
huguenots—came up; they gave the signal, a door was opened, and they
entered the inn. A few moments elapsed during which a number of priests
and citizens assembled in that part of the Rue du Rhone which lies
between the Tour Perce and the Molard. Presently the inn door opened
again, and the four huguenots came out with Farel and Saunier. When they
saw them the crowd became agitated. 'The devils are going,' shouted the
priests, as the two evangelists and their friends passed along. Farel,
seeing the numbers around him, wished to exhort them, 'as he walked
along;' but Perrin would not permit it, representing to him that it was
necessary to push on quickly for fear the priests should block the way.
When the reformers reached the water's edge, they got into the boat with
their defenders. The boatmen immediately began to row, and the crowd
that lined the shore could do nothing but hoot. Perrin, fearing
violence, would not land at any of the towns or hamlets of Vaud, but
steered the boat to an unfrequented place between Morges and Lausanne.
Here they all got on shore and embraced each other; after which the
huguenots returned to Geneva, and the reformers made their way to Orbe
and thence to Grandson.

[520] 'Ce sont des cagnes, ce qui veut dire (adds Froment) ce sont des
chiens.'

[521] La Sœur de Jussie, _le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 47.

[522] Calvin, _Harmonie évangelique_, 1. p. 757.

[523] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 5. Choupard MS.

[524] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 6. Choupard MS. Choupard gives some
features that are not found in Froment.

[525] He hath spoken blasphemy; what further need have we of witnesses?
He is guilty of death.—Matth. xxvi. 65, 66.

[526] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 7. 'In Rhodanum, in Rhodanum! unum hunc
Lutherum necari præstat.'—Turretin MS. in the Berne library.

[527] 'Sputis madidatus et pugnis contritus.'—Spanheim, _Geneva
restituta_. Froment, _Gestes_, pp. 5-7. Choupard and Roset, MSS.
&c.

[528] _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 17.

[529] 'Ictus tamen divina bonitate aversus, Deo servum suum certo
periculo eripiente.'—Spanheim, _Geneva restituta_, p. 43. Froment,
_Gestes de Genève_, p. 3. Roset MS. liv. iii. ch. 1.

[530] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_ p. 48.

[531] La sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain_, &c., pp. 47, 48.

[532]

  The raging winds rush through the hollow wound,
  And dance aloft in air, and skim along the ground;
  The cables crack, the sailors' fearful cries
  Ascend.

  DRYDEN.

[533] "Pour le transpercer au travers du corps."—La Sœur de Jussie, p.
48.




 CHAPTER IX.
 A JOURNEY TO THE VALLEYS OF PIEDMONT, AND STRUGGLES NEAR NEUCHATEL.
 (END OF 1532.)


[Sidenote: FAREL AND FROMENT.]

Farel expelled from Geneva, with a heart full of love for those whom he
had been obliged to quit, meditated on the means of evangelising them,
and like a skilful general, was preparing even during his retreat for a
new and more successful struggle. After having saluted the Christians of
Orbe and Grandson he departed for the village of Yvonand, on the
southern shore of the lake of Neuchatel, where dwelt a youthful
Christian Anthony Froment by name, born at Val de Frières in Dauphiny in
1510, and consequently a year younger than Calvin and his countryman
Farel. The reformer invited several evangelists to meet him in this
village, and about the middle of October there came Olivetan, who had
been unable to stay in Geneva after the departure of his two friends;
Adam, Martin (probably Martin Gonin the Waldensian), and Guido (who must
not be confounded with the Belgian reformer Guido or Guy von Brès) who
with Farel, Saunier, Froment, and others formed a little council. Farel
gave an account of his mission: he described his journey to the valleys
of Piedmont, and the stormy reception he had met with at Geneva. They
all looked with interest on the fugitive missionary who had escaped as
by a miracle from the violence of the Genevan priests. Froment in
particular could not take his eyes off the reformer; every word of
Farel's made a deep impression on him, and disgusted with the ministers
of popery, he pitied the fate of the huguenots deprived of God's word by
the intrigues of the clergy. Farel, fixing his eyes on him, said: 'Go
and try if you can find an entrance into Geneva to preach there.'[534]
Froment was disturbed and speechless. He possessed learning and talents;
but he was young and without experience, and wanted that perseverance
and firmness by which other reformers were distinguished. His feelings
were sensitive, his imagination was ardent, but his character was uneven
and rather fickle. He is believed to have been drawn to the Reformation
more by witnessing the excesses of Rome than by the inner charms of the
Word of God.

'Alas! father,' he said to Farel, 'how can I face the enemies from whom
you were compelled to flee?'—'Begin,' replied Farel, 'as I began at
Aigle, where I was a schoolmaster at first and taught little children,
so that even the priests gave me liberty to preach. True they soon
repented; and even now I seem to hear the curate exclaiming: "I would
sooner have lost my hand than introduced this man, for he will ruin all
our business." But it was too late; the Word of God had begun its work,
and the mass and images fell.' Froment, who was at that time full of
ardour and zeal, began to familiarise himself gradually with the idea of
going to the city that drove out the prophets. Farel, observing this,
persevered, and encouraged his disciple by the recollection of the great
dangers they had once incurred together. 'My dear Froment,' he said,
'you fear the men of Geneva; but were you not with me when I planted the
Gospel at Bienne, among the mountains, in the valley of Saint Imier, at
Tavannes, and near that mountain (Pierre Pertuis) which Julius Cæsar
tunnelled?... Were you not with me when I went to Neuchatel and preached
in the streets and market-place, and in the surrounding villages? Do you
not remember that we very often received our rent (_censes_), that is,
blows and abuse ... once in particular at Valengin, where my blood
remained for more than four years on the pavement of a little chapel,
near which the women and priests bruised my head against the walls, so
that we were both of us nearly killed?'[535] These remembrances were not
very encouraging. Some sided with Farel, others thought that a man of
twenty-two was too young to be launched into such a terrible gulf ...
for Geneva really alarmed them. Froment could not yet make up his mind
to attempt the enterprise. Another thought absorbed Farel.

[Sidenote: OLIVETAN'S SCRUPLES OVERCOME.]

That pious reformer's heart was still full of the glorious synod of the
valleys at which it had been decided to translate the Bible. He had
several times already entreated Olivetan to undertake that great work:
he repeated his entreaties both in the assembly and in private. Near
Yvonand there is a number of hills which form a sort of labyrinth around
a little river. Beautiful forests of majestic oaks stretch their
branches so wide and high that it is possible to walk beneath their
immense leafy arches—a circumstance which has earned for this district
the name of Arcadia. Was it in a private room or in these woods that
Farel urged Olivetan, as they trampled underfoot the dry leaves which
autumn had already loosened from the trees? I cannot tell: in either
case he no longer solicited, he 'importuned;'[536] but Olivetan—like
Froment with respect to Geneva—repeated his unwillingness to 'venture'
upon such a task. 'How,' said he, 'can I express Hebrew and Greek
eloquence in French, which is but a barbarous language compared with
them? You know it is as difficult as to teach the hoarse raven to sing
the song of the nightingale.'[537] Farel tried to encourage him: he
might do it. Olivetan's style is, considering the time, one of
remarkable elegance. But Calvin's cousin alleged other reasons: he had
certain fears. 'Such an undertaking,' he said, 'is like a ball in a
public building wherein everybody dances as he likes. I shall be
encompassed with critics, correctors, and calumniators.... They will not
be friends, I am very sure, but strangers devoid of charity, Christians
who will philosophise about the dot over an _i_, and bring forward a
thousand false imputations.'[538]—'St. Jerome undertook a similar work,'
said Farel. 'St. Jerome!' exclaimed Olivetan, 'he had more trouble in
answering such people than in all his work. How could I do it—I who am
but a petty page, a mere varlet, compared with such a knight?'[539] But
Farel pressed him so much that he thought himself bound to undertake it.
He promised, and it was well known that what he promised he would
perform.

Farel had won a great victory. The French churches would have a good
translation of scripture. But a journey was necessary. 'Cross the Alps,'
he said to his friend; 'go to the Waldensian valleys, and come to an
understanding with the brethren about the translation.' Then turning
towards other members of the synod, he added: 'And you, Adam Martin and
Guido, go with him and preach to them the doctrine that will correct all
their errors.'

This mission, which was to result in the publication of the Bible in
French, was not without importance or without danger. The evangelists
proposed to take the direct road by Mount St. Bernard; but before
reaching the lake of Geneva they would have to cross a district
belonging to the Duke of Savoy. Now the duke, the Count of Challans, and
the Sieur de Bellegarde were not at all anxious that the Waldensians of
the Piedmontese valleys should unite with the reformers of Switzerland.
The four friends determined, therefore, to travel by night. Having
supped at Yvonand with Farel and the other brethren, they began their
journey immediately after. It was at the end of October. They travelled
through the darkness, led by a guide who knew the country well. They
successfully accomplished their night journey, and arrived at Vevey the
next day before dinner-time. They began immediately to speak of Christ,
for they had no wish to fall into sloth and carelessness.[540] From
Vevey they proceeded to Aigle, where they found the evangelical
Christians of the place assembled to receive them. 'I salute you in
Christ,' said Adam, 'and exhort you to reprove one another as becomes
brethren and ministers of the word of truth.'[541]

[Sidenote: A MINISTER'S HOME.]

When they had almost reached the pretty village of Bex, in the midst of
its orchards and walnut trees, in front of the picturesque Dent de
Morcles, and the huge Dent du Midi, Martin was attacked with severe
pains. His companions immediately looked for a house where they could
lodge the sick man, but the country was so poor that they could not find
a room fit to receive him.[542] These poor brethren were on the highway
with their suffering friend, anxious and yet not knowing what to do.
Some one told them that about a league behind them, at the village of
Ollon, lived the minister Claude who would gladly receive them. They
accordingly retraced their steps, and arrived at Ollon, a little place
in the midst of the shady woods which extend to the foot of the mountain
on which are situated the charming hamlets of Chesières and Villars.
They asked for the pastor's house and it was shown them; they dragged
their friend to it and knocked at the door. Claude opened it himself,
and at the sight of a pale and fainting man invited the strangers in.
But on a sudden hasty footsteps were heard, a woman appeared flushed
with anger and with fiery eyes—a violent, wicked, pitiless, scolding
woman: she was the unfortunate pastor's wife. She screamed and
gesticulated, and instead of being grave, as Scripture requires such
women to be, she forgot all restraint and broke out: 'What's this, a
sick man? If you receive him into the house, I will leave it.'[543]
Claude durst not say a word: the voice of this Xantippe rose higher and
higher, and at last she turned her back on her husband and the
strangers, and disappeared in a passion.[544] Poor Claude was sorely
vexed and ashamed. 'We will not be the cause of a divorce,' said Adam,
'we will go away.'[545] The pastor, a good but weak man, who could not
keep his wife in order, let them go.

[Sidenote: THE SUFFERING MISSIONARIES.]

Thus not a house was opened to receive an expiring missionary. The poor
evangelists were quite disheartened. 'Let us cheer up,' said they, 'and
make haste to reach the Alps.'[546] The four travellers resumed their
journey, Martin probably on horseback; but on arriving at the foot of
the mountain beyond Martigny his pains increased. Martin was half dead,
Olivetan suffered from an inflammation of the bowels, Guido was
exhausted with fatigue, and Adam alone was unaffected. But ere long he
too was attacked. Seized with cholera (it is his own word[547]) he
thought his end was come. The four missionaries dragged themselves
painfully along the brink of the torrent, whose noisy waters alone
disturbed the silence around them. They lifted their eyes mournfully
towards those gigantic mountains which it seemed impossible for them to
cross, and ineffectually sought a refuge in the poorest of cottages. One
thing, however, was left them—the faithfulness of their Master. They
said to one another: 'God takes us down into the abyss when He pleases,
but His grace is almighty to lift us out of it again.'[548] At this
moment they caught sight of a wretched house. They went up to it,
explained their condition, and happily they were received in
consideration of their money. God, whom they had invoked, alleviated
their disorder, and the next day they were able to resume their journey,
feebly at starting, but gradually the mountain air gave them strength.

They had been forced to incur extraordinary expenses, and Adam, who held
the purse, smiled as he saw its shrunken condition. Their good humour
began to return: he showed his friends the lean little bag, and said
merrily: 'Alas! our purse has been seized with such cruel pains in the
inside that there is scarcely anything left in it.'[549] They climbed
the mountain, and needing rest entered an inn situated between Martigny
and the convent of St. Bernard. They soon observed one of the monks, and
approaching him desired in spite of their weakness to discharge their
duty: they spoke to him of Jesus Christ, and of the grace he gives to
sinners. The monk, who belonged to the Augustine order, listened
attentively to their words, and began to talk with them, while the
evangelists pressed him closely by means of the Holy Scriptures. He was
touched and convinced. 'I will quit Antichrist,' he exclaimed. Adam
immediately took paper, sat down and wrote: 'Here is a letter for Master
Farel,' he said to the friar, 'go to him, and he will tell you what you
have to do.' The evangelist and the monk separated. Even down to our
days conversions have been effected among the brethren of this
monastery.

At last the four friends arrived among the Waldenses, who listened
joyfully to their words of truth and love: some of these Alpine
shepherds were even known to have gone two days' journey to hear
them.[550] These poor Christians handed over to Olivetan towards the
printing of the Bible 500 gold crowns—an immense sum for them, and
begged that the publication should be hurried on.[551] Olivetan and the
barbes came to terms. Here finishes this episode, which to some may have
little interest except so far as it is connected with the history of the
French protestant translation of the Holy Scriptures.

[Sidenote: DEPUTATION OF PEASANTS.]

When this news reached Farel, his eyes were fixed upon another country.
The young and gentle Fabri, whom the reformer loved as a father loves a
son, was preaching at Neuchatel, when one day he saw some peasants
arrive who had been deputed from the village of Bole in the parish of
Boudry. These good people entreated him to come and settle among them.
The parish priest, a worthy man by the way, looked upon the Gospel not
as a proclamation of grace, but as a second law more perfect than the
first. Having heard the reformers inveigh against the corruption that
prevailed in the church, he had at first gone with them; but he soon
hesitated and shrunk back, when he found that their new morality reposed
on a new faith. In fact the ministers who preached in those quarters
said that the Gospel substituted a regenerative doctrine for the dead
ordinances of the law; that Christ's religion did not consist in
practices commanded by the priests, or even in a purely outward
morality, but in a new heart from which proceeds a new life. 'The law,'
said Calvin in later years, 'is like grammar, which after it has taught
the first elements, refers the learners to theology or some other
science, in order that they may be perfected.' The priest of Boudry
would have thought himself but too happy to see his parishioners endowed
with that external morality which did not satisfy the evangelicals. A
zealous doctor of the law, he turned against the doctors of grace, and
hence it happened that a few of his parishioners hastened to Neuchatel.

Fabri followed these honest people, and the gentle and moderate reformer
was immediately engaged in a severe campaign. The village of Bole was
for the reformer; the little town of Boudry for the priest. There were
two places of worship in the parish, the church, and a chapel called the
Pontareuse, situated in a low out-of-the-way place. The government
decided that this should be for the use of both parties. Many catholics,
more fanatical than their priest, entered into a plot to oppose the
worship of the reformed. On the first Sunday in November 1532, the
latter went down full of peace and joy into the wild valley through
which flows the torrent of the Reuse, and where a few remains of the
little chapel are still visible. They entered and took their seats on
the benches, while Fabri went up into the pulpit. Meantime the
catholics, girding on their swords, which was not usually done, entered
the chapel and drew up near the altar.[552] While Fabri was preaching,
all the bells suddenly rang out together so as to drown his voice, and
the more he besought them to let him finish, the louder rang the
catholics in the belfry. Then those who were in the church began to
move, pushing and shouting. Fabri, seeing this disorder and profanation,
ceased speaking, and left the church. He had hardly got outside when the
catholics near the altar ran and shut the door, and fell like madmen on
the surprised, hesitating, and unarmed congregation.[553] The confusion
was very great, and it was this that saved the innocent. No one
distinguished friends from enemies: each man struck the first he met.
One or two evangelicals endeavoured to open the door, and at last they
succeeded and rushed out, but their position was not bettered. 'Their
adversaries, delighted at being able to distinguish them,' says an
eye-witness, 'fell upon them like wolves upon lambs, threatening them
with death.'[554] 'God help us!' exclaimed the poor people scattered
here and there. At last they succeeded in reaching their homes,
miraculously as it were, but with many bruises. They were happy at being
in peace. 'Our heavenly Father fought for us mightily,' they said.[555]
Clubs and swords only served to increase their repugnance for that
theocratical tyranny which men had substituted for the mild gospel of
Jesus Christ.

[Sidenote: A PROTESTANT RISING.]

The next day some of the reformed went to Neuchatel against the advice
of Fabri, who desired to wait for deliverance from the Lord and not from
men. To the friends who met them on the road, they told the story of the
plot to which they had nearly been victims. All the villages between
Boudry and Neuchatel were in commotion, and the peasants of Auvernier
and Colombier flew to arms, ready to join the Neuchatelans if they went
to the help of their brethren.[556] The council of Neuchatel decreed
that henceforth the chapel of Pontareuse should belong entirely to the
reformed.

The catholics resolved to pay no attention to this. On Christmas day the
priest had already sung two masses before the hour appointed for the
evangelical preaching; and at the moment when the reformers arrived, he
resolutely began high mass 'with loud and long singing,' although there
was scarcely anybody to hear it. The reformed waited patiently, but when
the service was ended, and just as they were hoping that their turn had
come, they were surprised to see the catholics arriving in a crowd.
Fabri then wanted to go into the pulpit, but had great difficulty; one
pushed him one way, and one another, and all shouted out against
him.[557] Order being a little restored, one of the reformers went, as
was customary, to take a chalice for the celebration of the Lord's
Supper. The priest who had remained in the church, watching what was
going on, rushed upon him and snatched the vessel from his hands, crying
out, 'Sacrilege! Sacrilege!' The friends of the priests determined to
put an end to the service once for all. 'Some of them rushed like raging
lions upon the reformed, and hit them with their fists; and one of them
struck a governor (probably one of the communal councillors) with a
knife; but God,' says the document we quote, 'permitted only his clothes
to be pierced.' This did not end the battle. Others, going to a room
behind the altar, where they had hidden some large sticks, dealt their
blows lustily on all sides. The women rushed into the vineyards, tore up
the vine-props, and brought them to as many of their husbands as had
neither sticks nor knives. Some of them left the chapel and picked up
stones to throw at the minister, who was still in the pulpit, and kill
him. From every side they fell upon the poor evangelicals, calling them
'Rascally dogs!' Even the _sautier_ of Boudry, whose duty it was to
preserve order, joined in the riot, threw off his official robe, and
loudly hooting, struck harder than the rest. The parish priest, who
loved the law so much, had suddenly lost his balance. Incensed, and
beside himself, stripped to his doublet, and 'bareheaded like a
brigand,'[558] he directed the battle. His friends, well provided with
arquebuses, bludgeons, knives, and other weapons, seeing that the
evangelists had rallied round their pastor, rushed upon them, intending
to kill many of them; 'but it was God's will that this wolf should be
stopped on the way,' says the official document, 'and be driven back
into his den.' The reformed, who parried the blows as well as they could
with their hands only, at last succeeded in reaching their houses. They
told their relations and friends what had happened, and gave God thanks.
'It is indeed a great miracle,' they said with emotion, 'that there was
nobody killed. But the Lord Jesus Christ is a Good Shepherd; he keeps
his sheep so well in the midst of the sword, the fire, the lions, and
even death itself, that the wolves cannot snatch them out of his hand.'

[Sidenote: A PRIEST HEADS THE RIOT.]

While these songs of thanksgiving were being sung in the houses of the
evangelists, the curé was triumphing in the church. The battle was
scarcely terminated by the retreat of the reformed, when, proud of the
victory he had won by stones and clubs, he laid down the stake with
which he had armed himself, covered his head, arranged his disordered
doublet, put on his sacerdotal robes, and entered the church of Boudry
with a grave and composed air. Seeing it full, and wishing to profit by
the advantage he had gained, he went into the pulpit and exclaimed in
his burlesque manner: 'Some strangers have come of their own accord into
this country. One comes from Paris, another from Lyons, and a third from
I do not know where. This one is called Master Anthony, that one Master
Berthoud, another Master William, a fourth Master Froment (_i.e._
_wheat_) with _barley_ or _oats_.... They carry a book in their hands
and boast of having the Holy Ghost. But if they had the Holy Ghost,
would they want a book? The apostles who were filled with the Holy Ghost
understood without book all languages and all mysteries. My brethren,
will you believe a stranger before a man of the country whom you know?
Do not associate with those devils; they will lead you into hell; but
come to confession as all your forefathers have done; open yourselves to
me upon the seven deadly sins, the five natural senses, and the ten
commandments. Do not be afraid; your consciences will be cleansed of all
evil. Put me to death in case I do not prove all I have told you.'[559]
The catholics left the church very proud of such a fine discourse.

[Sidenote: REFORM ADVANCES AT NEUCHATEL.]

Some of the friends of the reformed hurried off to Fabri, and reported
to him that the priest offered to prove all he had said, particularly
that he could absolve from the seven deadly sins and those of the five
senses. Without loss of time Fabri appeared before the castellan and
councillors of Boudry, and asked for a public disputation, offering to
die in case he could not show that all he had preached was true, and
that what the priest had said was false. The latter bluntly refused all
public discussion; he did not like combats of that kind, and compensated
himself in another fashion.

One day, as he sat half undressed at his window watching the birds as
they darted through the air, and the people who were walking in the
street, he saw Fabri passing in front of his house. In great excitement
he called to him and began abusing him: 'Gaol-bird! forger!' he said,
stretching his head out of window; 'tell me why you corrupt Holy
Scripture?' Fabri, hoping the curé would grant him the discussion he had
so much desired, made answer: 'Come down and bring out your Bible; we
will take a clerk who can read it to the people, and I will show you
that I am no forger.' At these words the alarmed priest exclaimed: 'I
have something else to do besides disputing with a gaol-bird like you;'
and he retired hastily from the window. Such were the struggles the
reformers had to go through in order to transform the church. This
transformation was going on, and ere long the whole principality of
Neuchatel was won to the Reformation.

In 1532 it penetrated into the mountain regions among the shepherds and
hunters of Locle and Chaux de Fonds. Claude d'Arberg, who had so often
followed the chase in these mountains, had built an oratory there to St.
Hubert, the hunters' patron saint. The saint (says the legend) was once
met by a bear, which killed his horse, but Hubert got on the bear's
back, and rode him home to the great astonishment of everybody. A more
formidable hunter was now about to tame the bears of these parts. Jean
de Bély, the evangelist of Fontaine, having gone to Locle at the time of
the fair of St. Magdalen, Madame Guillemette de Vergy had him seized
instantly and forced him to dispute for two hours in her presence with
the curé, Messire Besancenet. 'Put him in prison,' said the countess,
who was offended at his doctrines; but whilst the high-born dame was so
irritated at what she had heard, the priest, a good-natured man,
interceded in the kindest manner in favour of the heretic. The lady
released him, and the worthy vicar, taking Bély by the arm, led him
graciously to the parsonage, and drank wine with him. Already people
said that the mountain bears were beginning to be tamed.

From Locle the Gospel made its way to Chaux de Fonds, and thence to
Brenets (1534). The earnest mountaineers had taken the images out of the
church, desiring to _worship God in spirit and in truth_, and were
preparing to break them in pieces and throw them into the Doubs, when
they saw two fine oxen approaching, driven by some devout inhabitants
from a neighbouring village of Franche Comté. 'We offer you these
beasts,' said they, 'in exchange for your pictures and statues.'—'Pray
take them,' said the people of Brenets. The Franche-Comtois gathered up
the idols, the Neuchatelans drove away the oxen, and 'each thought they
had made a fine exchange,' says a chronicler.

With the exception of one village, the evangelical faith was established
throughout the whole principality of Neuchatel, without the aid of the
prince and the lords, and indeed in spite of them. A hand mightier than
theirs was breaking the bonds, removing the obstacles, and emancipating
souls. The Reformation triumphed: and after God, it was Farel's
work.[560]

[534] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 10.

[535] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 10, 11. The Choupard MS. (p.
490) mentions Anthony Boive, also from Dauphiny, as Farel's companion.
Did both Anthonys accompany the reformer? It is very probable. (See the
_Hist. of the Reformation_, vol. iv. book xv. ch. 11.)

[536] Olivetan's Bible: _Apologie du translateur_.

[537] Ibid.

[538] Ibid.

[539] Olivetan's Bible: _Apologie du translateur_.

[540] 'Ab Yvoniaco a cœna solvimus, et Viviacum venimus pransum, ubi de
Christo locuti sumus.'—Adam to Farel from the Valleys, 5 Nov. 1532,
Choupard MS. The letter from which we take these particulars has escaped
notice until now.

[541] 'Ut si monerent invicem quemadmodum fratres et verbi veritatis
ministros.'—Ibid.

[542] 'Nullum erat cubiculum.'—Ibid.

[543] 'Verum uxor garrula et duræ cervicis, pietate vacans, cœpit minari
marito de discessu.'—Adam to Farel, Choupard MS.

[544] 'Furibunda abivit.'—Ibid.

[545] 'Ne divortii causa essemus.'—Choupard MS.

[546] 'Properamus ad Alpes.'—Ibid.

[547] 'Quo mærore in pede Alpium me colera tam crudeliter
invasit.'—Ibid.

[548] 'Gratia illius, qui quum videtur nos ducit ad inferos et
reducit.'—Choupard MS.

[549] 'At crumenæ nostræ linteria cœperunt laborare tam aspere, ut nihil
prorsus in illorum corpore remanserit.'—Ibid.

[550] 'Veniunt a locis distantibus a nobis itinere duorum
dierum.'—Choupard MS.

[551] 'Ad typographum dati sunt quingenti aurei.'—Ibid.

[552] 'Gladiis omnes ejusdem factionis præter consuetudinem
cincti.'—Fabri to Farel, Choupard MS. The particulars, which we extract
from this letter, were unknown until now.

[553] 'Illi plusquam insani recta irruerunt in nos gladiis
evaginatis.'—Ibid.

[554] 'Lupina rabie oviculos aggrediuntur mortem minantes.'—Fabri to
Farel, Choupard MS.

[555] 'Optimus pater qui pro nobis potenter adeo pugnavit.'—Ibid.

[556] 'Accincti ad arma toto spectarunt die si Neocomenses
proficiscerentur.'—Ibid.

[557] Requête de MM. les gouverneurs de Bâle à MM. les maîtres bourgeois
de Neuchatel.—Choupard MS.

[558] "Tête nue comme un brigand."—Requête de MM. les gouverneurs de
Bâle, &c.—Choupard MS.

[559] Choupard MS.

[560] Chambrier, _Hist. de Neuchatel_, p. 229.




 CHAPTER X.
 THE SCHOOLMASTER AND CLAUDINE LEVET.
 (NOVEMBER AND DECEMBER 1532.)


[Sidenote: FRESH ATTEMPTS UPON GENEVA.]

Farel, seeing his labours in these different localities crowned with a
success that promised to be lasting, turned his eyes with all the more
ardour to Geneva. The numerous victories of Neuchatel and Vaud seemed to
augur new ones to be gained in the city of the huguenots. There were,
however, great obstacles. A fanatical party, directed by monks and
priests, was opposed to all change, and even the enlightened catholics,
who desired the abolition of crying abuses, kept repeating that the
church ought first of all to be maintained, and then reformed. 'A
purification is not enough,' said Farel; 'a transformation is wanted.'
But who was to bring it about? He had been banished from Geneva, and for
a time could not return there.

Froment, young, poor, simple-minded, but intelligent, had refused to
undertake so difficult a task. Farel tried once more. Froment did not
understand how the attack of one of the strongest fortresses of the
enemy could be entrusted to so young a man. 'Fear nothing,' said Farel;
'you will find men in Geneva quite ready to receive you, and your very
obscurity will protect you. God will be your guide, and will guard your
holy enterprise.'[561] Froment yielded, but felt humbled; and reflecting
on the task entrusted to him, he fell on his knees: 'O God,' he said, 'I
trust in no human power, but place myself entirely in thy hands. To thee
I commit my cause, praying thee to guide it, for it is thine.'[562] He
did not pray alone. The little flock at Yvonand, affected at this call
which was about to take away their pastor, said: 'O God, give him grace
to be useful for the advancement of thy Word!' The brethren embraced,
and Froment departed, 'going to Geneva,' he tells us, 'with prayers and
blessings.' It was the 1st November 1532.

He reached Lausanne, whence he took his way along the shore of the lake
towards Geneva. The poor young man stopped sometimes on the road, and
asked himself whether the enterprise he was about to attempt was not
sheer madness. 'No,' he said, 'I will not shrink back; for it is by the
small and weak things of this world that God designs to confound the
great.' And then he resumed his journey.

The Genevese were much occupied at that time with signs in the heaven. A
strange blaze shone in the firmament; every night their eyes were fixed
upon a long train of light, and the most learned endeavoured to divine
the prognostics to be drawn from it. 'At the new moon,' says a
manuscript, 'there appeared a comet, at two in the morning, which was
visible from the 26th September to the 14th of the following month.
About this time Anthony Froment arrived in Geneva.'[563] Many huguenots,
irritated at the reception given to Farel, despaired of seeing Geneva
reformed, and its liberties settled on a firm basis. Some, however, who
were adepts in astronomy, wondered whether that marvellous sheen did not
foretel that a divine light would also illuminate the country. They
waited, and Froment appeared.

[Sidenote: FROMENT COLDLY RECEIVED.]

The young Dauphinese was at first much embarrassed. He tried to enter
into conversation with one and another, but they were very short with
the stranger. He hoped to find 'some acquaintance with whom he could
retire safely and familiarly;' but he saw none but strange faces.
'Alas!' he said, 'I cannot tell what to do, except it be to return, for
I find no door to preach the Gospel.'[564] Then, calling to mind the
names of the chief huguenots, friends of Farel, who (as he said) would
give him the warmest welcome, Froment resolved to apply to them, and
waited upon Baudichon de la Maison-Neuve, Claude Bernard, J. Goulaz,
Vandel, and Ami Perrin, ... but strange to say he everywhere met with
embarrassed manners and long faces. The mean appearance of the young
Dauphinese disconcerted even the best disposed. Farel (they thought)
might at least have sent a scholar, and not a working man. Geneva was an
important and learned city. There were men of capacity among the Roman
clergy, who must be opposed by a minister of good appearance, a
well-established doctor.... The huguenots bowed out the mean little man.
'Ah!' said Froment, returning to his inn, 'I found them so cold, so
timid, and so startled at what had been done to Farel and his
companions, that they dared not unbosom themselves, and still less
receive me into their houses.' Confounded and dejected at seeing all his
plans overthrown, he walked thoughtfully through the streets with his
eyes bent on the ground. He entered the inn, shut himself up in his
room, and asked himself what was to be done next. Those who seemed to
wish to hear the Gospel looked at him with contemptuous eyes. If he
spoke to any persons, they turned their backs on him. Not one door was
opened to the Word of God.... His feelings were soured. Wearied and
dejected he sank under the weight, and lost courage. 'I am greatly
tempted to go back,' he said.[565]

Froment went to the landlord, paid his bill, strapped his little bundle
on his shoulders, and, without taking leave of the huguenots, bent his
steps towards the Swiss gate, and quitted the city. But he had not gone
many yards before he stopped; he felt as if he were detained by an
invisible hand; a voice was heard in his conscience, telling him he was
doing wrong; a force greater than that of man compelled him to retrace
his steps. He returned to his room, shut the door, and sat down; leaning
on the table with his head in his hands, he asked what God wanted with
him.[566] He began to pray, and seemed to witness in himself the
realisation of the promise: _I will lead thee in the way in which thou
shouldst walk_. He called to mind what Farel had told him, and what the
reformer had done at Aigle. A flash of light illumined his soul. They
will have nothing to do with him in Geneva, because his appearance is
mean. Be it so; he will undertake with humility the work that God gives
him; and since he is rejected as an evangelist, he will turn
schoolmaster.

[Sidenote: FROMENT ADVERTISES HIS SCHOOL.]

During his walks Froment had met with one Le Patu, a man but little
known, whom he asked if he could procure for him a place for a school.
Le Patu answered that there was the great hall at Boytet's, at the Croix
d'Or, near the Molard.[567] They went there together; Froment measured
its dimensions with his eye, and hired the room. He breathed again; he
had now one foot in the stirrup; it only remained to get into the
saddle, and begin his course. It was necessary to find scholars; with
God's help Froment despaired of nothing. Returning to the inn, he drew
up a prospectus, made several copies in his best handwriting, went out
with them, and posted them in all the public places. They ran as
follows: 'A man has just arrived in this city who engages to teach
reading and writing in French, in one month, to all who will come to
him, young and old, men and women, even such as have never been to
school; and if they cannot read and write within the said month, he asks
nothing for his trouble. He will be found at Boytet's large room, near
the Molard, at the sign of the Croix d'Or. Many diseases are also cured
gratis.'

These papers having been posted about the city, many of the passers-by
stopped to read them. 'We have heard him speak,' said some with whom he
had conversed; 'he talks well.' Others thought that the promise to teach
reading and writing in a month was suspicious; to which more benevolent
men replied, that in any case he did not aim at their purses. But the
priests and devout were irritated. 'He is a devil,' said a priest in the
crowd; 'he enchants all who go near him. You have hardly heard him
before his magical words bewilder you.'[568]

The school opened, however, and he did not want for young pupils.
Froment, who had talent (his book of the _Actes et Gestes de Genève_
proves this), taught with simplicity and clearness. Before dismissing
his scholars he would open the New Testament and read a few verses,
explaining them in an interesting manner; after which (as he had some
knowledge of medicine) he would ask them whether any in their families
were sick, and distribute harmless remedies among them. It was by the
instruction of the mind and the healing of the body that the evangelist
paved the way to the conversion of the heart. The school and medicine
are great missionary auxiliaries. The children ran home and told their
parents all; the mothers stopped in their work to listen to them, and
the fathers, especially the huguenots, made them tell it again. Some of
the boys and girls were continually prattling about it; they even
'accosted men and women in the streets, inviting them to come and hear
_that man_.'[569] In a short time the city was full of the schoolmaster
who spoke French so well.

[Sidenote: FROMENT'S SUCCESS.]

Several adults resolved to hear him, either from a desire to learn, or
from curiosity, or in sport. Wives, however, stopped their husbands;
jesters played off their jokes, and priests uttered their anathemas. But
nothing could stop the current, for people thought the schoolmaster
would speak against the lives of the priests, the mass, and Lent....
These worthy huguenots, as they passed through the streets, heard
'numerous loud jests and whispered hints' around them.[570] They took
their places behind the children and listened. Froment began: 'He speaks
well,' said his hearers. He did even more than he had promised; he
taught arithmetic, which was very acceptable to the Genevese, who are by
nature rather calculating. It was the sermon, however, which the hearers
waited for, and that was very different from what they had expected—a
homily instead of a philippic. In the course of his lessons Froment read
at one time a story from the Bible, at another one of our Lord's
sermons, giving the Scripture as the Scriptures of God, explaining as he
went on the difficult words, and then applying the doctrine
affectionately to the consciences of his hearers. They were all ears;
leaning forward and with half-opened mouth, each one seemed afraid of
losing a word. A few boys turned glances of triumph on those whom they
had brought there. Froment joyfully marked the effect produced by his
teaching. 'They were much astonished, for they had never heard such
doctrine.'[571] Some began to understand that evangelical Christianity
did not consist in mocking the priests and the mass, but in knowing and
loving the Saviour. 'Those who heard him conceived in their hearts some
understanding of the truth.'[572]

In a short time the success of this simple instruction surpassed the
hopes of the teacher. Those who had heard him talked of the beautiful
discourses delivered at the Croix d'Or. 'Come,' said they, 'for he
preaches very differently from the priests, and asks nothing for his
trouble.'—'Good,' said some citizens more ignorant than the rest; 'we
will go and hear him; we will learn to read and write, and hear what he
says.'[573] Men, women, and children hastened to the hall, striving
which should be there first.[574] The poor man whom the Genevans had
repulsed had suddenly grown in their estimation. The disputes between
huguenots and mamelukes, the claims of the Duke of Savoy and Bishop De
la Baume were forgotten; nothing was thought of but the evangelist. At
the epoch of the Reformation nothing was more striking than the great
difference between the instruction given by the priests and that given
by the reformers. 'Their teaching,' it was said, 'is not such a cold,
meagre, lifeless thing as that of popery. True, our masters sing loud
enough, and preach whatever pleases their patrons, but they chirp out
divine things in a profane manner; their discourses have no reverence
for God, and are full of fine words and affectation.... In the others,
on the contrary, instead of mere words and idle talk, there is virtue
and efficaciousness, a life-giving spirit and divine power.'[575]

[Sidenote: THE BEWITCHED.]

The friends of the priests could not hear such remarks without feeling
the deepest alarm. 'Pshaw!' they said, 'you speak as if the man had
enchanted you. By what sounds, figures, or magical operations has he
bewitched you? Or is it else by fine words, great promises, or other
means of seduction ... by money?' From that time if they saw in the
street a man or woman who attended the meetings at the Croix d'Or, they
would cry out: 'Ho! ho! there goes one of the possessed!'[576]
Complaints were made and bitter reproaches: signs of disapprobation were
heard; but 'notwithstanding all this contrary movement the number of
hearers increased daily. Many of those whom curiosity had attracted were
interested, enlightened, and touched, and returning home they praised
and glorified God.'[577]

All were not, however, won over to the Gospel. Certain huguenot leaders,
Ami Perrin, John Goulaz, Stephen d'Adda, and others, took no great
pleasure in the preacher's sermons; but believing that this new
doctrine, which fell from the skies, would overthrow the dominion of the
priests and mamelukes, they did not hesitate to range themselves among
Froment's hearers, and to support him energetically in the city.[578]
Ere long matters went still worse for Rome. Some of Froment's hearers
invited certain priests who were liberally inclined, to come and hear
the schoolmaster. The idea of sitting on the benches at the Croix d'Or
alarmed these churchmen, the huguenots repeated the Frenchman's words:
'Truly,' said the priests, 'these doctrines are good, and we should do
well to receive them.'—'Ho! ho!' said certain of the citizens, 'the
clerks who made such a brag are now converted themselves.'

The alarm increased. The most bigoted monks and priests entered private
houses, addressed the groups assembled in the public places, and jeered
at Froment's doctrine and person. 'Will you go and hear that devil?'
they said; 'what can that little fool (_folaton_) know who is hardly
twenty-two?'—'That fool,' answered Froment's admirers, 'will teach you
to be wise.... That devil will cast out the devil that is in you.'[579]

[Sidenote: CLAUDINE LEVET.]

In truth an astonishing work was going on in Geneva at this time; many
souls were gained to the evangelical faith, and as in the times of the
apostles, it was the women of distinction who believed first,[580]
Paula, the wife of John Levet, and probably the same as Pernetta of
Bourdigny, was daughter of the lord of Bourdigny, in the _mandement_ of
Peney. The members of this house had been styled nobles or _damoiseaux_
as far back as the thirteenth century, and many of them had been syndics
of Geneva.[581] This lady, prepared by the teachings of the evangelists
who had preceded Froment, 'had become very zealous for the Word,' and
earnestly desired to bring to the Gospel her sister-in-law Claudine,
wife of a worthy citizen, Aimé Levet. The latter, 'an honest, devoted,
and wondrously superstitious woman,' was upright and sincere, and more
than once had combatted zealously her sister's opinions. One day when
Paula was at Claudine's house, she conjured her to come and hear the
schoolmaster. 'I have so great a horror of him,' replied her
sister-in-law, 'that for fear of being bewitched, I will neither see nor
hear him.'—'He speaks like an angel,' answered Paula. 'I look upon him
as a devil,' retorted Claudine. 'If you hear him, you will be
saved.'—'And I think I shall be damned.' Thus contended these two women.
Paula was not discouraged. 'At least hear him once,' she said, and then
added with emotion: 'Pray hear him once for love of me!' She prevailed
at last, though with great difficulty.

Dame Claudine, although yielding to her sister's entreaties, resolved to
protect herself thoroughly. She armed herself carefully with all the
antidotes provided in such cases; she fastened fresh-gathered rosemary
leaves to her temples, rubbed her bosom with virgin wax,[582] hung
relics, crosses, and rosaries round her neck, and shielded by these
amulets, she accompanied Paula to the Croix d'Or. 'I am going to see an
enchanter,' she said, so deceived[583] was she. She promised herself to
lead back the Demoiselle de Bourdigny into the fold.

Claudine entered the hall and sat down in front of the magician in
mockery and derision, says the chronicle. Froment appeared, having a
book in his hand. He mounted on a round table, as was his custom, in
order to be better heard, and opening the New Testament, read a few
words, and then began to apply them. Claudine, without caring the least
for the assembly, and wishing to make her catholicism known, crossed
herself several times on the breast, at the same time repeating certain
prayers. Froment continued his discourse and unfolded the treasures of
the Gospel. Claudine raised her eyes at last, astonished at what she
heard, and looked at the minister. She listened, and ere long there was
not a more attentive hearer in all the congregation. Froment's voice
alone would have been 'wasted,' but it entered into the woman's
understanding, as if borne by the Spirit of God. She drank in the
reformer's words; and yet a keen struggle was going on within her. Can
this doctrine be true, seeing that the church says nothing about it? she
asked herself. Her eyes often fell on the schoolmaster's book. It was
not a missal or a breviary.... It seemed to her full of life.

[Sidenote: CLAUDINE ALONE WITH THE BIBLE.]

Froment having completed his sermon, the children and adults rose and
prepared to go out. Claudine remained in her place: she looked at the
teacher, and at last exclaimed aloud: 'Is it true what you say?'—'Yes,'
answered the reformer. 'Is it all proved by the Gospel?'—'Yes.'—'Is not
the mass mentioned in it?'—'No!'—'And is the book from which you
preached a genuine New Testament?'—'Yes.' Madame Levet eagerly desired
to have it: taking courage, she said: 'Then lend it me.' Froment gave it
to her, and Claudine placing it carefully under her cloak, among her
relics and beads, went out with her sister-in-law, who was beginning to
see all her wishes accomplished. As Claudine returned home she did not
talk much with Paula: hers was one of those deep natures that speak
little with man but much with God. Entering her house, she went straight
to her room and shut herself in, taking nothing but the book with her,
and being determined not to come out again until she had found the
solution of the grand problem with which her conscience was occupied. On
which side is truth? At Rome or at Wittemberg? Having made arrangements
that they should not wait meals for her, or knock at her door, 'she
remained apart,' says Froment, 'for three days and three nights without
eating or drinking, but with prayers, fasting, and supplication.' The
book lay open on the table before her. She read it constantly, and
falling on her knees, asked for the divine light to be shed abroad in
her heart. Claudine probably did not possess an understanding of the
highest range, but she had a tender conscience. With her the first duty
was to submit to God, the first want to resemble Him, the first desire
to find everlasting happiness in Him. She did not reach Christ through
the understanding; conscience was the path that led her to Him. An
awakening conscience is the first symptom of conversion and consequently
of reformation. Sometimes Claudine heard in her heart a voice pressing
her to come to Jesus; then her superstitious ideas would suddenly
return, and she rejected the Lord's invitation. But she soon discovered
that the practices to which she had abandoned herself were dried-up
wells where there had never been any water. Determined to go astray no
longer, she desired to go straight to Christ. It was then she redoubled
those 'prayers and supplications' of which Froment speaks, and read the
Holy Scriptures with eagerness. At last she understood that divine Word
which spake: 'Daughter, thy sins are forgiven thee.' Oh, wonderful, she
is saved! This salvation did not puff her up: she discovered that 'the
grace of God trickled slowly into her;' but the least drop coming from
the Holy Spirit seemed a well that never dried. Three days were thus
spent: for the same space of time Paul remained in prayer at
Damascus.[584]

[Sidenote: HER CONVERSION.]

Madame Levet having read the Gospel again and again desired to see the
man who had first led her to know it. She sent for him. Froment crossed
the Rhone, for she lived at the foot of the bridge, on the side of St.
Gervais. He entered, and when she saw him Claudine rose in emotion,
approached him, and being unable to speak burst into tears. 'Her tears,'
says the evangelist, 'fell on the floor,' she had no other language.
When she recovered, Madame Levet courteously begged Froment to sit down,
and told him how God had opened to her the door of heaven. At the same
time she showed herself determined to profess without fear before men
the faith that caused her happiness. 'Ah!' she said, 'can I ever thank
God sufficiently for having enlightened me?' Froment had come to
strengthen this lady and he was himself strengthened. He was in great
admiration at 'hearing her speak as she did.'[585] A conversion so
spiritual and so serious must needs have a great signification for the
Reformation of Geneva, and as Calvin says in other circumstances where
also only one woman seems to have been converted: 'From this tiny shoot
an excellent church was to spring.'[586]

[561] 'Obscuritatem nominis præsidio futuram, Deum itineri ducem et
cœpto patronum.'—Spanheim, _Geneva restituta_, p. 47.

[562] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 12.

[563] Badollet MS. in Berne library, _Hist. Helv._

[564] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 13.

[565] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 13.

[566] 'Cum jam pedem ex urbe efferret, nescio qua vi humana majore, se
vel reluctantem revocari sensit.'—Spanheim, _Geneva rest._ p. 47;
Froment, _Gestes_, p. 13.

[567] The sign of the Golden Cross is still on the house, but it was not
an inn, as some assert.

[568] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 14.

[569] Ibid.

[570] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 14.

[571] Ibid.

[572] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 14.

[573] 'Nous verrons ce que c'est qu'il dit.'—Froment, _Gestes_,
p. 14.

[574] 'A viris et fœminis certatim ad Fromentium itum.'—Spanheim,
_Geneva restit._ p. 48.

[575] Calvin, _passim_.

[576] Badollet MS. in Berne library, _Hist. Helv._

[577] Froment, _Gestes_, pp. 14-15.

[578] Council Registers, 31 Dec. 1532.

[579] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 13.

[580] 'And some of them consorted with Paul and Silas, and of the chief
women not a few.'—Acts xvii. 4.

[581] Galiffe, _Notices Généalogiques_, I. p. 446.

[582] 'Recente verbena tempora vincta, cera virginea pectus
munita.'—Spanheim, _Geneva restit._ p. 50.

[583] 'Embabuynée,' Froment, _Gestes_, p. 16.

[584] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 16; Gautier MS.

[585] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 16.

[586] Calvin on Lydia, Acts xvi. 14.




 CHAPTER XI.
 FORMATION OF THE CHURCH. FRIENDS AND OPPONENTS.
 (MIDDLE TO THE END OF DEC. 1532.)


While the Gospel was thus manifesting its power in Geneva, the bishop
persisted in his inflexible hostility. The Genevan magistrates still
felt great regard for him. On the 13th December 1532 the council sent a
deputation to him to obtain his consent to a tax which was deemed to be
necessary: the Sieur de Chapeaurouge, the ex-captain-general Philippe,
and others appeared respectfully before him. Love of order and the
obedience due to established authority were characteristics of the
Genevese statesmen, and vexed as they were at the abuses which had their
source in the power of the bishop, they could not take upon themselves
to do anything without his consent. The bishop, flattered with these
attentions, made the deputation very welcome for a couple of days, but
on the third all his bad humour returned. When the ambassadors appeared
before him again he said hastily: 'I will grant you nothing, not a
single crown, and I will compel my lords of Geneva to ask my pardon on
their bended knees.' On the 26th December the deputation reported this
language to the council, who were annoyed at it; and while the bishop
was sending these messages to Geneva which did not advance the cause of
popery, the Reformation, on the contrary, was endeavouring in every way
to enlighten men's minds and win their hearts.[587]

[Sidenote: PROGRESS OF THE GOSPEL.]

Froment being in communication with Farel and the reformed of
Switzerland, received from them Testaments, tracts, and controversial
works, which his friends and he distributed all over the city, where
they were read with eagerness. Every day more persons were won over to
the evangelical faith. They were of all conditions of life. A certain
tradesman, named Guérin, a cap-maker, listened while working in his shop
to all that was said around him, and thought seriously of religion and
of the abuses of popery. One day he determined to visit the Croix d'Or,
and the words he heard there touched his heart and enlightened his mind.
Being sensible, intelligent, modest, and of decided character, he gave
himself up with all his heart to God's cause, and ere long became
Froment's helper. There were also persons of all ages among the
converts. Claude Bernard had a daughter between seven and eight years
old whom he early introduced to the knowledge of scripture. The child's
precocious understanding was struck with certain simple and clear
passages which condemned the popular superstitions; and the little
controversialist (we are told) confounded the ignorant priests. Unable
to answer her they spread a report that she was possessed of the devil.
A Frenchman of distinction, passing through Geneva, wished to see her,
and was charmed with her infantile graces and piety.

It was soon apparent that there was something more than a new doctrine:
a moral reformation accompanied the revival of faith. In the days of her
bigoted Catholicism Claudine Levet had been very fond of dress; her
conscience now reproached her with having been unreasonable in her love
of costly attire, and more eager to ornament her body than to adorn her
soul. One day she shut herself up in that room where she had heard the
call of God, stripped off (says Froment) 'all superfluous bravery
(_braveté_), laid aside those ornaments and trappings which had only
served to show her off in a vainglorious way, as a peacock spreads his
tail,' and from that time she wore a plain and becoming dress. Having
sold her beautiful robes and other belongings, she gave the money to the
poor, particularly to the evangelicals of France, who having been
banished from their homes on account of truth had come to Geneva. All
her life she loved to receive refugees in her house. 'Verily,' they said
of her, 'verily, she follows the example of Tabitha who was called
Dorcas (Acts ix.), and deserves to be kept in perpetual remembrance.'

Claudine did more than this: she spoke frankly and meekly of the
precious truth she had received, and 'scattered it wherever she happened
to be in the city.' The priests alarmed at such an astonishing
transformation endeavoured to bring her back to the practices of the
church; but Claudine 'showed them tenderly by scripture what was
necessary' (namely, faith and charity). All in the city were surprised
to hear her talk as she did.[588]

[Sidenote: GENEVESE LADIES.]

The news of her conversion made a great sensation, particularly among
the Genevese ladies. One day, when the most worldly of them had met
together, they talked of nothing but Madame Levet and her estrangement
from the mass and from amusements. They were Pernette Balthasarde, wife
of a councillor; the wife of Baudichon de la Maison neuve; the wife of
Claude Pastor, Jeanne Marie de Fernex, and many other rich and
honourable ladies.[589] 'Alas!' they said, 'how is it that she has
changed in so short a time?' They had loved her, and all the more
regretted that she was _lost_.... They vented their anger on Froment.
'She has heard that creature,' they said, 'and been bewitched by him.'
These ladies resolved that they would see her no more.[590]

Claudine did not despair of her friends. She continued to live for God,
and all might see that a holy life, full of good works, proceeded from
her faith. The Genevan ladies, although unwilling to visit her, watched
her; and observing 'that she persevered in well-doing, and was still a
constant pattern of holy living,' they drew near her. They were curious
to know the cause of this singular change, and began to speak to her
when they met her, some even going to see her. Claudine received them
affectionately, spoke to them about that which filled her heart—this was
what her friends desired—presented them with the New Testament, and
begged them to read it and to love the Saviour. Several of these ladies
were converted, especially those whom we have named. Claudine, who was
their 'exemplar of life and charity,' pressed them to adopt a Christian
conduct. 'Put aside your great display,' she said to them, 'attire
yourselves simply and without superfluity, and give your minds to great
charities. Faith holds the first place, but after that come good works.'
From that time indeed these women showed great compassion for the
wretched. The fame of their good deeds spread abroad, and the Gospel was
honoured by them. It seemed admitted that no one could be a Christian
_unless he had some poor persecuted foreigner in his house_.[591] Such
was the Christianity of Geneva at the moment when it was beginning to
appear, and such it remained for two centuries.

Aimé Levet, who was at first strongly opposed to Froment and the Gospel,
gradually softened down. The holiness and charity of his wife made him
appreciate the Word of God: 'thus Claudine won her husband to the
Lord.'[592] From that time she had more liberty, and the meetings at the
Croix d'Or being insufficient, little assemblies were held at her house
or at others. When there was no evangelist present capable of explaining
the Bible, they begged this pious christian woman to do it, saying: 'No
one has received from the Lord greater gifts than you.' Claudine would
then read the scripture, and set forth with simplicity the truths and
graces she had found therein. The reformers remembered the precept of
St. Paul, _Let your women keep silence in the churches_; but they added,
'This must be understood of the ordinary charge, for a case may happen
when it will be necessary for a woman to speak in public.'[593] Ere long
the modest Guérin, who studied his Bible day and night, and other
Christians likewise, took an active part in the work of evangelisation.

[Sidenote: CHURCH IN TRANSITION.]

The church was forming. At first there were a few souls awakened
separately here and there in Geneva; now with the element of
individuality, which is the first, was combined the element of
communion, which is not less necessary, for Christianity is a leaven
that _leaveneth the whole lump_. Those who had begun to believe
assembled to advance together in faith. Doubtless it was not yet a
church in its complete state, with all its institutions. Believers, even
without forming a church, may act upon one another, pray in common, and
celebrate the Lord's Supper together; things ordinarily begin in this
way. This state of transition, the lawfulness of which must be
acknowledged, proves that the ecclesiastical organisation, with its
ministers, elders, deacons, presbyteries, and synods, has not the first
place in Christianity, and that the pre-eminence belongs to faith and
christian sanctification. This imperfect mode of existence is
insufficient: it has many deficiencies, and is exposed to many dangers.
The church should be formed. Somewhat later, under Calvin, it attained
indeed its complete form in Geneva. It would be foolish to deny man the
right of being at first a child; but it would be no less so to refuse
him the right and duty of becoming a man.

Just at this time the evangelicals received an unexpected help. A
Franciscan coming from abroad began to preach the Advent sermons in the
Rive church, and this monk, Christopher Bocquet by name, happened to
have some inclination for the Gospel. Being invited to preach in a city
where two parties were at war, he abstained from both superstitions and
abuse—frequent themes with many catholic preachers—but at the same time
he abstained from certain distinctive doctrines of the Reformation which
he did not quite understand, and keeping to a certain common ground of
Christianity, he delivered 'moderate' sermons.[594] Dressed in his brown
frock, and with the cord round his waist, and humbly bending his head,
he entered the Cordeliers' church, went up into the pulpit, and
contemplating the mixed crowd before him, proclaimed to all a Saviour
who had come not in magnificent array, but in gracious love, and called
upon every heart to rejoice at his sight. The evangelicals were edified,
and the number of persons frequenting the church increased every day.
But Friar Christopher 'had hardly finished his sermon,' when the
huguenots hurried away to Froment's meeting-place, where _the trumpet
gave no uncertain sound_. They were not the only persons who went
thither. Many catholics having heard the reformers say that the monk and
the schoolmaster preached fundamentally the same things, followed the
crowd going to the Croix d'Or, and some of them took a liking for what
they heard.

Thus the people were more and more enlightened. The evangelicals met
sometimes at one house, sometimes at another; they read and discussed
the little tracts that were sent them, but above all applied themselves
to Holy Scripture. It was there only that these simple Christians were
willing to seek the light which their consciences needed. 'Let us
specially study the sacred writings,' they said, 'in order that we may
distinguish in religion what comes from God, from that which men have
added to it.'[595] The Genevans retired from these meetings strengthened
and full of joy, and their love for the Word of God continued to
increase.

If the Reformation met with faithful adherents in Geneva, it also
encountered resolute adversaries. The astonished and bewildered priests
seemed to sleep. Contenting themselves with a war of trifles, they made
no active and combined opposition to the evangelical movement. It was
the laity who uttered the cry of alarm. Angry at the inactivity of the
clergy, they gave the signal of a 'holy war' destined in their opinion
to expel the infidels from their well-beloved Zion. Thomas Moine[596]
was at their head—a decided, impetuous man, a fluent speaker, and one
who had attained great consideration in the Romish party; he complained
that they had permitted the enemy to establish himself little by little
in the ancient episcopal city. He said that it was time to wake up, and
reproached the Genevese ecclesiastics for their cowardice. Moine did not
speak in vain.

[Sidenote: SERMON AT THE MADELEINE.]

The vicar of La Madeleine touched by his words, determined to exalt the
honour of his church and corporation, and gave notice that he would
preach against the heretical schoolmaster and the foreign preacher. The
large area was soon filled with fervent catholics, among whom were some
of the reformed, in particular Chautemps, Claude Bernard, Salomon, and
Perrin. The vicar praised the catholic apostolic Roman Church, extolled
its head, who was (he said) the representative of God, and defended its
worship and institutions. Then having praised the fold, he described the
'wolves' that prowled around it to devour the sheep. He accused Froment
of ignorance and falsehood, and conjured his hearers not to throw
themselves into the paws of wild beasts, thieves, and robbers....

On leaving the church the four huguenots who had heard him met to
inquire what was to be done. These men who at the first moment had, like
the others, given so bad a reception to the schoolmaster, had been
touched (three of them at least) by the simple preaching of the Gospel.
The Bible, as we have seen, had become their court of appeal, which
grieved the priests, who dared not deny the divinity of the book, but as
they had never studied it, were much embarrassed to find the proof of
their dogmas in it. After some deliberation Chautemps and his friends
waited upon the vicar. 'Froment,' they said, 'is a good and learned man;
you say that he has lied; prove it by Scripture?' The vicar having
consented, the huguenots demanded that the discussion should take place
in public, so that all might profit by it; but the priest desired it to
be held at the parsonage. The champions of the Reformation gave way, and
arrangements were made for the disputation to take place on the last day
of the year. The poor priest (Claude Pelliez by name) was greatly
embarrassed: he retired to his room, took up the Vulgate, which he did
not often open, and began to look for passages to oppose to the reformed
doctrines; but he searched in vain, he could find none.

[Sidenote: A CONTROVERSY.]

In the afternoon of the 31st December, St. Sylvester's day, Chautemps,
Bernard, Perrin, and Salomon went to the parsonage of the Madeleine,
wearing their swords as was customary. Some priests whom the curate had
invited were already there, but they had to wait for the champion of
Romanism who had not yet been able to find a single text. The four
huguenots took off their belts, threw their swords on the bed, and
sitting round the table with the priests, began to talk familiarly
together. At last the vicar, who had had some trouble to tear himself
away from his folios, in which he still hoped to find something,
appeared with a bulky volume under his arm. The huguenots rose as he
entered; beneath the table at which they were sitting stood some
wine-bottles which they and the priests had emptied while waiting for
him, and which Perrin had paid for. The conference now began. The vicar
opened his big volume, in which some strips of paper indicated the
places he thought favourable to him, and read a long extract opposed to
Froment's doctrine. 'What book is that,' asked Perrin; 'it is not a
Bible.' The huguenots added, 'You have not been able to find in the
Bible one word with which to answer Froment;' and laughed at him. 'What
is that you say,' retorted the priest, reddening with anger; 'it is the
_Postillæ perpetuæ in Biblia_ of the illustrious Nicholas Lyra!'—'But
you promised to refute Froment out of Scripture,'—Lyra,' said the
priest, 'is the most approved interpreter.' The huguenots were
determined not to accept the commentaries of man as if they were the
very Word of God. The Bible incorruptible and infallible, before which
all human systems must fall, was the only authority. 'Lyra is not a good
doctor,' said Perrin.—'Yes!'—'No!'—'Yes!'—'You do not keep your word.'
Perrin had understanding rather than real piety: he was a lamp, but it
had no oil. Haughty, violent, and headstrong, he wanted everything to
bend before him, and so did the vicar. The quarrel grew hot, and instead
of discussing they abused each other. Then one of the churchmen having
left the room stealthily, a band of priests suddenly entered with one De
la Roche at their head, who carried a naked sword which he pointed in
front of him. 'What!' said Claude Bernard, 'we came in good faith, we
four only, to your house to discuss; we have drunk with your friends, we
have thrown our swords on the bed ... and you traitorously send for an
armed band of priests. It is a trap.' With these words the four citizens
grasped their swords, made a way through their opponents, got out into
the street, and held their ground, ready to defend themselves. One of
the priests ran to the belfry of the Madeleine and began to ring the
tocsin.[597] Thus ended the first theological dispute at Geneva.

[Sidenote: TUMULT AT THE MADELEINE.]

It was about noon—a time favourable for a riot. On hearing the church
bell the city was thrown into commotion, and everybody hurried to the
spot. It was said that the huguenots desired to get possession of the
building so that the schoolmaster might preach in it. Priests came
forward with their adherents to defend the sanctuary; huguenots took up
arms to protect their brethren hemmed in in front of the church. 'Alas!'
said the friends of peace, 'the priests are ringing the tocsin, and thus
exciting the citizens to kill one another.' The four huguenots, with
drawn swords and their backs to the wall, prepared to give the churchmen
a warm reception; while their friends, as they arrived, drew up by their
side. The tumult was general. 'Let us close in to the church,' said the
priests, who wished to surround it to prevent the evangelicals from
entering. Huguenots and catholics hastened from every quarter to the
Madeleine. Terror seized the most timid. The poor ladies of St. Claire,
who were at dinner, hearing the noise, rose from the table in alarm, and
exclaiming, 'Alas! they have threatened to marry us ... they are going
to put their abominable plot into execution,' made a procession round
their church and garden with great devotion and many tears.[598]

Just at this time the council broke up, and two of the syndics, Ramel
and Savoie, who were going home, had to pass through the midst of the
riot. The two parties were on the point of coming to blows. The syndics
advanced, checked the combatants by interposing their official staves,
and ordered them to lay down their arms, which was done. 'There was
neither violence nor bloodshed.'[599]

But all was not ended. Some members of the chapter and several priests,
hearing that a fight was going on at the Madeleine, had collected in the
Rue des Chanoines, where William Canal, incumbent of St. Germain's,
harangued them. The catholic faith is threatened, the throne of the pope
is shaken, the great honour due to Mary is endangered.... We must fall
upon those who impugn it, and free the city from their persons and their
errors. Such was the sum of his discourse.

The tumult being quieted round the church,[600] the lieutenant of
justice (Châteauneuf) had turned towards the Rue des Chanoines, where he
had been told that the priests were in commotion. Finding them
determined to follow Canal sword in hand to the Madeleine, he commanded
them to stop. The priest of St. Germain's, unwilling to submit to the
orders of a civil magistrate, rushed hastily towards the church.
Châteauneuf laid his hand upon him, when the rebellious parson turned
round and levelled his arquebuse at that officer; but a friendly arm
prevented his firing. Canal ran off, and the other priests
dispersed.[601]

[Sidenote: FROMENT DESIRED NOT TO PREACH.]

The council reassembled in the evening. Each opinion was represented in
that body, which halted between two opinions. After a riot like that
which had just occurred, it was necessary to take certain precautions,
especially as the morrow was New Year's day, and at such times men's
minds are more easily excited. The council summoned the principal
friends of the reform, and Froment also was invited, although the
Registers make no mention of his presence. 'We exhort you,' said the
syndics, 'to make Anthony Froment cease from disputing and preaching, as
well as the others who teach in private houses; and we conjure you to
live as your fathers did.' No one would make any promise; on the
contrary, the reformed withdrew, saying, 'We will hear the Word of God
wherever we can: nobody has a right to hide it.' Then turning to
Froment, they begged him not to be silent under such prohibition.[602]
'We are constrained,' they said, 'to hear the schoolmaster and his
friends, because the decree of the council ordering the Word of God to
be preached in every parish has not been observed.' The reformed, while
desiring before all things to obey God, put themselves in the right:
they appealed to lawful ordinances, and this was the ground which they
intended keeping.

The council, acknowledging that this position of the evangelicals was
impregnable, sent for the Abbot of Bonmont, the vicar-episcopal, and
begged him to detain at Geneva the cordelier who had preached the Advent
so well, and to press the Dominicans also to provide a preacher
calculated to edify their congregation. They required further that there
should be true preachers of the Word of God in every parish. The
vicar-episcopal, being a peaceful man, promised everything, even to
punishing Canal the priest.

The tumult was appeased, but great agitation still reigned in men's
minds. Some saw that the storm was over, others that it might easily
break out again. As it was St. Sylvester's eve, there were numerous
meetings throughout the city, catholics and huguenots being equally
excited, and both waiting anxiously for the morrow.[603]

[587] Council Registers, 13 and 26 Dec.; Gautier MS.

[588] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 18.

[589] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 18.

[590] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 17.

[591] Froment, _Gestes_, pp. 16-18; Roset, _Chron._ liv. x. ch. ii.

[592] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 17.

[593] Calvin, 1 Cor. xiv. 34.

[594] 'Moderatas ad populum conciones habebat.'—Spanheim, _Geneva
restit._ p. 48.

[595] MS. erroneously ascribed to Bouivard in Berne library, _Hist.
Helv._ V. 12.

[596] He signed his name _Mohennos_, which was pronounced _Moine_—the
spelling of the public registers.

[597] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 49.

[598] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 49.

[599] Council Registers, _ad diem_.

[600] 'Ab invasione per eos cœpta.'—Council Registers of 31 Dec. 1532.

[601] Roset, _Chron._ liv. ii. ch. iv.

[602] Berne MS. ascribed to Bonivard.

[603] Council Registers. Roset, _Chron._ liv. ii. ch. iv.




 CHAPTER XII.
 THE SERMON AT THE MOLARD.
 (NEW YEAR'S DAY, 1533.)


For nearly twenty years liberty had been clearing the ground on which
the Gospel was to raise its temple. For nearly eight years a few pious
voices had spoken of the doctrine of salvation in private conversations
and meetings; but the Reformation had not yet been preached in the face
of the people. The hour that was to make it a public and notorious thing
was about to strike; the world was about to witness the birth of the
principles of that moral power which for two centuries, whatever may
have been the meanness of its origin, has influenced the destinies of
christendom; which, fanning the flame, that is to say, inspiring the
friends of the Reformation with heavenly courage, has waged heroic
battles against the Jesuits and the inquisition, and preserved the
Gospel and liberty from dangerous assaults. Geneva was about to hear the
voice of a protestant.

[Sidenote: A NEW YEAR.]

The last night of the year 1532 had passed away, and first of 1533 was
beginning. In every house relations and friends were greeting the new
year, which the reformed hoped would be better than all that had gone
before. The family congratulations being over, they went to church.
Bocquet was again preaching at the Gray Friar's monastery, where many
evangelicals attended; but the monk had hardly finished, when numbers of
his hearers quitted the chapel and hurried eagerly along the Rue de Rive
to the Croix d'Or. There were many curious persons among them, who,
knowing that the council had prohibited Froment's preaching, were all
the more desirous of hearing him. In a moment the hall was filled, then
the stairs and passage ... and at last the street in front of the house.
Froment arrived with a few friends, and seeing the crowd, observed: 'The
streets are so full, that it is quite a crush.' He tried however to make
his way through the mass, and his friends assisted him; but do what he
would, all his exertions were ineffectual.

Was all this unforeseen, or was it premeditated by some of the
huguenots? Were these energetic men determined at last to bring the
evangelist from his narrow schoolroom and force him to preach in public?
Is there not some truth in Sister Jeanne's statement that, on the
evening before, they had desired to make him preach in the large area of
the Madeleine? And may we not believe, that as they did not succeed
then, they now desired to compensate themselves by taking a still larger
space and making the reformer preach in the open air? These suppositions
appear probable, but there is no decided evidence in their favour. At
all events, the crowd recognized Froment, and saw that he could not
reach the usual place of his ministrations. Those who were in the street
perceived that if the evangelist succeeded in entering the Croix d'Or,
they would be left outside, which was not agreeable to them. One man
shouted out: 'To the Molard,' and in a short time the cry became
general: 'To the Molard, to the Molard.'[604]

[Sidenote: FROMENT AT THE MOLARD.]

The Molard was situated in the most populous quarter of the city, near
the lake and the Rhone. It was a large square, about 200 yards from the
Croix d'Or. Froment hesitated, but the crowd, getting into motion,
carried him along with them towards the south-west corner of the square,
where the fish market is still held. The fishwomen were there with their
fresh wares displayed on their stalls. The huguenots, finding no other
pulpit, took one of these stalls, and invited Froment to get on it. He
was determined, like his master Farel, to preach the truth in every
place.

As soon as his head appeared above the others, the multitude that filled
the square manifested their delight, and those around him shouted louder
than ever: 'Preach to us, preach the Word of God to us.' Froment, who
was moved, answered with a loud voice: 'It is also the word that shall
endure for ever.' The tumult was so great that the preacher could not
make himself heard: 'He made a sign to them with his hand to keep
silence, and they were still.'[605] 'Pray to God with me,' he said, and
then getting off the stall, he knelt upon the ground. He was agitated:
the tears flowed down his cheeks;[606] a deep silence prevailed in that
square which was so often in those days the scene of tumultuous
movements. Some knelt, others remained standing; all heads were
uncovered, and even those who were strangers to the Gospel, appeared
thoughtful. Froment joined his hands, lifted his eyes to heaven, and
speaking so distinctly that all could hear him, he said:[607]

[Sidenote: PRAYER AT THE MOLARD.]

'Eternal God, father of all mercies, thou hast promised thy children to
give them whatsoever they shall ask in faith, and wilt refuse them
nothing that is reasonable and just; and hast always heard the prayers
of thy servants, who are oppressed in divers manners. Thou knowest now
what is the need of this people better than they or I do.... This need
is principally to hear thy Word. It is true we have been ungrateful in
not acknowledging thee as our only Father, and thine own son Jesus
Christ, whom thou hast sent to die for us, in order to be our only
Saviour and intercessor. But, Lord, thou hast promised us that
whensoever the poor sinner draws near thee, by reason of thy Son, born
of the Virgin Mary, thou wilt hear him. We know and even are assured
that thou desirest not the death and destruction of sinners, but that
they should be converted and live.... Thou desirest that they should not
remain under the great tyranny of Antichrist, and under the hand of the
devil and his servants, who are continually fighting against thy holy
Word and destroying thy work.... Our Father! look down upon thy poor
blind people, led by the blind, so that they both fall into the ditch,
and can only be lifted out by thy mercy.... Lift them out by thy Holy
Spirit, open their eyes, their ears, their understandings, their hearts,
in order that, confessing their sins, they may look to the goodness of
thy Son whom thou hast given to die for them. And since it hath pleased
thee, Lord, to send me to them, give both them and me the infinite grace
that by thy Holy Spirit they may receive what thou shalt put into the
mouth of thy servant, who is unworthy to be the bearer of so great a
message. But as it hath pleased thee to choose me from among the weak
things of the world, give me strength and wisdom so that thy power may
be manifested ... not only in this city but in all the world. How can
thy servant stand in the presence of such a multitude of adversaries,
unless thou art pleased to strengthen him? Show, then, that thy power is
greater than Satan's, and that thy strength is not like man's strength.'
Froment concluded with the Lord's prayer.

[Sidenote: SERMON AT THE MOLARD.]

The people were touched: they had often heard the mechanical prayers of
the priests, but not a prayer of the heart. They acknowledged that the
reformers were certainly not partisans, but Christians who desired the
salvation of all men. The evangelist rose and stood once more upon the
stall, which was about to become the first pulpit of the Reformation in
Geneva. He had heard of the proceedings of the vicars of the Madeleine
and St. Germain's, and was moved by the furious opposition of the
priests to the preaching of the Gospel. He had their swords and
arquebuses still before his eyes, and resolved to oppose them with the
sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. It was necessary to lead
the Genevans away from the teachers who deceived them and direct them to
Scripture; it was necessary to break with the papacy. All eyes were
fixed on him: they saw him take a book—it was the Gospel. He opened it
at the seventh chapter of Matthew and read these words: _Beware of false
prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are
ravening wolves: by their fruits ye shall know them_. Then fixing his
eyes on his numerous audience, Froment began by expressing his faith in
the mysteries of God: 'Our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, very God and
very Man, conceived of the Holy Ghost and born of the Virgin Mary,
knowing the things that were to happen, foresaw that false prophets
would come, not with hideous faces, but with the most pleasing exterior
in the world, under the colour of holiness, and in _sheep's clothing_,
so that the children of God might be deceived. For this cause he
exhorted his disciples to be _wise as serpents and harmless as doves_.
Our God does not desire to have a foolish, giddy people, but a people
endowed with great wisdom, who can distinguish between the doctrine of
God and the doctrine of man. They who do not know it go astray, and are
like swine which cannot discern good things from bad, and swallow
everything indiscriminately.... Ah! if the serpent, which is but a
brute, is so wise in his generation, if he shuts his ears so as not to
hear the voice of the charmer, if he casts off his old skin when the
time for doing so has come, shall we not fear to follow the
cunningly-devised doctrines of men? Shall we not cast off our old skin
to put on a new one? Yes, we must put off our old nature which is sin,
Satan, idolatry, impurity, robbery, hypocrisy, pride, avarice, and false
doctrine, and put on the new man, which is Christ.... It would be of no
use to hear the Word of the Gospel if we did not change our wicked
intentions, and to distinguish the false teachers if we did not avoid
them. What! if we recognized venomous beasts should we live among them?
If we saw a dish of poison should we not beware of eating it?

'But Christ desires us further to be _harmless as doves_. Not with the
simplicity of monastic hypocrisy or bigotry, but with simplicity of
heart, without gall, lovely as that of doves.... If we walk in such
simplicity we shall overcome all our enemies, as Jesus Christ overcame
his enemies by his meekness.... Let us not begin fighting, killing, and
burning as tyrants do. The child of God has no other sword of defence
than the Word of God; but that is a two-edged sword, piercing even to
the marrow.'

Everybody understood Froment's allusion, and many, as they thought of
the riot of the evening before, looked and smiled at each other. But
while these words, delivered with energy, were stirring the crowd
assembled in the Molard, there was still greater agitation in the rest
of the city. The priests were irritated; they had tried to shut
Froment's schoolroom, and now he was preaching in the great square. They
went from one to another and excited the laity. 'The Lutherans,' they
said, 'have taken their _idol_ to the Molard to make him preach there.'
The vicar-episcopal being instructed by them, apprised the syndics, who
sent for the chief usher (_grand sautier_) Falquet, and ordered him to
stop the preaching. That officer immediately went down to the Molard,
the sergeants cleared a way through the crowd, and going up to Froment,
who was then speaking with great boldness, he stretched out his staff
towards him and said, 'In the name of my lords I command you to cease
preaching.'

Froment stopped, and turning to the chief usher answered him in a loud
voice, '_We ought to obey God rather than man_. God commands me to
preach His word, you forbid it; I am therefore not bound to obey you.'
The presence of the public force caused, however, some little sensation
in the audience. The evangelist noticing it turned to the people and
said, 'Do not be disturbed, my friends, but listen to what our Lord
says—that we must beware of false prophets.' Silence was restored,
everyone became calm, and Falquet, finding the evangelist was determined
to preach, thought it the safest plan to refer to his masters, and
withdrew with his officers. Froment then continued his discourse: 'In
order to be on our guard against false prophets, we must know what they
are, what is their doctrine and life, and with what they are clothed.
When they have been described to you in their natural colours, you will
avoid their teaching and their life as more deadly than the plague. The
plagues with which God has visited you heretofore[608] only touched you
outwardly; but this, more venomous than all the other poisons of the
earth, infects the soul, kills it, and casts it into perdition. With
this plague we and our fathers have been infected for nearly a thousand
years. Not that it came upon us suddenly, and in villanous and deformed
appearance; no, it came gradually, under the colour of holiness and in
sheep's clothing, these ravening wolves having even some good
intentions. But although Jesus Christ had warned us of their coming, and
had pointed them out to us, we have been blinded and led by the nose to
the ditch of deceit like cattle to water.... The son of perdition, who
sitting in the temple of God is worshipped as God—him you worship and
keep his commandments. Oh! what a fine master you serve, and what
prophets you have! Do you know them? Not to keep you in suspense I
declare openly that I am speaking of the pope, and that the false
prophets of whom I bid you beware are the priests, monks, and all the
rest of his train.

'But some of you, who yourselves belong to that band, will say: "It is
you that are the false prophets! Our law is old, and yours is but of
yesterday, and brings confusion among the people of every country. While
our friends reigned, we enjoyed so much good, so many happy years, that
it was quite marvellous; but since you have come to preach this new law
there have been wars, famines, pestilences, divisions, strifes, and
ill-will. Certainly you are not from God."

'Well, let us examine this statement; let us find out who are these
false prophets—we or your priests?... In order to discriminate in such a
matter the two parties ought to have a competent judge, who is no
acceptor of persons, and that the parties should not be judges in their
own cause. For if, in civil causes, we need good judges, good pleadings,
good witnesses, good reasons, and letters patent, how much more so in
the things of God!... We shall take, therefore, a competent judge, and
shall produce witnesses, documents, and ancient customs for the defence
of our right.'

Curiosity was excited; the hearers asked each other what was the judge's
name. Hitherto the pope had been appealed to as sole judge of
controversies: who was Froment going to put in his place?

'In the first place,' he continued, 'the judge shall be—God. Yes, God
who judges with righteous judgment, not regarding either rich or poor,
wise or foolish, and who gives right to whom it belongs;—the judge shall
be His true Son Jesus Christ, attended by His good and lawful witnesses
the prophets and apostles; and here,' said he, holding up the New
Testament, and showing it to the people, 'here are the sealed letters,
signed with the precious blood of our Lord, and the cloud of martyrs who
were put to death in order to bear this testimony. What read we there?

'Firstly, the Lord condemns the Pharisees as _blind leaders_. Now, do
you not think that yours (the Romish priests) are condemned by him?...
Those who call themselves saints through their own merits, the only
saints of the church, and who wish to lead you by their bulls, pardons,
auricular confessions, masses, and other tricks or manœuvres which they
have invented out of their own heads ... which the Pharisees never dared
do.

'Moreover, the Lord in St. Matthew bears this testimony: There shall
arise false prophets in the latter days who will say unto you, _Lo, here
is Christ or there_![609] Do they not tell you that Christ is there ...
in the inner part of the holy house, hidden in the farthest place, _in a
vessel_? Do not believe them. The true Christ is he who hath ransomed us
with his blood. Seek him by a real faith at the right hand of the
Father, and not in a house, in a cupboard, in the pyx ... as your new
redeemers and high-priests do.

'And what says Jesus Christ to-day for the fuller identification of the
false prophets? He not only says that they come in sheep's clothing, but
that _they walk in long robes, devour widows' houses, and for a show
make long prayers_.[610] The Lord does not forbid wearing long robes for
the necessities of the body, but the hypocritical superstitions
connected with them, the wearers esteeming themselves holier than the
laity, by being dressed, shaven, and shorn differently from us.... Yes,
by such means they have devoured widows; I do not mean to say that they
eat women; it is a manner of speaking, as we say of tyrants that they
devour their people, and of lawyers that they devour their clients, that
is to say, their substance; and not that they eat men's flesh, as the
cannibals do. _They break their bones_ (to get at the marrow), says a
prophet, _and eat the flesh of my people, as flesh within the
caldron_.[611]

'Look now, O people, I pray you, and judge for yourselves. Tell us who
are those who wear such clothing, such _long robes_, who _devour
widows_, making long prayers for show.... You know very well it is not
us, for we are dressed like other people; but if your priests were to
dress like us they would be apostate and excommunicate.

'Nay more, we do not lead poor people to understand that they ought to
bring us a portion of their goods, and that then we will save them; that
praying for them and the dead, we will bring them out of purgatory....
But your priests do so, and under such pretexts they have dragged into
their paws almost all the riches of the earth; and not a word must be
said about it ... for whosoever speaks of it will suddenly be put to
death, or be excommunicated, or called heretic and Lutheran.

'Ah! Jesus Christ, St. Paul, and the other apostles paint them so truly
to the life that there is no one so blind or stupid as not to recognise
them easily, except those who are afraid of losing their soup-tickets.
The Holy Scriptures call them wells without water, anti-christs,
despisers of the Lord, and say that they _give heed to doctrines of
devils, forbidding to marry, and commanding to abstain from meats which
God hath created to be received with thankfulness of them which
believe_.'[612]

While Froment was thus haranguing the people in the Molard, the
magistrates assembled in the hotel-de-ville learnt from the chief usher
that the sermon was still going on. The syndics were exasperated. The
canons and priests argued that as the civil power was helpless, they
ought to take the matter into their own hands, and, grasping their arms,
prepared to descend. At the same time, the council being resolved to
make an example, ordered the preachers to be apprehended wherever they
were found; and consequently the lieutenant of police, the
procurator-fiscal, with sergeants, soldiers, and priests, marched in a
large body to the Molard, angry and indignant at the evangelist's
boldness, and determined to throw him into prison. If Farel had been
placed beyond their reach, Froment at least should not escape. While
this excited band was descending the Perron with deadly intentions,
Froment, who either had no suspicion, or did not care about it, was
continuing his discourse to the people of Geneva.

'There are many other passages of scripture,' he said, 'which might be
brought forward for a stronger proof; but these must suffice to put you
in a position to judge whether we or your pastors are false prophets.
There is none among you who does not know that we do not forbid marriage
or meats; that we declare marriage holy, ordained from the beginning of
the world to all such as have not the gift of continence, without any
distinction of persons. But the pope does otherwise, and says that he
who hath not a lawful wife may keep a concubine (_Distinctio_ xxxiv.
cap. xvi. _Qui non habet uxorem, loco illius concubinam habere potest_);
for, he adds, I desire that they be holy.... Verily a wonderful holiness
is that!... I make you all judges. You have long known them better than
I have.

'As for meats, we leave every man free, as our Lord has done, exhorting
the people to use them profitably, without excess or superfluity, giving
thanks to God.... But these do the very opposite. Although Christ was
sent by the Father to teach us the truth, they bring us lies, dreams,
false doctrines, prohibitions of marriage and of meats, and all sorts of
nonsense, as if they were holy things.'...

[Sidenote: THE SERMON INTERRUPTED.]

At this moment a confused noise was heard. Claude Bernard, whose eyes
and ears were on the watch, perceived a band of armed men entering the
square. The lieutenant of the city, the procurator-fiscal, the soldiers
and the armed priests, exasperated and impatient, were occupying the
Molard. Bernard saw that resistance would be dangerous and useless;
besides the Reformation must not be established in Geneva by violence,
it must make its way by conviction. There was not a moment to be lost;
every one knew what would be the fate of the evangelist if he were
taken.... He must be saved. Bernard therefore sprang from his place and
rushed 'in great excitement' towards Froment, shouting to him at the top
of his voice:[613] 'Here are all the priests in arms ... the
procurator-fiscal and the lieutenant of the city are with them.... For
the honour of God descend, get off the stall, and let us save your
life!... Make your escape!' Froment would not come down: they entreated
him in vain; his heart burnt within him, for he perceived that his
discourse was stirring their souls.... How could he forsake his work at
such a decisive moment? But the priests and arquebusiers were coming
nearer; Some of the huguenots were already grasping their swords and
preparing to resist the sacerdotal gang. There would have been bloodshed
and death. 'Pray, for God's honour, let us avoid the spilling of blood,'
exclaimed Bernard. Froment could not resist these words. Some of his
friends caught hold of him, lifted him off the stall and dragged him
away. They took him through a narrow private passage, and by this means
reached Jean Chautemps' house. The door opened and the evangelist was
put into a secret hiding-place. The priests and soldiers vainly
endeavoured to reach him; the mass of hearers was between them and him.
The lieutenant ordered the people 'under heavy penalties' to retire; and
when the preacher was in safety, the assembly dispersed. The magistrates
and priests returned angry and disappointed to report this second
failure to the syndics. The Word had not been sown in vain; many of the
hearers found that they had received a glorious new year's gift. Such
was the first day of the year 1533 at Geneva.

[Sidenote: FROMENT IN HIDING.]

All the priests and their followers had not returned to the hotel de
ville. Froment had disappeared, but he could not be far off. Some of
them prowled about the adjacent streets, trying to discover the
reformer's hiding place. At last one of them found it out. Chautemps was
known to be a decided evangelist, and they called to mind that Olivetan
had lived in his house. Several catholics stationed themselves under his
windows, and when the night came, they began to make an uproar. This
alarmed Froment's friends; and going to his hiding place they told him
that 'he must move to the house of another citizen.' They went out by a
back-door, and, owing to the darkness, he was conducted without being
recognised to the house of the energetic Perrin, who was more dreaded
than the honest Chautemps. Ere long, however, the priests and their
adherents followed him there: 'Ami Perrin,' they shouted, 'we will pull
down your house and burn you in it if you do not send the Lutheran
away.' Perrin made use of stratagem: going out to the riotous catholics,
he said: 'We have liberty to keep an honest servant in our houses
without impediment from anybody.' He then said to Froment: 'You are my
servant, I engage you as such, and you shall work for me.' At the same
time a few of Perrin's friends, stanch huguenots, came up the street,
presenting such a threatening front to the priests, that they were
forced to retire. The syndics determined to convoke the great council on
the morrow.[614]

The circumstances were serious: the new doctrine had been preached
publicly, and Froment's bold address had made an impression, especially
on the huguenots. They had discovered that the surest means of
guaranteeing their political emancipation was to establish a religious
reformation. At the Molard, liberty and the Gospel had shaken hands. The
catholics asked whether the pope's sovereignty was about to fall to the
ground. The various parties grew warm, abused each other, and lively
discussions took place between them. The politicians maintained that if
the city was divided on such all-important matters, their
irreconcileable enemy Savoy would plant his white cross on the walls he
had coveted so long. Certain laymen, full of confidence in their own
ability, doubted whether strangers and madmen (_follateurs_) should be
permitted to vent their nonsense everywhere?... The priests spoke the
loudest: they asked the Genevans if they would forsake the faith of
their ancestors; if the catholic and apostolic religion, attacked,
overthrown, and annihilated, was to give place to a new doctrine that
would bring down the ruin of Geneva. The huguenots replied that if the
religion announced by the reformers was not that of the pope, the
schoolmen, the councils, and perhaps even of the Fathers, it was at
least that of the apostles and Jesus Christ, and consequently was older
than that of Rome. They represented that as the papal government was
nothing else than despotism in the church, it could produce nothing but
despotism in the state. The two parties became more distinct every day.
The syndics and councillors, wishing to restore concord, went from one
to another, trying to calm down the more violent; but it was a very hard
task.

[Sidenote: THE COUNCIL MEETS.]

On the 2nd of January, when the council of Two Hundred met, the premier
syndic proposed, 'that it should be forbidden to preach in private
houses or in public places without the permission of the syndics or the
vicar-episcopal,—and that all who knew of preachers guilty of infringing
this law should be bound to inform against them, under penalty of _three
stripes with the rope_.' At these words the huguenots exclaimed, 'We
demand the Holy Scriptures;' to which the friends of the priests
replied, 'We desire that sect to be utterly extirpated.' The council
thought to restore harmony between everybody by carrying a resolution
that Bocquet the gray friar should preach until next Lent.[615]

The premier syndic, who was distressed at the strife and hatred by which
the citizens were divided, proposed that 'all men, citizens, and
inhabitants, should forgive one another.' The Genevans, who were prompt
to anger, were equally prompt to reconciliation. 'Yes, yes,' they
exclaimed, as they lifted up their hands, 'We desire to love those who
are of a contrary opinion.' And soon bands of men might be seen parading
the streets, in which persons of the most opposite opinions held one
another affectionately by the arm.[616]

Meantime Froment remained in Perrin's house and wove ribbons, 'otherwise
he could not have stayed there,' as he informs us. Whilst seated in
silence at the loom, passing the shuttle to and fro, he deliberated
whether he should remain in hiding or again openly proclaim the Gospel?
Having made up his mind to go from house to house to strengthen those
who had believed, he went out and knocked at certain doors; a few of his
friends, armed with stout sticks, followed him at a distance, without
his knowledge, to prevent his being insulted. One day, however, a vulgar
woman abusing him roundly, Jean Favre, a violent huguenot, and his
body-guard, went up and gave her 'a sound slap on the face.' Froment
turned round, distressed at his friend's hastiness: 'It is not by
violence,' said he, 'that we shall gain friends, but by gentleness and
friendship.'

[Sidenote: ATTACK ON FROMENT.]

Another time Froment was crossing the Rhone bridge to go to Aimé
Levet's.[617] It was a holiday, and the priests at the head of a
procession were advancing on one end of the bridge as Froment arrived at
the other. They were carrying crosses and relics, mumbling prayers and
invoking the saints: _Sancte Petre_, chanted some; _Sancte Paule_,
chanted others. Froment, being taken by surprise and embarrassed,
determined to be moderate, and not to throw the saints into the river as
Farel had done at Montbeliard. He therefore stood still, but did not bow
to the images. When they saw this, the priests left off chanting and
began to shout: 'Fall on him!... fall on the dog!... to the Rhone with
him!' The devout women who followed them, breaking their ranks, rushed
upon the reformer; one caught him by the arm, another by the dress,
while a third pushed him from behind: 'To the Rhone' with him they
cried, and endeavoured to throw him into the river. But his body-guard,
consisting of John Humbert and some other huguenots, who were a little
way off, ran up and rescued Froment from the hands of these furies. Upon
this the women, priests, and sacristans, seeing that the Lutherans had
saved their _idol_, shouted still louder than before. A tumultuous crowd
filled the bridge. The huguenots, wishing to put Froment in a place of
safety, hurriedly thrust him into Levet's house, which was situated at
the corner of the bridge.[618] The populace, excited by the clergy,
instantly besieged the house: they flung stones at the windows, threw
mud into the shop, and at last rushed in and scattered the drugs and
bottles upon the floor. Levet was an apothecary—a profession much
esteemed. The huguenots, having put Froment in safety in a secret
chamber, went out and assisted by a few friends drove the priests,
women, and rioters from the bridge.

At night Froment left his hiding-place and returned to Perrin's, where
he assembled a few friends and told them that he thought it was his duty
to leave the city on account of these 'raging tempests.' Chautemps,
Perrin, Levet, and Guerin were much distressed, but they confessed that
the violence of his enemies rendered the evangelist's longer stay in
Geneva useless. Claude Magnin offered to accompany him, and when the
night came Froment bade his brethren farewell. Proceeding cautiously, he
quitted the city, crossed the Pays de Vaud, and arrived at the village
of Yvonand, where he rested from his Genevese battles.

Froment was not one of those eminent men who play a part because of
their great character, and whose influence is continually on the
increase. His ministry at Geneva during part of the winter 1532-33 was
the heroic period of his life, after which he seldom appears but in the
second or third rank: he was eclipsed by teachers who were superior to
him. In the briefness of his ministry he resembles those heavenly bodies
which attract all eyes for a few weeks, and then disappear; but he
resembles them also by the influence which the people ascribe to their
ephemeral passage. Froment's stay in Geneva shook the Romish traditions,
secured the Holy Scriptures from oblivion, began to shed a few rays of
light in the city, and laid the first foundations of the Church. Ere
long the Word of God was carried thither in greater fulness by Farel and
Calvin: the sun poured out all its light, and a solid majestic edifice
was built on the foundations laid by the poor schoolmaster.

[604] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 22.

[605] Ibid.

[606] Ibid.

[607] These particulars, this prayer, and the first sermon that followed
it have been recorded by Froment himself in his _Gestes de Genève_
published by M. Revillod, pp. 22-42.

[608] The plague was then pretty frequent at Geneva.

[609] Matth. xxiv. 23.

[610] Matth. xxiii. 14; Mark xii. 38; Luke xx. 46.

[611] Micah iii. 3.

[612] 1 Timothy iv. 1-3.

[613] 'Anhelo pulmone, in effusissimam vocem laxato.'—Spanheim, _Geneva
restit._ p. 52.

[614] Froment, _Gestes_, pp. 43, 44. La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain_,
&c. p. 50.

[615] Council Registers, 2 Jan. 1533; Gautier MS. Roset MS. _Chron._
liv. ii. ch. v. La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Hérésie de Genève_, p. 50.

[616] Council Registers, 2 Jan. 1533; Gautier MS. Roset MS. _Chron._
liv. ii. ch. v. La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Hérésie de Genève_, p. 50.

[617] 'In Leveti ædes, in ponte quo flumen Rhodani transitur sitas,
migrat.'—Spanheim, _Geneva restit._ p. 50.

[618] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 4.




 CHAPTER XIII.
 HOLY SCRIPTURE AND THE LORD'S SUPPER AT GENEVA.
 (JANUARY AND FEBRUARY 1533.)


[Sidenote: THIRST FOR THE GOSPEL.]

Froment's departure did but increase the love of the Gospel in serious
minds. Deprived of what they considered their right—hearing the Gospel
preached—they suffered from the want, and were determined to free
themselves from the spiritual destitution to which they were reduced by
the clerical system. Others felt no less decided aspirations for
liberty, and were unwittingly the instruments of a greater revolution
than they had imagined. These Genevans felt, as if by inspiration, that
at the beginning of the sixteenth century society was passing through a
crisis, and that a new phase was opening for mankind. They did more than
observe it: they were personally the chief actors in the revolution that
was about to be accomplished in the world. Leaving the barren nations in
their lifeless stagnation, the men of this little city shouted
'Forward!' and rushed into the arena.

Froment had hardly left Geneva before the partisans of the reformation
raised their heads. The Romish Church had on its side the bishop-prince,
the clergy, the Friburgers, and even the majority of the council and
people; but if the friends of reform were in a minority as regards
material force, they surpassed their adversaries in moral strength. The
historian asserts that from this moment the two parties were nearly
equal in power.[619] The grey friar Bocquet, who 'had managed with so
much address,' says a manuscript, 'that both parties went to hear him
with equal eagerness,'[620] now began to preach the christian truth more
openly. The astonished priests were still more exasperated against the
monk than they had been against the reformer, and solicited that he
should be silenced.

The hands of the clergy were ere long strengthened by a powerful ally.
On February 23, six Friburg councillors, stanch catholics, entered
Geneva, the bearers of a threatening letter. 'If you wish to become
Lutherans,' said they to the council, 'Friburg renounces your alliance.'
The syndics answered to no purpose that they desired to live as their
forefathers had done: the Friburgers made a great disturbance about the
grey friar's sermons, and the council decided, 'for the love of peace,'
that Bocquet should leave Geneva.

[Sidenote: BAUDICHON DE LA MAISONNEUVE.]

The friends of the Gospel, seeing that even the Franciscan was taken
from them, did not lose heart. The Holy Scriptures remained: they read
in their homes Lefèvre's New Testament, and formed meetings at which the
Word of God was explained. The assemblies 'which took place in the
houses here and there were multiplied,' and the number of believers
increased every day.[621] They met ordinarily at the end of the Rue des
Allemands, at the house of Baudichon de la Maisonneuve, who henceforward
became a most zealous protestant. Sprung from a noble and powerful
family in the republic, he had a decided character and some talent, and
carried to extremes his convictions and his desire to make them succeed.
Individual life had prevailed during the feudal times; in the sixteenth
century the social element was growing stronger every day. There were,
however, certain natures which still maintained their independent
individualism, and Baudichon was one of them. Accordingly, so long as it
was only a question of destroying the old order of things, he acquitted
himself valiantly; but he was less useful, when it was necessary to
build up the new order. He seems, however, to have been aware of his own
insufficiency. His arms were a house (_maison_), and above the crest an
open hand with these words: _Except the Lord build the house, they
labour in vain that build it_.

The Lord did build: assemblies were formed, and Baudichon's house became
the _catacombs_ (says an old author) in which the new Christians held
their humble meetings.[622] They arrived, saluted each other
fraternally, sat down in a large room, and remained a few moments in
silence. They knew that though they were many, they had all one sole
Mediator, present in the midst of them although unseen. Then one of them
would read a portion of Scripture, another of the better informed
explained and applied it, and a third prayed.... The believers departed
edified from their meetings, 'which were so different (they said) from
the pope's mass.'

Sometimes a great treat was granted them. Some evangelical foreigner
passed through Geneva; the news spread immediately to every family; the
place and time were named when he would preach, and the believers
flocked thither from every quarter. 'What is his name?' they asked one
day. 'Peter Maneri.' 'What is he?' 'A minister.' 'Where is he staying?'
'At Claude Pasta's.' And Claude Pasta's rooms were filled immediately.

These first evangelicals of Geneva were not content merely with being
taught sound doctrine; they knew that a cold knowledge of God can save
no man, and that it is necessary to live with the Spirit of Christ, and
as He lived. They had formed a fund among themselves, and Salomon was
the treasurer. Every one brought his mite for the relief of the poor,
whether Genevans or foreigners. Thus these christians learnt at once to
believe, to love, and to give.

Two kinds of protestantism were already beginning, however, to appear in
Geneva, which have not ceased and perhaps never will cease to exist—an
external and an internal protestantism. The pious and humble Guerin had
a servant who, full of admiration for his master's sermons, was also a
great talker. One day, wishing to do the same as his master, he began to
preach in the open street before a number of people. 'Why do you go to
mass?' he said: 'you are idolaters.... Instead of worshipping God, you
adore a wafer!' The poor orator was taken up and compelled to leave the
city in consequence of his sermon. Another day some huguenots entered a
pastrycook's shop: it was a Saturday in Lent. They asked for a plate of
meat. 'Impossible,' said the master. 'Not so much ceremony,' rudely
returned the huguenots. The pastrycook ran off to inform against them,
and they were condemned to pay a fine of sixty sous each, which
occasioned some disturbance. 'Lutherans, huguenots, heretics!' shouted
one party; 'Pharisees, mamelukes, papists!' answered the other.[623]

[Sidenote: OLIVETAN'S WORK.]

In the midst of these disturbances the most important work of the
reformation was progressing at Geneva. The pious Olivetan was labouring
night and day at the translation of the Bible. He believed that nothing
was more necessary for the Church of his time, and in his great love for
it, he determined to do all in his power to supply the want. 'O poor
little Church,' he said, 'although thou art desolate, mis-shapen, and
rejected, and countest for the most part in thy family the blind, the
lame, the maimed, the deaf, the paralytic, orphans and strangers, simple
and foolish ... why should we be ashamed to make thee such a royal
present? Do we not all need the consolation of Christ? For whom does the
Lord destine his Scripture, if not for his little invincible band, to
whom, as the real leader of the war, he desires to impart courage and
boldness by his presence?'[624]

Nothing disturbed Olivetan so much as the sight of the Church of his
day. The more he studied it, the more he was grieved by its misery and
convinced of the necessity of a total reformation, accomplished by the
Word of God. Never perhaps had its condition caused so profound and keen
a sorrow in any one. When he was alone in his room and seated at his
table, these bitter recollections would recur to him: 'I love thee,' he
exclaimed; 'I have seen thee in the service of thy hard masters; I have
seen thee coming and going, worried and plagued; I have seen thee
ill-treated, ill-dressed, ill-used, ragged, muddy, torn, dishevelled,
chilled, bruised, beaten, and disfigured.... I have seen thee in such
piteous case, that men would sooner take thee for a poor slave than the
daughter of the universal Ruler, and the beloved of his only Son.
Listen,' added he, 'thy friend calls thee; he endeavours to teach thee
thy rights and to give thee the watch-word, that thou mayest attain to
perfect freedom.... Stupified and bewildered by so many blows, bowed
down by so many cares brought upon thee by thy rough masters, wilt thou
persevere? wilt thou go thy ways and complete the foul and grievous task
with which they have burdened thee?'[625]

[Sidenote: TRANSLATION OF THE BIBLE.]

But Olivetan soon stopped in the midst of his work and asked himself
whether 'the humble translator' (as he calls himself) was capable of
performing such a task. He looked upon himself as the meanest of
believers, 'as one of the smallest toes on the lowly feet of the body of
the Church.'[626] But his very humility induced him to increase in
diligence. He procured the best copies of the Scriptures and compared,
as he tells us, 'all the translations, ancient and modern, from the
Greek down to the Italian and German.' Above all, he made great use of
the French translation by Lefèvre of Etaples, but rendered certain
passages differently. He studied the various texts, the use of the
Masoretic points, marks, consonants, aspirates, and unusual expressions.
He deliberated whether he should preserve in French certain Greek terms,
such as _apostle_ and _bishop_, or express them by the corresponding
word in French. 'If I preserve the Greek word,' he said, 'the thing
which it signifies will remain unknown, just as it has been to the
present day.' He therefore translated the Greek word _apostle_ by the
French word _envoyé_ (sent); instead of _bishop_ he wrote _surveillant_
(overseer); and _ancien_ (elder) instead of _priest_. Then he added
mischievously: 'And if any one is surprised at not finding certain words
in my translation which the common people have continually on their
lips, imagining they are in Scripture, such as _pope_, _cardinal_,
_archbishop_, _archdeacon_, _abbot_, _prior_, _monk_, he must know that
I did not find them there, and for that reason I have not changed
them.'[627]

On the 13th March the printer De Vingle asked permission to print the
Bible in French. The council was much divided, for the friends of the
clergy opposed his prayer. On the one side they called out _Scripture!_
and on the other _Church!_ The syndics thought it their duty to steer a
middle course, and granted permission to reprint Lefèvre's Bible without
adding or retrenching a word. They were afraid of Olivetan's
translation, and we shall see by and by where he was forced to get it
printed.[628]

Another desire absorbed the evangelicals of Geneva about this time. When
Guerin, Levet, Chautemps, and others met together in some humble room,
they expressed the happiness they should feel at assembling round the
Lord's table to commemorate his death. They had long ceased to take part
in the communion of the Romish Church, defiled as they thought it by
wretched superstitions; and desired earnestly to see the Lord's Supper
re-established among them in its apostolic purity. The christians of
Geneva asked for the Bible in the first place, and for the Sacrament in
the second. That is in the regular course. The Word of God creates the
christian: the Lord's Supper strengthens him. Christ first imparts to
his disciples the knowledge of the truth, which He does by the ministry
of the Word. Then He desires them to understand that he gives not only
christian ideas to believers, but that he gives himself, his own
life—that he comes (in his own words) to _abide in them_.[629] This is
the second phase of faith, and the Lord's Supper is its sign.

[Sidenote: GUERIN.]

The christians of Geneva, enlightened by Scripture, desired the Holy
Communion. But, said they, who will give it us? They had no ministers.
Had not Luther declared ten years before that in order to avoid
irregularity, the assembly, making use of its right, ought to elect one
or more believers to exercise the charge of the Word, in the name of
all.[630] They turned their eyes on Guerin. Few of the reformed were so
much esteemed as he was. Being an evangelical christian and not a
political huguenot, he had 'an ardent love for his brethren' and a zeal
full of boldness to profess the Gospel. It required some courage to
preside at the Lord's Supper in Geneva in the presence of the Romish
mass. 'The flesh is always cowardly,' said a christian of Geneva, 'and
pulls backwards, like an aged ass; and accordingly it needs the goad and
spur as much as he does.'[631] Guerin possessed, moreover, a cultivated
understanding, and was learned in theology.[632]

There remained one question: Where should the communion be held?—'At
Baudichon's,' answered one of them. 'No,' said the more prudent; 'not in
the city for fear of the opposition of the priests, who are very
irritated already.' Upon this Stephen d'Adda said, 'I have a little
walled garden near the city gates, where nobody can disturb us.' The
place was selected, the day named, and an hour fixed which would permit
them to meet without disturbance. It was early in the morning, as it
would appear.[633]

[Sidenote: FIRST SACRAMENT AT GENEVA.]

When the day arrived, many persons went out of the city and quietly
directed their steps towards D'Adda's garden, situated in a place called
Pré l'Evêque, because the bishop had a house there. A table had been
prepared in a room or in the open air. The believers as they arrived
took their seats in silence on the rude benches, not without fear that
the priests should get information of the furtive meeting.[634] Guerin
sat down in front of the table. Just at the moment (we are told) when
the ceremony was about to begin, the sun rose and illumined with his
first rays a scene more imposing in its simplicity than the mountains
capped with everlasting snow, above which the star of day was beginning
his course. The pious Guerin stood up, and after a prayer he distributed
the bread and wine, and all together praised the Lord. The communicants
quitted D'Adda's garden full of gratitude towards God.

It was not long, however, before their peace was troubled. Their enemies
could not contain themselves, and threatened nothing less than
excommunication and imprisonment. There were disputes. The priests
shrugged their shoulders at the sight of those paltry assemblies. They
said that the reformed, by busying themselves so much about _Christ_,
deprived themselves of the _Church_; while Olivetan and Guerin
maintained that the catholics, by speaking so much of the _Church_,
deprived themselves of _Christ_. The meeting of a few souls endowed with
a lively faith, who came to glorify Jesus Christ, was (they believed) a
truer church than the pope, cardinals, and all the pomps of the Vatican.
The exasperated priests vented their anger specially on Guerin, and the
danger which threatened him was so great, that he had to leave the city.
Hurrying quickly away, he took refuge at Yvonand with his friend
Froment, from whom he had received so much enlightenment.[635]

Thus Farel, Froment, and Guerin were compelled, one after another, to
quit Geneva; but the catholics laboured in vain: 'the reformed met every
day in houses or gardens to pray to God, to sing psalms and christian
hymns, and to explain Holy Scripture. And the people began to dispute
with the priests, and to discuss with them publicly.'[636]

Thus there were two winds blowing in different directions at Geneva—one
from the north, the other from the south. They could not fail to come
into violent collision and to engender a frightful tempest.

[619] Ruchat, iii. p. 186.

[620] Berne MS., ascribed to Bonivard, _Hist. helv._ v. 12.

[621] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 47.—'Domatim conventus habere.'—Turretini MS.

[622] 'In Domonovani Baudichonii ædibus, quæ concionum ordinariarum
_crypta_ erant.'—Spanheim, _Geneva restit._ p. 58.

[623] Council Registers, 4th and 26th March. Froment, _Gestes_, p.
47.

[624] Olivetan's Bible, _Dedication_.

[625] Olivetan's Bible, _Dedication_.

[626] 'Comme l'un des plus petits orteils des humbles pieds du corps de
l'église.'—Olivetan's Bible, _Apologie du translateur_.

[627] Olivetan's Bible, _Apologie du translateur_.

[628] Council Registers, Bellard, 1533.

[629] St. John xv. 4, 5.

[630] 'Wie man Kirchen Diener wählen und einsetzen soll.'—Luth.
_Opp._ lib. xviii. p. 433.

[631] Calvin.

[632] Spon, _Hist. de Genève_.

[633] It seems clear from Froment's narrative (p. 48) that the first
communion took place before the riots (p. 51), and therefore probably
before the middle of March. Spon confirms Froment's account (i. p. 481).
On the other hand Sister Jeanne de Jussie says that a sacrament was
celebrated after the first riot, on Holy Saturday, April 10th (_Le
Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 61). The only way of reconciling these two
statements is to admit (as we have done) two different celebrations (in
March and April), and not one only.

[634] 'Furtivo conventu.'—Spanheim, _Geneva restit._ p. 45.

[635] Froment, Gestes, pp. 48-51. Gautier MS. Spon, _Hist. de
Genève_, i. p. 481.

[636] _Vie de Farel._ Choupard MS.




 CHAPTER XIV.
 FORMATION OF A CATHOLIC CONSPIRACY.
 (LENT, 1533.)


Evangelical zeal was the occasion of the persecution. Its enemies were
angered; they could not understand the inappreciable life then
fermenting among their people. If a meeting was suppressed in one house,
it was held in another. 'They could not find any remedy against this.'

One, however, offered itself. A dominican monk, an inquisitor of the
Faith, had just arrived in Geneva. 'He is a great orator,' was the
report in the city, 'a fervent catholic, just the opposite of Bocquet.'
He had come to preach the Lent sermons in the greyfriar's stead, and
everybody hoped he would repair the evil the other had done. 'Deliver us
from this heresy,' said the heads of the Dominicans to him. The monk,
flattered by this confidence and proud of his mission, prepared a fine
discourse, and the next day or the next but one after Guerin's departure
he went into the pulpit. St. Dominic's church was crowded, and a good
many evangelicals, including Olivetan, were present. After a short
introduction the monk began with loud voice and ardent zeal to decry the
Bible, to abuse the heretics,[637] and to exalt the pope. 'He uttered
without restraint all that came into his head.' 'I will blacken them
so,' he had said, 'that they shall never be washed clean.'

[Sidenote: OLIVETAN BANISHED FROM GENEVA.]

Great was the excitement among the huguenots. 'If any one of us is so
bold as to move his lips,' they said, 'such a little liberty makes our
masters bawl out like madmen; but they are allowed to pour out their
poison and infect the world with it.' Olivetan, who was present during
the sermon, could hardly contain himself, but as soon as it was ended,
he got upon a bench, thinking it would be wrong of him not to make the
truth known. 'Master,' he said, 'I desire to show you honestly from
Scripture where you have erred in your discourse.' These words created
great astonishment. What! a layman presume to teach the Church.... The
priests and some of their creatures surrounded Olivetan, abused him,
pushed him off the bench, and would have beaten him. 'Whereupon up came
Claude Bernard, Jean Chautemps, and others, who took their friend away
from the monks and people who desired to kill him.'... But he did not
escape so easily: the council sentenced him to banishment, without
hearing or appeal. Everyone regretted him: 'He was a man,' they said,
'of such learning, godly life and conversation!' Olivetan was forced to
leave. Geneva, suffering under a violent commotion, cast off the
evangelists one after another, as the sea casts up the fragments of a
wreck.[638]

The clerical party was beginning to doubt whether these banishments were
enough.... When Farel was expelled, Froment appeared; when Froment had
got away, Guerin presided over a Lutheran sacrament; when Guerin had
been obliged to make his escape, Olivetan got upon a bench in the church
and publicly contradicted an inquisitor! He too was gone, but others
would not fail to come forward.... Canon Wernli, equerry De Pesmes, the
bold Thomas Moine, and other catholic chiefs, thought that an end should
be put to this state of things. The reformed saw the danger that
threatened them. Baudichon de la Maisonneuve consulted with his friend
Claude Salomon. They argued that as Friburg desired to enslave their
consciences, they ought to apply to Berne to deliver them. Salomon
wished to consult the Genevese councillors favourable to the Reform.
'No,' said Baudichon, 'let us ask nobody's opinion; let us do the
business alone. Which of the council would join us? John Philippe, John
Lullin, Michael Sept, Stephen of Chapeaurouge, Francis Favre, Claude
Roset? True, they are all friends of independence, but they have an
official position. If we apply to them, we shall only compromise them.
We are at liberty to expose our own lives, but not those of our friends.
Let us go to Berne alone.' Nevertheless two magistrates, Domaine d'Arlod
and Claude Bernard, were informed of their intention. They were
embarrassed, for they knew that such a step might cost the lives of
those who ventured it. The courage of the two patriots affected them.
'We believe we are following God's will,' said Maisonneuve. 'In that
case,' replied Arlod, 'we shall give you no instructions either verbal
or written, we shall only say: _Do whatsoever God shall inspire you to
do_.' It was with these words, recorded in the registers, that the two
Genevans departed for Berne.[639]

[Sidenote: BERNE AND LIBERTY OF WORSHIP.]

As soon as they arrived, they appeared before the council and explained
how the clergy were endeavouring to stifle the germs of faith in their
birth. The Bernese did not hesitate: greatly irritated by the violence
which the Genevans had used towards Farel,[640] in despite of their
letters of recommendation, they made answer that they would do
everything to support the Gospel in Geneva.

On the 25th of March the council of Geneva met. There was evidently
something new: many of the members wore an anxious look; others appeared
cheerful. Du Crest, the premier syndic, a man devoted to the Romish
Church, announced with an air of consternation, that he had just
received a letter from Berne in which the council of Geneva was severely
reprimanded. In truth, the Bernese did not mince matters: they
complained of the violence done to Farel and the persecution organised
in Geneva against the evangelical faith. 'We are surprised,' they said,
'that in your city the faith in Jesus Christ and those who seek it are
so molested.... You will not suffer the Word of God to be freely
proclaimed, and banish those who preach it.'[641]

This letter troubled the council. 'If we concede what Berne demands,'
they said, 'the priests will get up fresh disturbances. If we refuse,
Berne will break off the alliance, and the reformed will revolt.'
Whichever way they turned, danger seemed to threaten them. 'So that they
knew not what answer to give,' adds the register. Almost all of them
were enraged against Maisonneuve and Salomon. They were brought before
the council and confessed that they had gone to Berne and had solicited
the letter which had been sent. Upon this several mamelukes called out
'treason;' but the consciences of these two noble citizens bore witness
that they had served the cause of liberty and justice. They remained
firm, and the council, being disturbed and undecided, adjourned to the
next day the question of what was to be done.[642]

The agitation spread from the council-room to the chapter-house and into
the city. Everyone spoke about Berne's demand of full liberty for the
gospel. The canons, priests, and most devout of the laity were unanimous
for refusing; the daring Thomas Moine became the soul of this movement.
They resolved, upon his proposition, to intimidate the council and
obtain from it the total suppression of the evangelical meetings.
Forthwith the most zealous of the party went into the city and visited
from house to house.[643] At the same time Moine got a few of his
friends together and proposed to go to the council in a body: their
numbers, he doubted not, would overawe the syndics, and the catholics
would obtain their demands. This measure was resolved upon, and the
meeting fixed for the morrow.

[Sidenote: PROTEST OF THE TWO HUNDRED.]

Next day, when the council met, they were told that a considerable
number of citizens desired an audience. They were admitted, to the
number of about two hundred, including Thomas Moine, B. Faulchon,
François du Crest, Percival de Pesmes, and Andrew Maillard: their
countenances bore the mark of violent passions. 'Most honoured lords,'
said Moine, who was a clever speaker, 'notwithstanding the edict which
bids us live like brothers, many persons are endeavouring to sow
disorder and dissension among us. Some of them have gone to Berne, and
the lords of that place have written you a letter which disturbs all the
city.... Who are those guilty men who go and denounce their country to
the foreigner? Were they deputed by the council? What instructions did
they receive? What answer did they bring you? We beg to be informed on
these matters. We wish to know them, and whether anything has been done
tending to the ruin of the republic.'

The premier-syndic, amazed at such a speech, begged Moine and his
friends to retire, and the embarrassed council determined to
procrastinate.

'We will do everything in the world to bring this difficult matter
to a happy conclusion,' they answered. 'We will assemble the Sixty,
the Two Hundred, the heads of families, even the general council, if
necessary ... the whole republic. Rest content with this promise.'

'We have been deputed,' answered Moine, 'to demand that you should
produce before us those who went to Berne. We will not leave this room
until we have seen them. If you do not summon them, we will go and fetch
them.'

On hearing these words the council grew alarmed. What a disturbance and
what violence there would be in the council-chamber if the two huguenots
should appear before these excited catholics!... The syndics replied
that they would return an answer. This procrastination put the mamelukes
beside themselves. It was not Moine alone who protested: the two hundred
who surrounded him raised their hands and shouted in menacing tones:
'Justice, justice! Let us keep our promise to Messieurs of Friburg—that
Geneva would preserve the faith of its fathers.' The alarmed syndics
endeavoured by exceeding gentleness of manner (says a manuscript) to
appease the tumult; and the two hundred discontented catholics returned
to their homes with haughty look and resolute air. 'If the council
haggles any more,' they said, 'we will do ourselves justice!' In the
city, men said: 'We thought the catholics decrepid, downcast, asleep, or
dead ... but they are opening their heavy eyes; their strength is
returning, and the swift-flying vultures are about to pounce upon their
prey.'[644]

In fact, two of the syndics, and several councillors, with other laymen
of the catholic party and some priests, went into the city, and
endeavoured to persuade all they met to enter into the plot formed
against the Gospel. They told them that there was nothing to be expected
from the council. 'If the faith of our fathers is to stand, by our own
hands it must be supported,' they said. 'Hold yourselves in readiness to
march against the Lutherans.'

[Sidenote: AGITATION AGAINST THE LUTHERANS.]

The _Lutherans_, they said. It was indeed the Reformation that was then
stirring up all the wrath of the clerical party. Some of its members, no
doubt, hated liberty as much as the Gospel; but most of the catholics
would have tolerated the ancient franchises of the people. The point on
which they were all agreed was an unquenchable opposition to that new
doctrine which they called _Lutheranism_, Luther being in their opinion
its great apostle. This Lutheranism was fundamentally what was
afterwards named Calvinism, for Luther and Calvin were one in the great
evangelical principles. All the reformers preached in the sixteenth
century, in Europe, and particularly at Geneva, that the pure grace of
God was the only power of eternal salvation, and that the Church was
composed of all those who possessed true faith, and not of those who
slavishly adhered to a dominating hierarchy. The doctrines of
Lutheranism and of the Reform[645] might differ, in regard to certain
abstract questions, as touching the finite and the infinite, for
instance: Lutheranism might put in bolder relief the _immanence_ of God,
while the Reform inclined towards his _transcendance_, to use the
language of philosophers and theologians; but they were and they are
agreed in all that is essential; and it was these living doctrines that
a powerful party was endeavouring to expel from Geneva.

[Sidenote: SECRET PLOTS.]

On Thursday night the canons, priests, and chief 'partisans of the papal
religion,' as Wernli, De Pesmes, Moine, and their friends, met in the
vicar-episcopal's great hall. They arrived one after another, most of
them armed to the teeth, and breathing vengeance: the room was soon
filled, and many stood in the courtyard. Their intention was carefully
to arrange the plot that was to free them from the Reform. Some
huguenots, informed of the conspiracy, drew near to watch their
adversaries. The circumstances, the tumultuous crisis that was
approaching, the interests to be discussed, the violent passions with
which the two parties were animated, the late hour at which this
conference was held—all combined to render it a solemn one. Men's minds
became clouded, and certain huguenots of ardent imagination, who gazed
at a distance upon the walls behind which these plotters were assembled,
indulging in fantastic visions, fancied they saw the furies, torch in
hand, stirring up discord;[646] but they were merely monks clad in their
long robes, and holding the torches with which the hall was lighted. At
length the proceedings began.[647] Some of the speakers represented that
the number of rebels increased daily; that the sacerdotal authority
decreased proportionately; and that if things were allowed to go on so,
ere long nobody would take any account of the Church. 'Let us not lower
ourselves to dispute with heretics. Let us not wait for help from the
magistrates. The Council of Sixty is about to meet, but they will
hesitate just like the ordinary council. Those bodies are too weak; we
must act without the government; we are the strongest. If it comes to
fighting, the defenders of catholicism will be ten, perhaps twenty, to
one. When the evangelists are conquered, we will invite the bishop back,
who will return with all the banished mamelukes, and inflict on the
rebels the punishment they deserve. Geneva, preserved from the
Reformation, will no longer be able to spread it through the surrounding
countries, and will be in future ages the support of the papacy. Let us
execute justice for ourselves; let us fly to arms, ring the tocsin, draw
the sword, and call upon the faithful to march against those _dogs_, and
make a striking example of the two traitors who went to Berne. Let us
kill all who are called Lutherans, without sparing one;[648] which will
be doing God a good service. We are assured of the bishop's pardon: his
lordship has already sent us the pardons in blank. At the sound of the
great bell, let everyone go armed to the Molard, and let the city gates
be shut, so that nobody may escape.' This is what was said in the
vicar-episcopal's house. The leaders agreed upon the place of meeting,
the number of the armed bands, the names of those who should command
them, and the manner in which the reformed should be attacked;
everything was arranged. The assembly applauded; the conspirators,
raising their hands, bound themselves by a solemn oath to execute the
plan and to secresy;[649] after which they retired to take a brief
repose. The festival of Easter was approaching: more than two centuries
before, the Sicilian Vespers had filled Palermo and all Sicily with
massacre; the enemies of the Reformation in Geneva desired also to
celebrate the same festival with rivers of blood.

The Council of Sixty met the next day (Friday, 28th March 1533). Never
perhaps was there a body more divided. When the catholics demanded that
the promise made to Friburg should be kept, the huguenots represented
that if the council decided in favour of the Romanist party, not only
would the bishop resume his former power, but that having seen the
Reform on the brink of triumphing, he would throw himself into the arms
of Savoy, as the only power capable of saving the Roman faith. The
council, placed between these two fierce currents, remained in its usual
indecision, and declared in favour of neither. This was just what the
leaders of the Romanist party expected. Everything was prepared for
carrying out the _conspiracy_ (to use Froment's word) which had been
planned the night before.[650]

[Sidenote: THE PARTIES ASSEMBLE.]

The cathedral had been selected as the place of meeting. The first who
entered it was the valiant canon, Peter Wernli. He was armed from head
to foot, and advanced into the sanctuary as a general goes to battle.
Wernli handled the sword as well as his brother, who was a captain in
the service of the king of France. Gifted with the strength of a
Hercules or a Samson, he designed, like the first, to drive Cerberus out
of the city; and like the second, to pull down the pillars of the
temple. He said to those who had gathered round him in St. Pierre's: 'We
will cut off the heads of those who went to Berne and of all their
friends.' Three hundred armed canons and priests came after him, and
then a great number of their lay followers. 'The Lutherans threaten us,'
said some of these angry citizens; 'they want to rob the churches and
convents.' Such a tale could not fail to excite their minds still more.

The huguenots, informed of the plot arranged at the vicar-general's, and
observing the catholics making ready for the attack, saw at once that
their first act would be to seize Baudichon de la Maisonneuve, on
account of his journey to Berne, and inflict on him the fate of
Berthelier and Levrier. They therefore assembled to the number of sixty
around their friend to defend his life at the price of their blood. Some
of Moine's partisans went to inform the assemblage at St. Pierre's that
they had seen several persons enter Maisonneuve's house.

This information was a signal of battle to the conspirators. 'Forward!'
they cried: 'let us go and attack them!' Two catholics, friends of
peace, who happened to be in the church (B. Faulchon and Girardin de la
Rive), fearing a civil war, ran to the council. 'Both parties are under
arms,' they said; 'some at St. Pierre's, others at Baudichon's: the
first are preparing to march down against their opponents.... Should
they do so, there will be a great disturbance:[651] look you to it.' The
council, suspending all other business, ordered the four syndics to
proceed with the badges of their office, first to St. Pierre's (for the
aggressors were there), and next to Maisonneuve's, and command both
parties to return immediately to their homes.[652]

The task was a difficult one, but the four magistrates did not hesitate
to undertake it. Preceded by their ushers they entered the cathedral,
with the syndical staff in their hands. At the sight of them the crowd
grew calm. 'We desire to know,' said the premier-syndic, 'the cause of
this meeting.' The assembly answered with one voice: 'We are going to
fight the Lutherans who are assembled in the Rue des Allemands. They are
always keeping us in fear, and we must put an end to it. We can no
longer endure such a pest in the city.... They are worse than the
Turks.'[653]

[Sidenote: VANDEL WOUNDED.]

At this moment two of the reformed, uneasy as to what might happen,
approached the cathedral, and mounting the steps before the porch, stood
there some time, peeping into the church, undecided whether they should
enter. The priests and mamelukes perceiving them, exclaimed: 'Look at
the wicked wretches, they are come to spy the christians!' At last, with
more zeal than prudence, the two evangelicals entered. They were J.
Goulaz and P. Vandel, the latter a man of twenty-six, who had adopted
the Reform, but always retained a great affection for his old catholic
friends.[654] Addressing the syndics with great mildness, he said: 'Pray
put an end to this disturbance, lest worse should come of it.' When the
mamelukes heard his words, they became angry and drew their swords to
strike the two huguenots. Portier, the episcopal secretary, a violent
and fanatical man, seeing Vandel, exclaimed: 'How is it that you are
here, traitor!' Several of them rushed upon Vandel, threw him to the
ground, and trampled on him; Portier, drawing his dagger (_sanguidede_)
and seizing the young man 'in a cowardly manner by the back,' (says the
Council Register) stabbed him near the left shoulder, intending to kill
him. Vandel lay seriously wounded on the pavement of the cathedral 'with
great effusion of blood.'[655]

A crowd of priests immediately gathered round him and began to lament
loudly, not because a man had been stabbed, but because blood had
defiled the temple. 'Never after was bell rung or divine service
performed in that church, or even in the other churches, because the
mother-church was closed, until it was purified by My lord the
suffragan,' says Sister Jeanne.

Goulaz, it is reported, seeing his friend on the ground, ran off to the
evangelicals and told them all. Some of them, notwithstanding the danger
which they incurred, proceeded to the cathedral, and obtained the
syndics' permission to carry Vandel away. They removed him to
Baudichon's house, where they got him to bed. A few huguenots
constituted themselves his nurses, and as they looked on their pale and
blood-stained friend, they asked one another what would happen next.

[637] Lutheranos proscindentem.'—Turretini MS.

[638] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 49.—Gautier MS.

[639] Council Registers, 20th March, 1533.—Gautier MS.

[640] 'Violentia qua in Farellum sævitum.'—Spanheim, _Geneva
restit._ p. 57.

[641] Letter from Berne, 20th March, 1533.—MS. Archives of Geneva, No.
1090.

[642] Council Registers, 25th March, 1533.—Gautier MS.

[643] 'Accendunt clerici plebem sibi obnoxiam.'—Spanheim, _Geneva
restit._ p. 57.

[644] Council Registers, 26th March, 1533.—Gautier MS.; Roset
_Chron._ liv. ii. ch. ix.

[645] The word Reform is applied exclusively to the Franco-Helvetic or
Calvinistic portion of the Reformation.

[646] 'Nocte furiis facibusque strenue a clero subditis.'—Spanheim,
_Geneva restit._

[647] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 51.

[648] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 51.

[649] 'Solenni sacramento.'—Spanheim, _Geneva restit._

[650] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 50.—Roset MS., _Chron._ liv. ii.
ch. x.—Gautier MS.

[651] The register has the word _ovaille_ (ovallium), Council
Registers, 28th March, 1533.

[652] Roset MS. _Chron._ liv. ii. ch. x.—Gautier MS. Council Register
_ad diem_. La Sœur de Jussie, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 51.

[653] _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 51.

[654] Galiffe, _Notices généalogiques de Genève_, I. p. 80.

[655] La Sœur de Jussie, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 52.—Froment,
_Gestes de Genève_, pp. 50-51.




 CHAPTER XV.
 FIRST ARMED ATTACK OF THE CATHOLICS UPON THE REFORMATION.
 (MARCH 28, 1533).


This effusion of blood, far from calming men's minds, served but to
inflame them. 'All good christians were more excited than before,' says
Sister Jeanne. The skirmish in which, being seven hundred against two,
they had gained the advantage, was an omen of victory! They looked at
each other and counted their numbers. 'We are the majority and well
armed,' they said; 'we must sally out boldly and fight these rascals.'
The principal leaders, lay and ecclesiastic, withdrawing into a private
part of the cathedral, held a final council. The most influential
represented that the huguenots had celebrated the sacrament, that they
persevered in holding their meetings 'here and there,' that the
sacerdotal authority was decreasing and the number of heretics
increasing, and that there was only one means left of saving the Romish
faith—putting every heretic to death.[656] The syndics stretched out
their wands in vain, and ordered them to keep the peace. All was
useless. 'Now is the time,' cried the priests; 'let us run to the great
bell and give the signal.' At the word many hastened to the tower of the
church and began to ring the tocsin. At the same time those who were in
the church prepared to march.

[Sidenote: CATHOLICS PREPARE TO FIGHT.]

Three of the syndics were devoted to the catholic party: Nicholas du
Crest, Pierre de Malbuisson, and Claude Baud. Finding that they could
not stop the riot, they determined if possible to direct it. Claude
Baud, lord of Troches, in whose castle many a plot had been concocted
against the independence of Geneva, would have desired to make an end of
the Reform, but not by violent means. Seeing, however, that it was
impossible to check the torrent, he put himself at the head of the
_émeute_, but with the hope of restraining it, and afterwards of
repressing the Reform by legal means. 'Shut the doors of the church,'
said Baud. This had a surprising effect: the catholics on a sudden grew
calmer. The syndic feared that if they came to blows, the two parties
might become confused in the battle, and that friends would strike
friends without recognising each other. He ordered a great bundle of
laurel boughs to be brought in, and addressing the crowd around him,
said: 'Formerly, citizens, they used to give garlands to the conquerors;
I give you these laurels before the victory: they will distinguish you
from the wicked.' The combatants each took a sprig and fastened it to
their caps; and then the pious catholics who were in the crowd, wishing
to give a religious character to the _émeute_, proposed that they should
implore the blessing of heaven before they started. The ecclesiastics
were silent immediately, and turning to the choir, prostrated themselves
in fervent devotion before the high altar. All present knelt down 'with
great abundance of tears,' and sang the famous hymn of the Roman
breviary:

  Vexilla regis prodeunt.[657]

As soon as the strain was ended, one of the priests said: 'Let us
commend ourselves to the blessed Virgin, that she may intercede for us
and for the holy faith!' And all, as with one voice, joined in the
_Salve Regina_—a prayer which the people were accustomed to sing at the
execution of a criminal. The echoes of this ominous chant having died
away in the aisles of the vast cathedral, the priests rose from their
knees: one of them took the cross, while some laid hold of other
banners. 'Behold,' they said, 'behold the standards of the king
advancing.' The excitement grew greater every minute. It was Friday, the
one before Passion Week. 'Let us this day call to mind the day on which
our Lord was willing to shed his blood for us, and therefore let us not
spare ours. Let us take vengeance on his enemies who crucify him anew
more cruelly than the Jews did.'[658] They uttered such cries that 'it
was quite pitiful to hear them,' and 'there was no heart so hard as not
to melt into tears.'[659]

[Sidenote: THE CORPS ARE FORMED.]

All this emotion was not without a cause. The religion of the middle
ages was disappearing. We believe that it must disappear altogether; and
yet we are touched by the enthusiasm displayed by its adherents, which
was worthy of a better cause. Syndic Baud, who wished to give an
appearance of legality to the clerical movement, called Percival de
Pesmes, and ordered him to go with a body of men and fetch the banner of
the city. At length the great bell, which had kept on ringing, was
silent; the ringers came down from the tower and joined the rest of
their party. The churchmen then formed into companies and elected their
captains; all were full of courage and ardour, and St. Pierre's
resembled a parade-ground rather than a church. The companies defiled in
front of the high altar, and the syndic, ordering the doors to be thrown
open, all the clerical army quitted the temple, descended with a firm
step the steep street of the Perron, and proceeded towards the Molard,
which was the general rendezvous for those who desired on that day to
destroy both the reformed and the Reformation in Geneva.

As soon as the tocsin was heard, the city was agitated to its most
retired quarters, and even the inhabitants of the surrounding districts
had listened with alarm to its ill-omened sound. The startled and uneasy
citizens caught up their arms, rushed hastily from their houses, and ran
'like poor wandering sheep without a shepherd,' some one way, some
another, not knowing where to go, what was the matter, and whether the
enemy was within the walls or without. The peasants of the vicinity,
forewarned by the agents of the canons, entered the city in arms. The
confusion continued to increase: some cried 'Fire,' others 'Fall on;'
all shouted 'Alarm, alarm!' Some ran to the gates, others to the
hôtel-de-ville, and others to the ramparts; but the priests who had
contrived the affair, and who were marching 'in large bands' from
different quarters towards the Molard, excited the ignorant people to
follow them, and shouting so as to drown all other cries, 'Down with the
Lutherans,' thus made it known who were the enemies to be attacked. 'To
the Molard,' they added; 'Down with the dogs that want to destroy our
holy mother Church.' No fervent catholic hesitated; all ran along the
streets, isolated or in bands; they drew their swords, then arquebusses
rattled.... It was like a flock of birds in search of their prey,
opening their talons, and plunging swiftly upon the Molard.[660]

[Sidenote: THE MUSTERING OF THE HOSTS.]

Meanwhile the main clerical body, that which started from St. Pierre's,
arrived. It numbered from six to seven hundred men—canons, priests,
monks, sacristans, and devout laymen, all well armed, Syndic Baud
marching at their head, and 'wearing his great hat and feathers.' When
this body debouched on the square by the arcade of the Fort de l'Ecluse,
the Molard and adjacent streets were filled with an agitated and
confused crowd. But immediately, by the syndic's order, companies were
formed in imitation of that of St. Pierre's, and all the people put
themselves 'in order for fighting.' Baud having thus drawn out his
corps, proceeded to count them: there were about 2,500 men,[661] not
reckoning the old men, women, and children, who shouted and wept, and
although unarmed, added to the tumult. The catholics were full of hope.
To the majority of them, the struggle was a mere party matter; but
others, better instructed and better theologians than the rest, felt
that it was an effort to expel for ever from Geneva the doctrines of
protestantism touching the pre-eminence of Holy Scripture,
justification, works, the mass, the Church, and especially grace, to
which alone the Reformation attributed salvation, while the Romish
Church claimed a part in conversion for the natural powers of man, and
looked upon this difference between the two Churches as the essential
point. At the same time, however, it must be acknowledged that just then
they troubled themselves very little about theology. Being ready to
contend with the arms of men of war, the two bodies were especially
animated by political passions. The catholics feared lest their enemies
should succeed in escaping. 'Shut the gates of the city,' said the
syndic, 'so that no one can take flight.' Again cries were heard:
'Forward, lead us to Baudichon's.' 'No,' answered Baud, 'let us wait for
the other corps before we attack.'

There were still three bands to come: the first, commanded by the
bishop's equerry, Percival de Pesmes, was to come straight from the
hôtel-de-ville, bringing the banner, as we have said; the second,
commanded by Canon de Veigy, descending from the west, was to make for
the Molard by the Rue de la Cité; the third, coming from the suburb of
St. Gervais, was to cross the Rhone bridge, and was commanded by Captain
Bellessert. 'He was a stout fellow and like a madman,' says Froment. The
band that he conducted was the most violent in the republic. These three
corps united with the 2,500 men already at the Molard could not fail to
give the death-blow to the reformed and the Reformation.

But as they did not appear, the catholics and mamelukes who were ready
for fighting, zealous in the cause of the pope, and overflowing with
hatred for the Reform, became impatient, and striking the ground with
the butt-ends of their guns, desired to march forthwith. 'Forward!' they
cried. 'Let us wait,' said the syndic, whether because he feared that
'their business would not take well,' as the chronicle says; or because
he wished by an imposing force to constrain the reformed to surrender
without fighting; or, lastly, because he hoped that if he
procrastinated, some unforeseen circumstance might happen to disarm the
combatants. 'We want artillery,' he said, 'to besiege Baudichon's
house.' This quieted the most ardent, by giving them something to do;
they hurried off to the arsenal, but it was doubtful whether it would be
opened to them, as the captain-general was opposed to them. The
artillery-keeper, named Bossu (hunchback), in consequence of his
infirmity, a man of vulgar character and suspected morals, and a strong
partisan of the priests, did not hesitate. He delivered up the artillery
to the catholics, who dragged away the cannon with much uproar, planted
them in the square, and loaded them.[662]

At this moment arrived the band led by the descendant of the crusaders,
the young and dashing Percival de Pesmes, eager to fight, like his
fathers, for the pope and his Church against these new Saracens. He bore
the great banner with pride, and, defiling with his corps, drew them up
in line of battle. Syndic Baud took the banner from his hands, and
planted it in the middle of the square. The people, electrified at the
sight, 'raised a loud shout.'[663] There is no longer any doubt: the
republic is arming, the city banner floats above the catholic ranks, and
the huguenots are only rebels.

[Sidenote: THE NUNS OF SAINT CLAIRE.]

The monks took the most active part in this business; the convents were
therefore empty, all but that of Saint Claire, which alone was not
deserted. The nuns, however, wished to take part in the struggle:
'Alas!' they said, 'our worthy fathers have gone to share in the fight
with a number of monks, because it is in behalf of the faith.... Let us
kneel before God that He may show mercy to the poor city.' The mother
abbess drew a cross of ashes on the foreheads of the sisters, after
which they marched in procession round the cloister, invoking in devout
litanies the protection of the whole celestial choir. Then forming a
cross, they took their places in the middle of the choir, and there,
distracted and weeping, they fell on their knees and cried aloud:
'Mercy, O God! through the intercession of the glorious Virgin Mary and
all the Saints! Give victory to the Christians, and bring the poor
wanderers back to the way of salvation.'[664]

At this moment the sisters heard a noise at the gate of the convent: it
was a few good catholic women who, very much afraid themselves, came to
bring the sisters tidings calculated to add to their distress. 'If the
heretics win the day,' they said, 'they will certainly make you all
marry, young and old—all to your perdition.'[665] This was the customary
bugbear of the poor nuns. They were superstitious and even fanatical,
but nothing indicates that they were not pure. A tradition to the effect
that there was an underground communication between their convent and
that of the gray friars is a fiction as void of foundation as the
frightful news of a _forced marriage_ brought by their indiscreet
friends. The terrified nuns crossed themselves, sang their litanies once
more, and cried louder than ever: 'O holy Virgin, give victory to the
Christians!'

[Sidenote: A CRUEL HUSBAND.]

The agitation in the city was then at its height; the shouts of the
priests were frightful,[666] They bawled lustily to those who lagged
behind, exhorted those who appeared indifferent, and animated the whole
body with voice and gesture, as hunters urge their hounds after the
stag. The catholics responded to the tumultuous clamours of these
ministers of disorder and strife. But the tempest was not confined to
the streets: scenes still more harrowing were taking place in the
houses. 'Alas!' said the wisest men, 'there is no humanity left, and
they take no account of the ties of nature.' One of the most fiery
catholics, hearing the tocsin, was hurriedly fitting on his armour, when
his wife, a fervent Romanist like himself, and whose father was at the
head of the Lutherans, was filled with terror at seeing her husband's
animation, and looked at him with a dejected countenance. She was Micah,
daughter of Baudichon de la Maisonneuve. Her catholic faith did not make
the young wife forget the sweet and holy ties that bind a child to her
father. She shuddered at each malediction uttered by her husband against
the author of her days. At length her grief broke out in a flood of
tears. Her fanatical husband, exasperated to the highest degree against
Maisonneuve, who was regarded as the main support of the heresy, turned
back and, without showing the least pity, said: 'Wife, cry as much as
you please. If we come to blows and I meet your father, he shall be the
first on whom I shall try my strength.... I will kill him, or he shall
kill me.' And then, callous at the sight of Micah, whose tears flowed
faster at these words which pierced her heart, the barbarous husband
said as he left her: 'He is a bad Christian, a renegade, the worst of
the worst—this wretched Baudichon!'[667] Micah was twice married: first
to Bernard Combet, and secondly to Guyot Taillon. We have not been able
to discover which of her two husbands was so cruel; probably it was the
first.

These distressing scenes became more heart-rending every moment. In the
houses nothing was heard but the cries and groans of mothers and wives,
of daughters and young children. The streets echoed with the oaths of
the men who cursed _that law_ (the Reformation), and the first man who
had brought it there. 'In truth, it is not possible,' says the
chronicler, 'to describe the cries and tears which then filled the whole
city.' But the mournful sounds of grief and sorrow which rose in the air
could not drown the fanatical and sonorous voices of the priests.[668]

During this time a deep and solemn awe prevailed in Baudichon's house.
The evangelicals were not insensible to the hatred which was arrayed
against them, but the greatness of the danger gave them that calmness
which the Christian experiences in the presence of death. The strong
encouraged the weak, addressing them in words of piety and feeling:
'Ah!' they said, 'if all the world would agree in the truth, we should
be at peace; but as the majority fight against it, we cannot confess
Christ without encountering resistance and hatred. It is the malice of
the wicked one that divides us into contrary bands, and everywhere
kindles strife and debate.'[669]

[Sidenote: NOVEL REINFORCEMENT.]

An unexpected reinforcement added to the numbers of the catholic troop.
The women of that party had not all a tender soul and bruised heart,
like Baudichon's daughter: the virtues of the evangelical women, the
eagerness with which they had renounced their jewels and dress in favour
of the poor, had excited the displeasure of many of them; and the
thought that they no longer came to kneel with them at the altar of
Mary, had filled them with anger and hatred. The tempest then sweeping
through the city fanned the evil passions of the weaker sex. In every
house the wives and sisters, and even the mothers of the catholics got
ready; they assembled the children from twelve to fifteen years old, and
proceeded with them to the Place d'Armes, where they had agreed to meet.
'In this assemblage of women,' says Sister Jeanne, who was very intimate
with them, 'there were full seven hundred children from twelve to
fifteen years old, firmly resolved to do good service along with their
mothers.'

When these ladies met, they held a parliament of a new sort; and their
speeches were far more impassioned than those of the men. They had no
doubt that their husbands would put all their adversaries to death, but
were vexed to think that their wives would be left alive. 'If it should
happen,' said one of them, 'that our husbands fight against the
unbelievers, let us also make war and _kill their heretic wives, in
order that the breed may be extirpated_.'[670] This was the only way,
these pious ladies thought, of preserving Geneva catholic; if the wives
and children were spared, the heresy would shoot forth again in a few
years. A unanimous cry of approval was raised by the women, and even by
the accompanying children, and the Amazons immediately prepared for the
combat. They armed their children, distributing little hatchets and
swords among them; when there were no more weapons to give out, their
mothers told them to fill their hats and caps with stones. They, too,
fiercely gathered up their aprons, which they filled with missiles.
Sister Jeanne does not omit a single detail in her narrative, for it is
of this that she is most proud. Some of these women had stationed
themselves at the windows to crush the evangelicals at the moment of
battle by pouring their missiles down upon them; but the more determined
marched with the children to the Molard, where they arrived with loud
shouts. Strange madness! as if God who requires in the Christian woman
_a meek and quiet spirit_, and forbids her to be adorned 'with braided
hair and costly array,' did not all the more forbid her to arm herself
with stones and march to battle. Frenzied and guilty women! Some
huguenots, observing them from afar, asked with astonishment what could
be the meaning of such a singular assemblage. They seemed to resemble
those druidesses who (as it is related) when their sanctuary was
threatened, ran to and fro along the shore of the lake, in black robes
with hair dishevelled, and waving torches in their hands.[671]

Delighted at the sight, the priests, unwilling to be behindhand,
exclaimed: 'We will be the first to defend our spouse the Church.' There
were about one hundred and sixty armed priests in the square. If the
clergy and women set the example, shall the citizens remain behind? The
whole body assembled at the Molard shouted again and again 'Forward,
forward!' The syndics did not incline to attack, but the excited crowd
carried them away.[672] The plan was to march to Baudichon's house,
where the huguenots had assembled, to set fire to it, and thus, having
forced them to come out, to murder them as they were escaping from the
flames by the doors and windows.[673] Citizens, priests, women and even
children, wished to have the privilege of being the first to strike
Maisonneuve, Salomon, and their friends; torrents of heretical blood
were to flow in the streets. 'Forward!' they repeated, but amid the
general agitation the beautiful plumes that ornamented the syndic's hat
remained stationary. Baud wishing to temporise, and to avoid bloodshed,
refused to give the signal: 'To be more sure,' he said, 'and in order
that none may escape from our hands, let us wait for the corps from St.
Gervais.'[674] The syndic still hoped that the reformed would lay down
their arms and surrender at discretion to an imposing force.

[Sidenote: FEELINGS OF THE REFORMED.]

The reformed assembled in Baudichon's house on the left bank of the
river, at the corner of the streets of the Allemands and of the
Corraterie (about 450 paces from the Molard) had gradually seen their
numbers increase. Many of their friends, who at first desired to remain
at home, observing the danger that threatened their brethren, had come
to their help, determined to conquer or die with them. The enthusiasm
had spread even to the children and excited them to acts of devotedness
beyond their years. 'A young apprentice went there, in spite of father,
mother, and priests, and exhorted them all to be of good cheer.'[675]
The elder portion were not blind to the gravity of the situation, but
they remained firm, being full of confidence in God. 'As a spark,' they
said, 'may suddenly set fire to a whole city, so Geneva has in an
instant been stirred up to riot.... But let not our hearts be troubled;
the Lord holds the tempests and whirlwinds in His hand, and can appease
them whenever He pleases.'

Sinister omens might intimidate them. They had before them the unhappy
Vandel, faint and bleeding.... They approached the wounded young man
with compassion. 'See,' they said, 'see how the bishop and his officers
treat the best citizens.' Noticing the paleness of his face, they
despaired of his life, and gloomy thoughts filled their hearts.

[Sidenote: PRAYER OF THE REFORMED.]

This was not the only presage of the danger that threatened them; the
shouts of the catholics, increasing in violence, reached even there.
They looked at each other with astonishment and even with alarm. 'What
fury!' they said; 'how large a number against so few!' And some of them
added: 'If God be not for us, we are undone.' But others, changing the
words, answered: '_If God be for us, who can be against us?_' De la
Maisonneuve was the firmest. Possessing a quick and even violent temper,
an enthusiast for liberty and truth, he was at this solemn hour calm,
thoughtful, and christianlike. No one was more exposed than he: his
house was to be as it were the battle-field; but forgetful of self, he
went up to such as were dejected and said: 'We must show our
magnanimity, even should they drive us to despair. The wicked are
already erecting triumphal arches ... in the air. God does not look to
numbers, be they great or small, but to the cause for which they fight.
If we are under the banner of Jesus, God will be a wall of brass to us.'
These words encouraged such as were shaken, and gave joy to their
afflicted hearts; and scarcely had Baudichon uttered them than those who
stood round him fell on their knees and bowed before the Lord. One of
them prayed: 'O God, thou givest the rein to the wicked only so far as
is necessary to try us. Stop them, therefore, and restrain them, lest
they hurt us. Change the hearts of our enemies, and look only to the
cause for which we are going to fight.' This simple prayer availed more
than a _Salve Regina_. Rising from their knees, the friends of the
Reform stretched out their hands and said: 'We swear to die in God's
cause, and to keep faith and loyalty with one another.' And, like the
martyrs of the early ages, they waited for the blow with which they were
threatened, because they refused to abandon the Gospel which God was
then restoring to Christendom.

While the evangelicals were praying, the band so impatiently expected
from St. Gervais began to cross the bridge at last. The ex-syndic
Jean-Philippe, now captain-general, who inclined to the Reform from
political motives, being called by his office to repress all disorder,
had taken his post between the bridge and the city, near Baudichon's
house, and those who belonged to neither party had rallied round him.
Just as the corps from the suburb was debouching from the bridge and
entering the city, Philippe ordered them to return. At these words their
leader, Bellessert the butcher, furious at the attempt to stop him, flew
into a passion, and with horrible oaths struck the captain-general so
violently with his halberd that he fell to the ground. At the instant
Claude de Genève, and other citizens who followed Philippe, dashed
forward to meet the assailants; the captain sprang to his feet, and,
turning sword in hand upon the man who had struck him, wounded
Bellessert. At the same time, his followers, hitting right and left,
drove the St. Gervaisians back upon the bridge. The latter attempted in
vain to resume the offensive; Philippe's troop did not give them time to
breathe. Many had been wounded, and disorder was in their ranks; they
were too proud and violent to give way if they had not suffered much
loss. At last they fled and returned dejected to their houses.[676] The
captain's followers immediately closed the bridge gate to prevent the
people of the suburb from returning into the city.[677]

This measure exposed the reformed in St. Gervais to some danger. Aimé
Levet lived, as we have said, at the other end of the bridge. His wife,
distressed at the struggle and the wounds her brethren were about to
give and to receive, had gone out, imprudently perhaps, and standing in
the street, tried to discover what was going on. At this moment, the
catholic women of the quarter, inflamed by the sight of their idol
Bellessert's wounds, and determined not to be behind the women of the
city in warlike zeal, caught sight of Claudine Levet, to whom they
attributed all the mischief. With a loud cry they rushed upon her,
exclaiming: 'Let us begin the war by throwing this dog into the Rhone.'
Claudine, seeing the furies coming, uttered a shriek, and 'being
tricky,' according to Sister Jeanne, returned hastily into the house and
shut the door. It was certainly a very lawful _trick_. The catholic
women instantly moved to attack it: but much as they tried to break the
door down, they could not succeed. They then vented their fury on the
apothecary's drugs: at first they took what served for show, and then
entering the shop 'threw them all contemptuously into the street.'[678]
This expedition against the drugs did not calm them: leaving the shop
and standing in front of the house, they turned their angry eyes to
Claudine's windows and used insulting language. Madame Levet remained
calm in the midst of the uproar, and 'raised her thoughts to heaven,
where she found great matter of joy to blot out all her sorrows.' At
last the catholics retired, 'very wroth because they could not get at
this woman or any other.' Claudine was saved.[679]

[Sidenote: PLAN TO BURN OUT THE HUGUENOTS.]

While this was going on, the third band expected at the Molard, that
headed by Canon Veigy, had assembled in the upper part of the city. The
immobility of the reformers, who did not leave Baudichon's house,
fretted the canon and those whom he commanded. 'They keep themselves
still as hares,' he said: 'we must compel them to leave their form.'
This they prepared to do. It had been decided, as we have said, by Moine
and his friends, the chiefs of the movement, that they should surround
and set fire to Baudichon's house, so that the heretics should be
stifled, burnt, driven out, and dispersed. In the opinion of some it was
a capital idea of the huguenots to shut themselves up in one house, for
by this means a single match would suffice to get rid of them.... But
the plan of fire-raising was not to everybody's taste. 'It cannot be
done without great mischief,' said the wiser heads; 'the whole street
might be burnt down.'... The barbarous plan had, however, been resolved
on, and its execution entrusted to Canon Veigy's corps. It was a
churchman who had been charged with the cruel duty. 'Canon de Veigy was
to pass through the narrow street of the Trois Rois,[680] behind the
Rhone, set fire to Baudichon's house, and drive _the others_ into the
street, so that they could escape nowhere.'[681]

The canon's band was preparing to descend into the city to perform its
task, when some catholics, running to the hôtel-de-ville, announced the
defeat of the troops from St. Gervais. 'We may expect a similar
encounter,' said the canon and his subordinates; and being not at all
eager to measure weapons with the captain-general, they resolved to join
the crowd on the Molard, by passing to the east, in order to be out of
the reach of Philippe's attack, and to have a reinforcement to burn the
huguenots. Changing their direction, they descended by the Rue Verdaine.
When they arrived at the Molard, they were very ill received. Everybody
reproached them, calling them cowards and traitors. The priest-party
were 'greatly astonished and vexed because they had not set fire to the
house, as had been agreed upon.'[682]

[Sidenote: HUGUENOTS ON THE DEFENSIVE.]

The news of this scheme for burning them out had reached the citadel of
the reformed. Maisonneuve and his friends hesitated no longer. Thus far
they had responded to the fury of their adversaries by remaining quiet;
they desired as much as possible to spare the effusion of blood; but now
their moderation became useless. At first they had been only sixty,
their numbers had increased, but they were still inferior to their
adversaries: they determined, however, to repel force by force.[683]
They sallied forth, therefore, calm and silent, for they felt the
gravity of the moment. On arriving in the Rue des Allemands they drew up
in line of battle five deep, according to the Swiss practice. The front
rank was about 250 paces from the enemy. They were determined not to
take the offensive. 'We will wait for our adversaries,' they said; 'but
if they attack us, we will sooner die than retreat a single step.'

Although they were, as we have said, by no means numerous in comparison
with the several catholic bands, they were firm and full of hope. There
were neither priests, women, nor children with them to embarrass them:
all were stout, resolute, disciplined men, who feared not to fight one
against ten. They did not, however, place their confidence in their
strength; they did 'not turn from one side to the other to set their
hopes in vain things;' the most pious among them 'repeated that there
was not one spark of certain help for them except in God alone.'

The fight was about to begin. The reformed, knowing that the city
artillery had been surrendered by the Bossu to their adversaries and
pointed at the Molard, had procured some cannon, probably by the
intervention of the captain-general. The huguenots marching boldly on
two sides of the great square, had planted their guns—some in the Rue du
Rhone, others in the Rue du Marché, only ninety paces from the
catholics. On each side the artillery was ready to be discharged, the
arquebuses were loaded, the spears and halberds were in the hands of the
combatants, the women and children of the Romish party were bringing
stones. There were transports of anger, cries, and terrible
threats.[684] All were prepared for the onset, and a massacre seemed
inevitable.[685]

At this moment the sound of a trumpet was heard; it was not the signal
of battle, but the prelude: the city crier, stopping at the corner of
some neighbouring street, proclaimed, 'that every foreigner should
retire to his lodging under pain of three lashes with a rope.' In this
way they cleared the place where the battle was to be fought. The
trumpet and the crier's shrill voice soon died away, and there was a
deathlike silence. On each side there were noble souls, lovers of peace,
who were a prey to the deepest emotions at the thought that brothers
were about to attack brothers, and many turned a sorrowful look on the
streets that were soon to be stained with the blood of their
fellow-citizens. These compassionate men would have liked to restrain
the fratricidal arms, but they trembled before the priests. 'No one,'
says a contemporary, 'dared venture to speak to the ecclesiastics to
propose peace; the great pride of the priests intimidated them, and they
feared to be called Lutherans.'[686] To desire to prevent the shedding
of blood, was to be a partisan of the Reformation.[687] The parties cast
threatening glances at each other, and the two armies were about to come
into violent collision.

[Sidenote: PRAYERS AND TEARS.]

Then the agony burst forth. Some of the wives, mothers, and daughters,
who were in the Place du Molard, and who up to this moment had been full
of ardour for the combat, were moved and could not restrain their
anguish. The tenderness of their sex resumed its sway: they let go their
aprons, and the stones contained in them fell to the ground. They burst
into tears and gave utterance to long and sorrowful moaning. 'Alas!'
they said, 'the father is armed against the son, brother against
brother, neighbour against neighbour.... They are all ready to kill one
another.'[688] The emotion became almost universal.

Whilst many of the catholic women were thus transformed, the evangelical
women who remained at home were praying. They reflected that, however
the world may torment and vex, nothing can happen but what God Himself
has ordained. They put the immutable decree of the Lord, who wills to
maintain the kingdom of His Son for ever, in opposition to the wicked
conspiracies by which the men of the world assail it, and doubted not
that God would look upon and help them in their necessity.

'It was God's will,' said Froment, 'to avoid bloodshed, and He ordained
it accordingly.'[689]

[656] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 51.

[657] 'The standards of the king go forth.'—Rambach, _Anthologie
christliche Gesänge_, i. 104. The use Dante made of the first line of
this hymn is well known:

  Vexilla Regis prodeunt Inferni.—_Inferno_, xxxiv. 1.

[658] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 53.

[659] Ibid. Froment, _Gestes_, &c. p. 51.

[660] Council Registers, _ad diem_.—Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 51.
Gautier MS.

[661] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 51. The
number is probably exaggerated.

[662] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 52.—La Sœur J. de Jussie,
_Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 53.—Roset MS., liv. ii. ch. viii.

[663] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain_, &c. p. 53.

[664] Ibid. p. 57.

[665] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain_, &c. p. 57.

[666] Roset MS. _Chron._

[667] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain_, &c. p. 54.

[668] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 54.—La Sœur J. de Jussie,
_Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 54.—Roset MS., _Chron._ liv. ii.
ch. x.—Gautier MS.—Chonpard MS.

[669] Ibid.

[670] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain_, &c. p. 54.

[671] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, pp. 54,
55.—Gautier MS.

[672] 'Plebs mota syndicos codem traxit.'—Turretini manuscript in the
library at Berne.

[673] 'Civis cujusdam domus concursu facto petitur; jam tormenta majora
dirigebantur.'—Turretini MS.

[674] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, pp. 54,
55.—Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 50.—Gautier MS.

[675] Choupard MS.

[676] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 52.—Council Registers of the
28th March, 1534.—La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_,
p. 54.—Gautier MS.

[677] Ibid.

[678] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain_, &c. p. 57.

[679] Ibid.

[680] The Three Kings may still be seen carved over the gate of the
large house (called Trois Rois) in Bel Air.

[681] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 53.

[682] Choupard MS.—Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, pp. 52-54.—Gautier MS.

[683] 'Erumpunt qui convenerant a protestantibus, vim vi
repulsaturi.'—Turretini MS. at Berne.

[684] 'Clamor, saxa, minæ, furor.'—Turretini MS.

[685] Utrinque ad cædes in proximo.'—Ibid.

[686] Froment, _Gestes_, &c. p. 54.

[687] Ibid.

[688] Froment, _Gestes_, &c. p. 54.

[689] Ibid. p. 55.




 CHAPTER XVI.
 TRUCE BETWEEN THE TWO PARTIES.
 (FROM MARCH 28 TO MAY 4, 1533.)


Just at that time some foreigners were staying in Geneva, and
particularly seven merchants of Friburg, who had come for the fair. They
looked with sorrow on the spectacle around them, and could not
understand how citizens could go so far as to kill one another, 'to
satisfy the appetite of their priests,' says a manuscript.[690] These
worthy Switzers came forward to mediate. The chiefs of the catholic
party, not doubting that they were on their side, asked for their
support. 'We do not meddle in business of this kind,' wisely answered
the Friburgers, 'except it be to restore peace, since we are co-burghers
and good friends with you as well as with the others.' They proceeded to
the Rue des Allemands and said to the reformed: 'Look at the great
multitude of people that is against you. This matter must be settled
before worse befals you.' The reformed, who were ready for the battle,
made answer: 'The disturbance did not begin with us, and we should be
distressed to do anything to the disadvantage of the Council or of the
people. We only ask to be left at peace and to live according to God,
obeying the magistrates, as the Gospel commands. We are acting in
self-defence, for they have conspired to kill us. If so many priests and
monks remain assembled in the square, rest assured that we shall defend
ourselves to the last, if it please God to assist us. But we are not
pleased at having to fight against fathers, brothers, relations, friends
and neighbours to gratify the appetites of the priests and monks.'[691]

[Sidenote: MODERATION OF THE FRIBURGERS.]

The Friburgers, encouraged by these words, returned to the Molard and
addressing the priests, said: 'It is neither good nor honourable, and
above all it is not in accordance with your office, thus to excite the
people to kill one another. It is your duty to be in your houses or at
church praying to God rather than be thus in arms. When the people are
at variance, you should reconcile them instead of exciting them to shed
blood.' These were christian words, and the laymen delivered an
excellent exhortation to the clergy; but the latter were so enraged that
they would listen to nothing. After the pacific address of the
Friburgers, 'they showed themselves more heated than ever in their
desire that all should be killed.'

These worthy merchants, astounded at finding ecclesiastics so eager for
battle, thought that the laymen would be more moderate, and went off to
parley with the magistrates. 'If there is any bloodshed,' they said,
'all the blame will be laid on you. Do your duty: it is yours to
command; order the two parties to withdraw to their homes.' The honour
of the magistrates, who at heart desired peace, was touched, and they
resolved to put down the tumult. Turning to the priests, upon whom the
whole affair depended, they said to them before the people: 'You must
restore peace.' But the clergy would do nothing, and indeed excited the
people all the more to attack the Lutherans. The indignant Friburgers
determined to frighten them. 'We pray you, sirs, not to be so high,'
they said, 'for if it should come to fighting, we would rather be on
their side than on yours.... They are very different soldiers from you,
in better order and well-armed ... we have seen them.' Then pointing to
the listening people, they continued: 'Do you think, sir priests, that
the men here, who have their children, parents, and friends on the other
side, wish to kill them or to be killed by them for love of you?...
Indeed, we pray them to withdraw. And if after that you desire to attack
your enemies, think what you are about; perchance, you may not have the
opportunity of returning.'

The worthy Friburgers did not stop here; after speaking to the
magistrates and priests, they began to harangue the people. Approaching
the citizens, they spoke to them singly: 'You have sons, relations, and
friends on the huguenot side; do you want to kill them, or be killed by
them? We advise you to let the priests fight it out by themselves.'

Many highly approved of this remonstrance. 'We are very foolish,' they
said; 'why should we get killed for the priests?... Let them defend
themselves, if they like. Let them contend with Holy Scripture and not
with the sword.' Some whom reason could not convince were seized with
fear.[692] The good sense of the Friburgers dissipated the charm of
sacerdotal fanaticism. The natural affections, repressed for a moment,
resumed their power. 'Let the affair be arranged,' was the cry from all
quarters; 'Arbitrate, arbitrate.'

[Sidenote: A CONSULTATION.]

The magistrates, seeing the priests deserted, regained their courage.
There was not a moment to be lost. The council assembled in the middle
of the Molard, the ushers keeping off the crowd; the syndics were the
first to protest against the spilling of blood; many influential
councillors supported them, and the majority of the people seemed to
declare in favour of peace. Then the premier-syndic, Nicholas du Crest,
Claude Baud, and Pierre de Malbuisson, attended by several captains,
advanced to treat with De la Maisonneuve and his friends. The foremost
of the huguenots, seeing them approach, thought that the battle was
beginning, and one of them, a prompt and energetic man, arranging a
piece of artillery, began to take aim at the centre of the group, and
got ready to apply the match. 'The shot would have made a terrible
breach,' says Froment. This rapid movement alarmed those who were
approaching; on all sides they shouted out, 'Peace is made.' At these
words the gunner stopped, the soldiers drew back, the syndics came
forward on one side, Baudichon and his friends on the other, and the two
parties conferred together.[693]

Confidence was not yet restored. It was agreed to give hostages: three
notable men were given up on each side, and among the six was a canon
named Guet. Immediately the sound of the trumpet was heard in the city,
and the herald proclaimed: 'Every man shall lay down his arms and return
quietly home, without quarrel or dispute, under pain of being hanged;
and no one shall sing song or ballad, provoking to quarrel, under pain
of being whipped and banished.'

The most diverse opinions prevailed at that moment in the city. The
priests and fervent disciples of Rome could find no comfort. Wishing to
destroy the Reformation at any cost, they thought it very christian-like
to put the reformed to death. They were particularly envenomed against
the captain-general; some of them publicly called him a traitor. 'This
peace vexes the christians sorely,' writes Sister Jeanne; and
accordingly they were heard exclaiming: 'We ought now to _despatch them
from the world_, in order to be no more frightened or vexed on their
account.' 'To say the truth,' adds the devout nun, 'it would have been
better than letting them live.'[694]

But while some of the catholic leaders, as Wernli and Moine, returned
home gloomy and discontented, hoping that the business was merely
adjourned; others, both reformed and catholics, gladly recrossed the
thresholds of their homes, and were welcomed with tears of joy. Wives
embraced their husbands, the little children clung round their fathers,
while the elder ones took off their swords. The politicians smiled as
they witnessed the joy of some and the chagrin of others; they shook
their heads and thought that one party or the other would break the
truce as soon as they fancied it would be to their interest to do so.
'It is a sham peace,' they said.[695] But nothing could console certain
of the monks. 'Alas!' they muttered in their convents, 'the christians
would easily have discomfited and reduced the heretics to subjection,
and now these wicked ones will gain the supremacy in the city.'[696]

[Sidenote: PROJECT OF RECONCILIATION.]

On the following day (29th March) the council of sixty assembled 'to
settle the strife of the day before.' The tempest was not yet entirely
appeased; the catholic members of the council looked with threatening
eyes on the most notable of their colleagues, Jean Philippe, François
Faure, Claude Roset, and others. These were the men to be attacked, they
thought, for the strength of the anticlerical movement lay with them.
But for a time, reconciliation was all the fashion. They resolved to
frame a compromise which would satisfy both parties; and some of the
magistrates and principal citizens met to arrange a system for uniting
Rome and the Gospel.'[697]

The Two Hundred, who were joined by many other citizens, being assembled
on the 30th March, the premier-syndic first liberated the hostages and
then proposed the famous project of reconciliation. The council having
accepted it, he forwarded a copy to the captains of each company; and
turning to the Abbot of Bonmont, who pretty regularly discharged the
functions of bishop, considering the prelate's continual absence, the
chief magistrate said to him: 'Mr. Vicar, I shall give you also a copy
of this decree, in order that you may take care to make your priests
live properly.' All the laymen agreed that there lay the main
difficulty. The sitting broke up.

Each company was immediately drawn up on its Place d'Armes; the captain
stood in the centre: huguenots and mamelukes listened to this strange
decree which, regulating a religious matter, was ordered by the civil
authority and proclaimed by the soldiers.

[Sidenote: ARTICLES OF PEACE.]

'In the name of God, the Creator and Redeemer, Father, Son, and Holy
Ghost,' read the captain, and all bared their heads. 'In the interest of
peace, it is resolved,' continued the officer with sonorous voice, 'that
all anger, grudges, injuries, and ill-will between any soever of our
citizens and inhabitants, as well ecclesiastic as secular, and also all
battery, insult, and reproach, committed by one side or the other, be
wholly pardoned.'

The listeners appeared satisfied.

'_Item._ That every citizen, of what state or condition soever he may
be, live henceforward in peace, without attempting any novelty until it
be generally _ordered to live otherwise_.'—'Really, here is a reform,'
said the huguenots, 'but it is in the future.'

'_Item._ That no one speak against the holy Sacraments, and that in this
respect every one be _left at liberty according to his conscience_.'

Liberty and conscience! what strange words. If the people of Geneva
gained that, everything was gained.

'That no one,' continued the captain, 'preach without the license of the
superior, the syndics, and the council; and that _the preacher say
nothing that is not proved by Holy Scripture_.'

No article caused greater satisfaction. 'Good,' said some of the
reformed, 'our doctrine is that of Holy Scripture.'—'Good,' said some of
the catholics, 'the superior will contrive that no heretic preaches.'

The captain added the prohibition to eat meat on Friday, to sing songs
against one another, or to say 'You are a Lutheran,' 'You are a papist.'
Moreover he ordered the heads of families to inform their wives and
children of the decree. The catholic ladies and their boys had been
sufficiently forward at the time of the battle not to be forgotten.

The captain having finished said to his company: 'Let those who desire
peace and love hold up their hands and make oath before God.'

The reformers, who obtained Holy Scripture and liberty of conscience,
held up their hands. The catholics seeing that the episcopal authority
and fast days were left them, did the same; but in one of the companies,
a huguenot who did not care for this mixture, said: 'I refuse!'—'To the
Rhone with him,' exclaimed the catholics immediately; 'to the Rhone.
Throw him into the Rhone without mercy, like a mad dog.'[698] Nobody,
however, was drowned, and next day there was a general procession
through the city to return thanks to God for the peace.

The catholics triumphed. Religious liberty and the Bible seemed such
strange things that they had nothing to fear from them. They learnt the
contrary afterwards; but at this time the words looked like a decoy,
that had no reality, merely intended to attract and catch the huguenots.
On Palm Sunday, a very learned dominican (as it was said) come from
Auxerre, was commissioned to preach the victory of Rome. The crowd was
so great that the convent church could not contain it. He was conducted
to the open space in front of the building, where he got up into a
pulpit that had been brought out for him. Standing proudly before his
congregation, the disciple of St. Dominic said: 'Here I am ready to
enter into the lists with these preachers. Let my lords of Berne send as
many as they like, I will undertake to confound them all.' He had a
copious flow of 'big words, to the great contempt of the Word of
God.'[699] The huguenots, scarcely able to contain themselves,
exclaimed: 'These canting knaves desire to blindfold the eyes of the
simple, so that they may not see the sun which has risen on us in his
brightness.'

The dominican continued hurling his thunderbolts without intermission,
then suddenly the assembly became disturbed. The women screamed, the men
were agitated ... it was believed that the huguenots were sallying from
the city (for the convent was in a suburb) and about to fall on the
congregation. 'Shut the gates' (of the city), cried some; and the devout
were still more frightened at this exclamation. Some drew their swords,
others their daggers, all got ready to defend themselves. The poor monk,
fancying the Lutherans were there already and about to put him to death,
grew frightened, turned pale ... 'and fell out of the pulpit in a
faint.' But no huguenots appeared. The congregation began to enquire
into the cause of the alarm, and discovered a young hare which had been
let loose among the people, and was running here and there between the
women's dresses. It was a trick played by some foolish jester. There was
a good deal of laughter in the city at the intrepid champions of Rome
who had so heroically drawn their daggers against a leveret.[700]

[Sidenote: THE LORD'S SUPPER.]

A ceremony of another kind, more serious and absorbing, was in
preparation. It was Passion-week, and the evangelicals felt the
necessity of meeting in a spirit of christian fraternity around the
Lord's table. On Holy Thursday (10th April) fourscore men and several
women assembled in the garden at the Pré l'Evêque. First, one of them
washed the feet of the others, in remembrance of the like act done by
our Lord. It was not an idle imitation with them: they understood
Christ's meaning: 'reminding them that no one should refuse to descend
to serve his brethren and equals, however low and abject the service
might be;' and they felt that 'if charity is abandoned, it is because
every one takes more than he wants, and despises almost all the others.'
After the washing of the feet, the holy sacrament was celebrated. These
energetic men humbled themselves like little children before God, and
approaching the table in sincere faith, many experienced that the
presence of the Redeemer, although spiritual, is real and strengthens
the inner man.

As soon as the news of this celebration became known, all the city spoke
of it, and sarcasms were not spared. 'These _Jews_,' they said, 'have
bitten one after another into a slice of bread and cheese, in token of
peace and union.... And thereupon the catholics laughed,' sister Jeanne
informs us.[701]

But the laughter was soon changed into fear. As they returned from the
Pré l'Evêque, several huguenots (and some of the most dreaded were among
them) walked through the streets together. A few silly gossips having
caught sight of them in the distance, reported everywhere that large
bodies of heretics were assembling in the squares and plotting to
prevent the celebration of the mass on Easter Sunday. It being Holy
Thursday, the communion was about to be administered in the churches;
but the women, terrified by the tales they heard, did not dare stir out.
The men grasped their arms; the priests and monks did the same; and both
pastors and flocks began to celebrate the supper of peace, protected by
breastplates, daggers, and clubs. All of them kept their ears on the
watch; they were agitated at the least noise; but no one came to disturb
them, and the communion passed off quietly.[702]

[Sidenote: CONVENIENT INTERPRETATIONS.]

'It will be on Good-Friday then,' said a few of the catholics; 'the
huguenots, it is well known, are preparing to make a demonstration that
day in the Dominicans' church, where the monk of Auxerre is to preach.'
To prevent such a mishap it was decided that the good father should
preach at St. Pierre's, 'the like of which had never been seen within
the memory of man, on such a day.' The canons believed themselves safe
in their cathedral, as in a fortress. For more security numerous bodies
of men patrolled the city; one of the chief catholics, M. de Thorens,
paraded proudly up and down surrounded by a troop of bravoes. On Friday
morning, priests and worshippers went armed to St. Pierre's. Some of the
reformed were astonished at seeing them under arms on such a day, and
reminded them of our Lord's words: _Put up thy sword in his sheath_.
That means, said the priests, 'that it must be kept close _until it is
time to draw it_.' Convenient interpretations are always to be found.

These good people were disquieted without a cause: there was not the
least disturbance, and the preacher of Auxerre said whatever he
pleased.[703] But he did not feel at ease in the city of the huguenots,
and Easter Day was no sooner past than he returned 'hastily into his own
country.' No one dared preach after his departure, which greatly
surprised devout catholics.[704]

The ordinance of the council had forwarded religious liberty in Geneva,
but it was little more than in theory; the practice was more difficult.
In the opinion of some, Geneva ought to be entirely reformed; in the
opinion of others, entirely catholic: men of decision asked 'how long
they would halt between two opinions?' and daring partisans repeated
that the sword alone could cut the difficult knot. The premier-syndic,
Nicholas du Crest, and councillor Roy started for Berne to pray the
senate not to support the Reform; while the evangelicals, on the other
hand, desired that it should be allowed to develope itself freely. Many
had a fervour of mind, a sincere hunger and thirst for righteousness;
their souls sought after eternal salvation; and they were as ambitious
of heavenly truth as conquerors are of glory and empire. The clergy, by
depriving them of their ministers, had reduced them to simple attempts
at mutual edification; but they desired the full preaching of the
Gospel, without which the Church pines away. 'We are suffering from
want,' they said; 'we are deprived of our rights. A bold monk is
perpetually shouting that he is prepared to confound all the ministers
that Berne is willing to send us.... Well then, let us ask Berne for
ministers whose learning and eloquence may reduce these insolent and
prating Dominicans to silence.'

[Sidenote: EMBASSY TO BERNE.]

The journey of Syndic du Crest disquieted Maisonneuve. Who can tell but
the respect due to the chief magistrate of the republic may induce the
powerful canton of Berne to take a false step?... He will endeavour to
prevent so great a misfortune. He communicated his intentions to the
faithful Salomon, who being full of confidence in his friend, departed
with him immediately on this perilous journey.[705]

Du Crest and Councillor Roy, arriving at Berne on the 6th April, fancied
one day they saw Maisonneuve and Salomon in the street. They stopped in
surprise, eyed them both from head to foot, and looked as if
petrified.... It was really the two huguenots. The premier-syndic was
exasperated, and going up to them, asked rudely, 'What are you doing
here?' 'We are told that you have instructions to speak against us,'
answered Maisonneuve: 'we are here to defend ourselves.' The next day,
when the two magistrates went to the council, they were still more
surprised to find the two reformed leaders in the outer hall. They hoped
at least to enter the council-room alone; but no! the door was hardly
open when the two huguenots went forward unceremoniously with the two
magistrates, and sat down quietly at their left. Was there then a second
power in Geneva, which also sent its ambassadors?

Maisonneuve was in reality an ambassador; his heart burnt for a great
cause—that of the Gospel and of the new times. The truth which he
represented filled him with courage: he rose first, even before the
Genevan magistrate had spoken, and said with holy boldness: 'Most
honoured lords, we and a great number of our fellow-citizens desire the
pure Word of God to be preached in Geneva. The voice of the Gospel, so
little heard in times of yore, is now resounding throughout Christendom,
and we do not wish to give up hearing it. Neither banishment nor threats
can reduce us to carelessness and inactivity.' And then without fearing
the premier-syndic, who was listening, he continued: 'My lords, do you
know to what extremity we are reduced? Our magistrates are making war
upon us, and trying to drive from Geneva that Gospel which you have
established in Berne. After the visit we paid you recently, they
summoned us before them.... And this Nicholas du Crest here present has
trampled our liberties under foot and spoken to us as if we were
thieves.... Instead of answering your letters they went from house to
house exhorting their partisans to take up arms. They rang the tocsin;
gathered together the canons, priests, and common people; and contrived
a wicked and bloody conspiracy.... And why, my lords? We must (they
said) cut off the heads of those who went to Berne.... Behold, most
honoured lords, the value they attach to your citizenship!... O
liberties of Geneva! O alliance of the League! O justice of the laws!...
Everything is trodden under foot by priests determined to leave us for
our inheritance nothing but slavery and superstition, tears, sighs, and
groans.... A remedy must be applied, and you alone can do it, most
honoured lords. A fanatical monk, who preaches against pure religion,
has offered to enter the lists against every minister of the Gospel you
may send us.... Do what he asks.... Grant to us and our brethren one of
your preachers. Obtain for him a public place where he may freely
declare the Word of God. Let him combat with this dominican in a
properly regulated discussion, and thus ensure the triumph of the
Gospel.'

Maisonneuve knew the risk he incurred by speaking with so much
frankness, and he therefore added: 'Perhaps you will also see that this
just request does not prevent our returning home and living there in
peace.'[706]

[Sidenote: THE ENVOY'S DISCOMFITURE.]

The syndic and the Genevan councillor, who had not expected such a
speech, were embarrassed. Having come as accusers, they found themselves
accused. The angry looks of the Bernese councillors disturbed the
magistrate of Geneva still more than the words of the protestant
ambassador. The avoyer, turning to the syndic, asked him whether he had
any answer to make. 'We have no orders on the subject, and, therefore,
have nothing to say,' was his reply. 'Well then,' said the lords of
Berne, 'we will send a deputation to Geneva shortly, to see what is
going on there with regard to religion.'[707]

The council rose. It seemed as if a favourable wind was about to blow on
the evangelical ship. But a storm was preparing, which might perhaps
dash it to pieces.

[690] Choupard MS. _Vie de Farel._

[691] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 57.

[692] Roset MS. _Chron._

[693] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 55.—Council Registers, 28th
March 1533.—Roset MS. _Chron._ liv. ii. ch. 10.

[694] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 56.—Council
Registers of 28th and 29th March.—Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 56.

[695] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 56.

[696] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, pp. 55-56.

[697] Council Registers, 29th March.

[698] Council Registers for the 30th March.—La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le
Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 59.—Gautier MS.

[699] Gautier MS. Extracted from the petition presented to Berne by
Maisonneuve and Salomon.

[700] Council Registers from 2nd to 11th April.—Gautier MS.—Spon,
_Hist. Eccl._ pp. 490-492.

[701] La Sœur J. de Jussieu, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 61.

[702] Ibid. p. 60.

[703] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain_, p. 60.

[704] Ibid. p. 61.

[705] Council Registers of the 2nd and 11th April. Gautier MS.—Spon,
_Hist. Eccles._ I. pp. 490-492.

[706] Requête de ceux de Genève.—Council Registers of 11th April,
1583.—Gautier MS.—Spon, _Hist. Eccles._, p. 491.

[707] Requête de ceux de Genève.—Council Registers of 11th April,
1533.—Gautier MS.




 CHAPTER XVII
 SECOND ATTACK, IN WHICH THE LEADER PERISHES.
 (MAY 4, 1533.)


The Reformation of Geneva numbered in its ranks the friends, not only of
evangelical truth, but of political liberty. There was both good and
evil in this. The vigorous hand of the huguenots may possibly have been
necessary to restrain the intrepid mamelukes; but it was to be regretted
that the arms of the flesh shone beside those of the spirit. If
reasoning by syllogism is bad in religious subjects, reasoning by the
pike is worse still. Some partisans of the Reform gave a new version of
the _Compel them to come in_ of the Romish Church, by practising a
little of the _Compel them to go out_. Both of them need a little
indulgence. The human mind having been kept in darkness for ten
centuries, required a lengthened education before it could understand
that it is unholy to employ in religion any other weapons than those of
free conviction.

[Sidenote: WAR OF THE TONGUE.]

There was another kind of hostility, pretty frequent in those times, and
more conformable to the manner of our days than swords and guns—the use
of ridicule. The Genevans of both schools usually began with legitimate
discussions, the catholics alleging the infallibility of the pope, and
the reformed opposing them with that of the Word of God. They debated on
this subject in the streets and in the convents, around the fire and
even in the council. But they often passed from discussion to ridicule.
One day, when the priests were walking in procession and singing aloud
the prayers for the conversion of heretics, some huguenots, standing at
the corner of a street, fancying a resemblance between their harsh
chants and the voice of a certain thick-skinned animal, said laughingly
to one another: 'Give some thistles to those noisy braying donkeys.'
'Alas!' exclaimed the nuns in their cloister, 'they make so many jests
that you could not write them down in a year!' It is Sister Jeanne who
records this fact, but her narrative is so full of fables that we cannot
guarantee its authenticity.[708]

Most of the priests were stronger in arm than in mind, and preferred a
fight with swords to one with words. That devout canon and valiant
knight Messire Pierre Wernli was bursting with rage. He harangued in the
convents, in private houses, and even in the streets; he wished to fight
and prove, halberd in hand, that supreme respect was due to the papacy.
He held frequent conferences with the heads of the party, both lay and
ecclesiastic, at Percival de Pesmes', at M. de Thorens', or at the
vicar-episcopal's. All kept their eyes and ears open, determined to take
advantage of the first opportunity to secure the triumph of their cause.
They thought the time for action had come at last.

It was now the beginning of May, the date of the fair at Lyons, at that
time much frequented by the Genevans. Some of the principal huguenots
hesitated, however, to go there. It seemed difficult for them to leave
Geneva just at that moment, for all the indications of a storm were
visible in the sky. They believed, however, they should have time to
make the little journey before the crisis arrived. Some of the more
daring among them posted up bills with the words: 'Let us go to the fair
before the war and deliverance of Geneva.' They departed, and in certain
secret meetings it was said that the huguenots who remained behind ought
to be killed, and the gates shut against those who were away: thus the
religion of Geneva would be saved. But in the opinion of others, it was
proper that the pomps of religious worship should form a prelude to
these combats of the faith.

[Sidenote: HIGH MASS.]

Sunday, the 4th of May, was the feast of the Holy Windingsheet. The
linen cloth, in which the body of Jesus Christ was buried, and on which
(it was said) the print of his face had remained, was exhibited that day
in Geneva, and on other days in ten or twelve different cities which all
pretended to possess it. At the moment when the Reform was endeavouring
to restore Christ's true image to the Church, such as it is found in
Holy Scripture, the most ardent partisans of catholicism were found
exhibiting on a sheet the features, which sixteen centuries, as they
alleged, had not been able to efface. To give more importance to the
feast, the vicar-general entrusted the service to Pierre Wernli, who was
looked upon as one of the most important of the canons, and was at the
head of the most bellicose. The congregation was large. Great fervour,
internal emotion, and ardent prayers rendered the service that day more
than usually solemn. Wernli, who had put on his finest sacerdotal robes,
presided over the ceremony with religious enthusiasm and swelling pride.
He was fanatical but sincere. His motto was: 'Everything for the honour
of God and holy Church.' Convinced of the efficacy of the sacrifice of
the mass, he repeated the _introit_, chanted the offertory, consecrated
the host, and went through the elevation. The sympathetic accents that
rose from his heart resounded through the arches of the cathedral. 'What
a fine voice!' said some; 'what a fine man! There is not such another
officiater in the world, and we have not seen so fine a service in
Geneva for these ten years!'[709] After the mass of the Holy
Windingsheet, the catholics could not doubt of the approaching triumph
of the Church.

A new contest was about to begin. We do not forget the small extent of
the field of battle. We are not describing the destinies of the empire
of the Persians or the Romans, of the Russians or the Germans; but those
of a little city, surrounded by a narrow territory. Here, everything is
on a small scale; yet the combat of which we are about to speak led to
the return of the prince-bishop; and if the plans formed between that
ecclesiastical prince, the duke of Savoy, and the emperor himself had
been carried into execution at that moment, as everything seemed to
forebode, liberty and the Reformation would have perished in Geneva.
Would that loss have produced no effect? Are we mistaken in thinking
that the great battle which was to last during all the 16th century—a
battle which the Gospel and liberty fought against Rome, Jesuitism, and
the Inquisition, and which is undoubtedly the most important of modern
times—might not have had the same issue, if this little city, so full of
living faith and heroic courage, had not fought in the ranks, and
imparted to protestantism the vigour necessary to conquer formidable
enemies? When they hear of these petty struggles, many of the friends of
liberty and the Gospel perhaps may say: 'Let us not despise such little
things. It is we whom the narrative concerns. These people were the
first to fight for the precious gifts which we now enjoy in peace.'

Wernli did not intend to remain satisfied with a mass: he believed a
fight was necessary. He had hardly laid aside his robes, his cross, and
stole, when he thought of donning his armour: this was part of his
piety. He had no trouble in persuading his brethren, for the priests
were more zealous than the laymen in these disturbances.[710] The first
battle having proved a failure, they prepared for a second. In the
Reformation of Geneva facts play as important a part as ideas. The great
questions of rights, liberty, and truth were not elaborated simply in
the studies of a few lawyers or divines, but were discussed around the
hearths of burghers, at the meetings of evangelicals, and in the general
council of the citizens, and were decided in the streets in the midst of
formidable struggles. Ideas became acts; doctrines gave birth to events;
theories set men's hearts beating, armed their hands, and produced great
deliverances. There may have been some evil in this mighty activity, but
it was an unavoidable evil.

On the afternoon of the festival, Wernli and a great number of other
ecclesiastics met in council at the vicar-episcopal's. They bitterly
regretted that the good-nature of the Friburgers and the weakness of the
syndics had caused the failure of their plot. They had lost the game,
and must begin again. A project adjourned needs not on that account be
given up. The catholics should take advantage of the time when the
absence of the principal huguenots would make the victory easy.

[Sidenote: A HOLIDAY EVENING.]

During this discussion a few citizens of both parties were promenading
near the Rhone, apparently thinking only of taking a little recreation.
It was the evening of a holiday, and the setting sun poured its rays in
floods of flame upon the lake. The west was on fire, the water reflected
the image of the sky, and flashed with bright and flickering colours.
But the citizens thought little at this moment of the beauties of
nature. However great the apparent calm without, their souls were
agitated by fierce passions. By degrees they entered into conversation;
they spoke of religion, as was their custom; they debated with warmth,
then they began to dispute and to abuse each other, and finally hands
were raised and blows were struck.

The sun set; the brightness died away, all grew pale round the city, and
daylight was fading into darkness. The hour, so favourable for walking,
had attracted many abroad; the noise drew still more. Huguenots and
mamelukes, catholics and reformed, hurried to the Molard. 'What is the
matter?' they asked. The parties were already forming into two distinct
groups. Every one as he arrived joined his friends; they arranged
themselves in order, they soon counted their numbers, and two bands drew
up face to face. Some of the more impetuous went in front and excited
the crowd. The gaoler of the episcopal prisons and his brother, both
great brawlers, who handled the dagger cleverly, 'very riotous men'
(says a manuscript) thorough bravoes of the 16th century, were among the
most violent. Monks and priests of the lower rank mingled with the
people in the square, while their superiors were in consultation at the
vicar-episcopal's. They excited the crowd, and complained loudly that
the Friburgers had hindered them on the 28th March from destroying the
heretics, which, they held, would have been a necessary severity.

Meanwhile the two parties, though already face to face, apparently did
not think of coming to blows. One Pinet, sent by the clergy 'to apply
the match, began to work upon the people.' He glided from group to
group, and strove to inflame the minds of the catholics. 'Who will fight
along with me on behalf of his religion?' he said. Then turning towards
the huguenots, he challenged them, shouting out, with an oath: 'Your
creed is a rascally one, you Lutherans! If there is a man among you
willing to maintain the contrary, let him come here and fight.'[711]
This challenge was repeated several times, but the reformed feared a
disturbance. 'Peace has been made,' said they, 'do not break it.' Some
of them added: 'Be on your guard, Pinet is a sad scamp.' Nobody would
'take the bait.' One huguenot, however, the impatient Ami Perrin, could
not contain himself; provoked by the priests' agent, he rushed upon him
and nearly killed him. Both huguenots and catholics ran between them to
separate them. Peace was restored or at least seemed to be; but a spark
had been struck out, and the fire was about to be kindled.[712]

[Sidenote: MARIN DE VERSONAY.]

A young Catholic, Marin de Versonay, agitated by the scene which he had
just witnessed, left the square and hurried up the Rue du Perron.
Versonay was a man of narrow mind but ardent imagination, and
fanatically attached to the Romish Church, which he looked upon as the
sole and exclusive source of holiness and everlasting happiness.
Moreover he had an unbounded affection for his cousin Percival de
Pesmes, and the profoundest respect for the sovereignty of the bishop.
His ancestors had conferred great services upon Geneva. In 1476 his
grandfather Aymon, councillor to the bishop John Louis of Savoy, had
lent his plate to the city to quiet the Swiss, who threatened it with
pillage. The young nobleman wished to do for Geneva more than his
grandfather had done—he wished to destroy heresy. His wife, with whom
the priests were great friends, urged him on night and day.[713]

The members of the episcopal council, the canons and principal priests,
were all armed and waiting at Messire de Bonmont's house the issue of
this skirmish. At every noise they pricked up their ears, fancying they
heard the footsteps of a messenger; but none appeared, and everything
seemed to betoken that peace would not be disturbed. Pinet had withdrawn
in confusion, and Perrin, notwithstanding his natural impetuosity, knew
very well that the reformed did not wish to take the initiative and
break the public peace. Tranquillity was restored. A few citizens of
both parties still remained in the Molard, but many of the catholics and
huguenots had left, and to seal their concord had gone to drink
together, saying that they intended to remain friends. The match had
gone out.[714]

Young de Versonay and the impetuous canon were going to rekindle it. The
former, whose imagination had been excited, directed his steps to De
Bonmont's house. He knocked violently at the gate and shouted aloud:
'Help! help! they are killing all good christians!' At the sound of
these imprudent words the canons and priests caught fire; some remained
doubtful and motionless, but Pierre Wernli, 'that good knight,'
immediately sprang to his feet. The service he had celebrated in the
cathedral was hardly over, when he had thought of another, and said to
himself that this very day the Reformation must be buried in a
winding-sheet from which it should never rise again. Accordingly, after
taking off his sacerdotal robes, he had put on his breastplate and
cuishes, belted his sword to his side, seized his heavy halberd, and
thus armed,[715] had gone to the vicar-episcopal's. Immediately Wernli
heard Versonay's voice, he thought the hour was come. Standing in the
midst of the priests, and grasping his weapon, he invited his colleagues
by a glance to follow him. Many hesitated, and then, 'burning with love
of God,' says one of his greatest admirers, 'this good champion of the
faith, seeing that nobody got ready for the fight, lost patience, would
not wait for the other churchmen, and went out first with fiery
courage.'[716] The die was cast; the battle was about to begin, for no
one was able to stop the impetuous canon.

[Sidenote: THE TOCSIN SOUNDS.]

However, three other priests, less notable but quite as violent—Bertholet,
Manillier, and Servant—ran to St. Pierre's and ordered the ringers to
sound the tocsin loudly and hurriedly. These men, themselves alarmed at
what was told them about the riot, rang immediately, 'to the great
terror of Christians,' says sister Jeanne. Over all the city swelled the
majestic voice of _Clemence_, an ancient bell, well known at Geneva,
which bears this inscription on the rim:

  EGO VOCOR CLEMENTIA.
  AVE MARIA, GRATIA PLENA.
  PLEBEM VOCO, CONVOCO CLERUM,
  VOX MEA CUNCTORUM
  FIT TERROR DEMONIORUM.

In truth Clemence at this moment 'was calling the people and
convoking the clergy,' and as for the 'demons, whom her voice was to
affright,' ... they were the reformed—at least in the eyes of the
priests. The huguenots who remained in the Molard, thought that the
papists meditated returning to the attack and killing them in their
houses. The darkness increased the agitation caused by the dismal sounds
from the belfry. 'What is the matter?' said the citizens. 'The heretics
are assembling in the principal square to plunder the churches,'
answered some of the catholics. 'Let us rally on the other side, in
front of the stalls,' was the reply. Some said truly that it was a false
alarm; that the huguenots had gone to the river bank simply for a walk,
as is everywhere customary on a Sunday evening, and that they were
already returning home; but the more violent would listen to nothing;
they hurried from all quarters, summoned by the tocsin, and displayed
their banners. On the side of the stalls they shouted with all their
might: 'Rally here, all Christians, and be of good heart in defence of
holy faith.' And great was the tumult among them. It was quite pitiful
to hear their cries in the streets.[717] The other churchmen, who at the
first moment had hesitated to follow the canon, took courage, and
leaving the vicar's house, descended to the Molard.

In the priests' eyes it was a decisive moment. A great number of them,
no doubt, thought only of their personal interests, but many believed
that the issue of the struggle was a question of life or death for
catholicism in Geneva. They shuddered when they saw those whom they
termed unnatural children, turning away from the bosom of their mother's
breast—the papacy. 'These curious and rebellious minds,' they said,
'imagine that they will overthrow the Church ... but the gates of hell
shall not prevail against it.... O bride of Christ! thou who procurest
for us the chaste and everlasting embraces (_castos æternosque
amplexus_) of the divine Spouse, we are thine for ever!'

[Sidenote: WERNLI'S APPEAL.]

Wernli had made up his mind to give his life, if necessary, for the
cause of Rome. This was not with him the hasty resolution of a moment.
Seeing the progress of the Reformation, he had vowed to sacrifice
everything for its destruction, and it was with this intention he now
descended from the neighbourhood of St. Pierre's to the Molard. It was
necessary to accomplish on the 4th May what the 28th March had been
unable to do. 'Wernli desired to be the first,' says Froment, 'to
support as a man of war the holy mother Church.' He was both the hero
and the victim of this important day. Vainly did the people shout to him
on every side that 'Peace was made;' ... he would hear nothing. 'He was
the most obstinate and the maddest of the priests.'[718] Full of venom
and devotion for the cause of popery, he exclaimed: 'Ho! all good
christians to my aid.' Many laymen and clerks joined him, and they
proceeded hurriedly towards the square. 'The canons and other churchmen
were the first under the flag,' says Sister Jeanne. In a short time
fifteen hundred men, 'many of them priests,' were assembled.[719]

During this time, other ecclesiastics were gathering in arms in the
court of St. Pierre, so as to stop the huguenots who might desire to go
to the scene of the tumult. Three reformers, coming from the Bourg du
Four, soon arrived with hasty steps in front of the cathedral. The
sacerdotal corps immediately barred the way, and the priests began to
attack them. One of them was 'unfortunate enough to receive
_twenty-eight_ wounds at their hands, and fell to the ground.' As for
the other two, 'the dogs took flight,' says the bulletin of St.
Claire.[720]

[Sidenote: WERNLI HEADS THE FIGHT.]

At this moment Wernli and his followers reached the Molard. The night
was dark, the stars above gave a faint light; men appeared like shadows,
and it was hard to distinguish friends from foes. Obscure and confused
noises, inarticulate sounds, marks of approbation or of anger, issued
from the darkness. It was like the hoarse roaring of the sea before the
storm bursts forth. For a few seconds there was a dead silence, then on
a sudden loud shouting. When the canon arrived, armed from head to foot,
he heard the cries of the reformers, and, stirred with anger, he
flourished his halberd, and pointing it in their direction, shouted out
in his Friburg patois: 'Dear God! where are these Lutherans who speak
ill of our law?... God's blood! where are they?'[721] With a coarse
oath, he turned round to his followers, and said, 'Courage, good
christians! do not spare those rascals.' One might fancy him the giant
Goliath, who, with a helmet of brass upon his head, and armed with a
coat of mail, came forth, spear in hand, to defy the army of
Israel.[722]

The warlike canon had hardly given the signal when the combat began. It
was a fine spring night, everything was pale and grey; it was, as we
have said, easy to make mistakes; the silence and obscurity imparted a
certain solemnity to the struggle. The shadows moving about the Molard
became agitated; they rushed upon each other, and dealt frequent blows
in the darkness. One shadow ran after another, but on both sides they
fought desperately and at close quarters. From time to time there was a
brief gleam; sword met sword, and flashed fire. The violent Perrin and
the zealous Claude Bernard were at the head of the huguenots, and struck
stoutly. Among the catholics, John Rosetti and Canon Viole were those
who rushed with greatest fury upon their adversaries. All four fell
wounded on the spot. Others besides them were hit, and their blood
flowed; but they were not noticed, and the combatants trampled the
wounded under foot, until their friends, recognising them, carried them
to some neighbouring house. A blow more famous than all was about to be
struck; a victim more notable was about to bite the dust.

Wernli, who had remained at the top of the square, unable to see his
enemies, was challenging them with all the strength of his lungs. 'Where
are they?' he kept on shouting and swearing; 'Where are these Lutherans
who speak ill of our law?' Some huguenots who were not in the square,
but in the Rue de la Croix d'Or (all the adjoining streets were full of
catholics and reformers), answered him, 'They are here.' The canon, who
could not see, but who could hear, rushed halberd in hand in the
direction whence the reply came. He reached his enemies, striking them
with the head and the butt of his weapon, which he handled as easily as
his breviary. By killing Lutherans he hoped to kill Lutheranism itself.

The huguenots whom he had attacked did not remain idle, but parried the
priest's blows with their naked swords. At last one of them, whom the
long and pointed blade provoked, sprang forward, caught hold of the
halberd, broke it in two and flung the pieces away. The hero of the
clergy, finding himself deprived of his favourite weapon, lost not a
moment; he drew his two-handed sword and rushed upon his adversaries,
cutting and thrusting like a Switzer of Grandson. The huguenots, finding
themselves so vigorously attacked, no longer stood upon the defensive;
they fell upon the champion of the papacy. 'They charged him,' says
Sister Jeanne, who adds, 'but he defended himself valiantly.' His
breastplate protected his body from the neck to the waist, so that all
the blows aimed at him glanced off, 'so completely and cunningly was he
armed.'[723] At last a man named Pierre l'Hoste, as is believed, a poor
carman, impatient at the long struggle, looking upon Wernli as a soldier
and not a priest, approached him, and, moving round him in search of the
weak point in his armour, plunged his sword into his body. The canon
staggered and fell. 'Thus was the blasphemer killed, and he lay in the
square without moving hand or foot.'[724] The struggle occurred in front
of the house of Councillor Chautemps, one of the most zealous of the
evangelicals. Wernli fell on the steps. _They that take the sword shall
perish with the sword._[725] Some priests who were near, seeing their
captain fall, fled each to his convent or to the cloister of St.
Pierre.[726]

[Sidenote: DEATH OF THE CANON.]

The death of the general did not, however, put an end to the fight.
Priests with their partisans, and huguenots, were still exchanging blows
when the syndic of the guard, the head of the military department,
arrived. He raised his official bâton and ordered the citizens to return
to their houses. De Chapeaurouge, commander of the cavalry, zealously
assisted him. 'Stop!' they both exclaimed. All their calling was
useless, so great was the popular emotion, and so inflamed was their
courage, says the chronicle. The syndic, advancing into the midst of the
combatants, conjured them to separate; but he received a blow on the
head from the hands of a priest.[727] What the canon's death had not
been able to do, the magistrate's wound accomplished. This incident put
an end to the contest. The reformed, full of respect for the syndic,
sheathed their swords and withdrew to their homes.

Some priests, however, with a few of their partisans, refused to obey.
They were unwilling to fail this time, and did not intend that their
project should come to nothing. They were determined to bury the Reform.
Exasperated bands paraded the streets, challenging and insulting the
huguenots, who refused to chastise the braggart priests. Even this
forbearance did not appease the fanatics; they continued their
provocations until daybreak. 'All night the christians were under arms,'
says Sister Jeanne, 'seeking those wicked dogs; but it was of no good,
for they were all hidden!'[728] When daylight began to appear, the
clergy and their allies, fatigued with the tumultuous night, went off to
bed, and thus ended their second attack. Now they will try to obtain by
intrigue and terror, what arms have failed to procure them.

[708] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 62.

[709] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain_, p. 63.

[710] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 55.—Gautier MS.

[711] Froment, _Gestes_, p. 57.

[712] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 57.—La Sœur J. de Jussie,
_Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 61.

[713] Contemporary MS.—Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 58.

[714] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 57.—La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le
Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 61.—Galiffe, _Notices généalogiques_, I. p. 48.

[715] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain_, &c. p. 62.

[716] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain_, pp. 61-62.

[717] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain_, pp. 67-68.

[718] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 58.

[719] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p.
61.—Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, pp. 57-58.

[720] 'Ces chiens prirent la fuite.'—_Le Levain du Calvinisme_,
p. 63. Gautier MS. Council Registers of May 11.

[721] 'Char Dey, o sont tey ces toux Luthérians..... Sang Dey, o son
tey?'—Choupard MS. Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 58.

[722] 1 Samuel xvii.

[723] La Sœur J. de Jussie, p. 63.

[724] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 59.

[725] St. Matthew xxvi. 52.

[726] Choupard MS.—Roset MS. _Chron._ liv. ii. ch. xvi.

[727] Choupard MS.—Roset MS.—_Chron._ liv. ii. ch. xvi.

[728] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p.
63.—Council Registers of the 4th and 23rd May.




 CHAPTER XVIII.
 THE CANON'S DEATH MADE A WEAPON AGAINST THE REFORM.
 (MAY TO JULY 1533.)


Wernli's death was to be fruitful in serious consequences. The priests
were about to show what the violent death of an ecclesiastic might mean,
and the terrible consequences it carries with it. To sacrifice the
liberties of Geneva and the evangelical Reformation on his tomb, was, in
their opinion, the only offering that could appease heaven.

Next morning at sunrise, a few citizens left their houses and proceeded
towards the field of battle. They perceived a man, dressed like a
warrior, lying on the steps of a house; a great sword lay a few
paces off. They approached, stooped down and touched him ... he was stark
dead ... it was the canon, Messire Pierre Wernli. His body had lain all
night in the street, unobserved by every one. As Councillor Chautemps, a
peaceable man, had remained indoors, the body had not been perceived.
The cuirass bore the marks of the blows received by the champion of the
priests. His garments were bloody and his features still wore a fierce
look. Those who gazed upon him were moved. A canon, a chief of the
Church, he who the day before had officiated with so much state at St.
Pierre's, surrounded by all the pomps of the service, had been struck
down by the huguenots ... and there he lay dead. Some ran off to spread
the news: 'Messire Pierre lies bathed in blood near the Molard.' Canons
and priests, monks and mamelukes, and even the huguenots, ran out and
surrounded the dead body. 'All the city was troubled when they found the
corpse.'[729] The devout knelt down, and striking their breasts,
exclaimed with tears: 'O blessed martyr, sacrificed to God!' According
to some good catholics, he took his place in the ranks of the confessors
who, like Thomas à Becket, had been put to death for honouring the holy
Roman Church. This species of canonisation disgusted the huguenots:
'What!' they said, 'a priest fights with the halberd and sheds the blood
of citizens—he turns soldier, and you make him a saint! Rather recognise
in his death the just judgment of God.'[730] At that moment, there came
up a woman of mean appearance, who fell shrieking on the body. She
pressed it in her arms, with many sighs and groans. She was the canon's
housekeeper, they said; but the manuscript which records this incident
gives her a more significant name.[731]

This death was a great event, and the members of the council felt the
liveliest apprehensions. Wernli was not only a canon, but a Friburger,
and belonged to a powerful family. What would not be the wrath of his
fellow-citizens! 'Had we known of this murder last evening,' said the
mamelukes, 'the sword would have taken vengeance on Messire Pierre's
assassins, and the night would have been a night of terror and death.'
Their rage would have been so great that they would have entered every
house and made a general massacre. But the abler men of the party made
less noise, and thought of the advantage they might derive from the
catastrophe. The most extreme measures now became legitimate, and the
canon's death was to result in the triumph of the pope. Even now, a few
catholics assembling round the corpse, traded upon the scene, and
uncovering Wernli's wounds, pointed them out to the people, and thus
sought to arouse their anger. Others succeeded in preventing the gates
from being opened, lest the huguenots who had crossed swords with the
canon should escape. When the reformed learnt that the city was closed,
although it was broad daylight, they asked if it was intended to murder
them, and some immediately armed themselves and went to Baudichon de la
Maisonneuve's house.[732]

[Sidenote: BURYING THE DEAD.]

About nine o'clock the body was lifted up and carried into Chautemp's
house, where it was placed decently on a bed. The cuirass was taken off,
the stains of blood washed away; it was arrayed in the priest's
canonical robes, and the devout folks knelt around it. Every moment
other catholics, men and women, took the places of those who left. The
same day, at five in the afternoon, an immense procession descended from
St. Pierre's to do honour to this 'blessed martyr.' The priests placed
the canon on a showy bier, and when they came out of the house, 'the
people uttered a loud cry.'[733] Some of the reformed joined in the
funeral train; all enmity (they thought) should perish in the presence
of the dead. The body was taken into the cathedral, and buried at the
foot of the great crucifix. The council, wishing to hold the balance
even, imprisoned a few men who passed for the most violent of both
parties.[734]

[Sidenote: WERNLI'S RELATIONS ARRIVE.]

Five days later, a herald from Friburg and many of Wernli's relatives
appeared in deep mourning, and demanded that the body should be given up
to them; they also called for signal reparation. At five o'clock the
same day, the body was exhumed in the presence of an immense crowd, and,
wonder unheard-of! the canon stood upright, and the blood flowed from
his wound as fresh as if he had been alive. 'Of a truth,' said those in
the cathedral, 'this is a miracle, a testimony borne to the holy Roman
faith, for the maintenance of which his body was mangled. His blood
cries for revenge.'[735]

But the reformed said that popery is full of such cheats (_piperies_)
and idle dreams, opposed to common sense, by means of which impostors
deceive the simple. They believed that when the Son of God became man,
many signs of divine power had accompanied that great miracle; and that
if the sun acts upon the earth, and transforms a poor grain of wheat
into a magnificent ear of corn, it is very reasonable to admit that he
who created the sun exercises his sovereign action here whenever he
wills it, and effects transformations still more marvellous; but they
would not suffer the tricks of men to be placed in the same rank with
the interventions of the supreme power of the Creator. The miracle
having been confirmed by _eight hundred witnesses_, says Sister Jeanne,
the body was laid in a coffin and carried to the lake, all the priests
singing, while the women and some of the devout made the air re-echo
with their cries and groans. The coffin was placed in a boat and taken
to Friburg.[736]

[Sidenote: THE REFORM MUST BE CRUSHED.]

The priests thought the moment had now come for getting rid of the
evangelicals for ever. At first, the reform had been a mere thread of
water, but the thread had suddenly increased, and become like an Alpine
torrent, which, if it were not checked, would overthrow the altars and
sweep away crosses, images and holy water, priests and prelates. Had not
an illustrious canon been attacked and carried away by this devastating
flood? 'Now,' said the priests, 'must be accomplished what our Lord told
the apostles: He that hath no sword, let him sell his garment and buy
one. If we do not crush these accursed Lutherans now, they will never
cease to trouble the churches, to plunder, beat and kill.... Let us sell
everything, even our wallets, to procure spears and swords.'[737] They
set the example; they never went out except well supplied with arms
under their frocks. The sisters of St. Claire and all the devout women
of Geneva exclaimed with delight on seeing the clergy so resolved: 'Ah,
if the clerks were not so stout-hearted, these ravening wolves would
exterminate us.'[738] But the more reasonable of the men saw that the
clubs of the priests would not suffice alone. 'The hour is come,' said
they at Geneva and Friburg, at Chambery, and wherever Rome had faithful
followers; 'the bishop must return to Geneva, and resume his former
authority.' A deputation started from Friburg for Arbois to entreat
Pierre de la Baume to return to his episcopal city.

[Sidenote: THE BISHOP AT ARBOIS.]

Since the death of Besançon Hugues, the bishop had taken no steps to
recover his power. Wounded by what had occurred in his principality, he
kept his vexation to himself, made up his mind to remain quiet, and
sought consolation at Arbois in good living. 'I have received your
capons,' he wrote, 'send me some fish. I have been enjoying myself, and
am much better supplied with provisions here than at Geneva.' He was at
heart neither wicked nor cruel; he had taste, education, and talent, and
his conversation abounded in wit. But he had two passions—the table and
money, besides a weak and selfish temper which made him incline one time
to the duke, another to Geneva, and appear servile or tyrannical
according as he hoped to obtain anything by baseness or by despotism.
The Genevans, and particularly the huguenots, knew him well. 'He wants
to ride _one_ and lead the _other_,' said Robert Vandel, 'and does
nothing except for his own advantage.'

When the Friburgers arrived at Arbois, they drew him from his stupid
tranquillity, disturbed his feasting, and firmly represented to him that
they wanted to know whether he desired to maintain catholicism in
Geneva, or to let it perish. They even attacked him with personal
arguments, which they knew must have great force for him. 'Return to
your city, my lord,' they said, 'to recover your lost authority, and
protect your threatened rents.' But La Baume was too timid, and would
willingly have lived anywhere except in his own diocese and
principality. He defended his absenteeism in a singular manner. 'Many of
these heretics have uttered great threats against me,' he said; 'they
will kill me like poor Wernli.'[739] A mightier voice than that of
Friburg now made itself heard.

The condition of Geneva was known in all catholic countries. Men were
uneasy everywhere; even Pope Clement VII. felt anxious. He did not
admire those ecclesiastics who, following the example of Leo X.,
neglected business for pleasure. In some places the catholics imagined
that if the Reform were crushed in Geneva, the recoil would act on the
Reformation in general; that the other protestant nations would feel its
effects, and that such a defeat would be the beginning of the end.
Representations to this effect reached the pope from every side, and he,
being a skilful politician and having the saving of the Roman court at
heart, wrote to the bishop: 'I command you to proceed to Geneva
immediately you receive this bull, under pain of excommunication. Is it
not singular that you pass your life in a foreign province as if you
were not the pastor of that city? You, by your absence, are the cause of
all the misfortunes with which it is afflicted.... Go, speak, act ...
defend the flock which Jesus Christ and the holy see have entrusted to
you, and rescue your sheep from the ravening wolf that is preparing to
devour them.'[740]

The poor bishop, when he read the bull, was seized with the most violent
emotion. He saw himself between two dangers almost equally great: the
pope who threatened him with excommunication, and the huguenots who
threatened him with death. What was to be done? He was urged on both
sides. At last he formed an heroic decision and determined to obey the
pope. He will leave Arbois and the pleasant life he had led there, with
all its earthly advantages, and go to that terrible city which appears
to him inhabited by wild beasts thirsting for his blood. 'Only you must
obtain a safe-conduct for me from Messieurs of Geneva,' he said to the
Friburg ambassadors, who were greatly surprised at having to ask a
safe-conduct for a prince who desired to visit his principality, for a
bishop who desired to enter his diocese. However, they promised
everything.

[Sidenote: THE BISHOP INVITED TO RETURN.]

Wernli's death had not only enraged the enemies of the Reformation, but
had weakened its friends and occasioned a reaction in Geneva favourable
to catholicism. The syndics and council now leant decidedly that way,
and the return of the bishop seemed to them the only means of restoring
order. 'The bishop does not need a safe-conduct,' they said; 'only let
him come. If anybody threatens him, we will punish him so severely, that
Monseigneur shall have cause to be satisfied.'—'Let him come back, let
him come back,' was the general cry except among the pious evangelicals
and the proud huguenots. The emancipation had hardly begun, when a
strong counter-revolution threatened to stifle it. On the 26th May the
council elected Domaine Franc, Stephen d'Adda, and Bon Officher to go
and humbly urge their bishop and prince to return. Thus Geneva herself
was preparing to bury its Reformation and its liberty.

Other Genevans had arrived at Arbois before the deputies from the
council. The principal mameluke chiefs, whether banished or emigrant,
who found the bread of exile bitter, had started for Arbois as soon as
they had heard of the canon's death. Full of that exasperation and
agitated by those dreams which self-exiled and banished men ordinarily
have, they endeavoured to make the bishop share their hopes and hatred.
'Nothing is juster and easier,' they said, 'than to put the leading
huguenots into prison, on suspicion of being concerned in the attack
upon Wernli. They will be executed, or if the people oppose, they can be
transported suddenly to some castle in Savoy, as Lévrier was formerly,
and then we can do our pleasure on them. After that nothing will be able
to disturb the holy union of Geneva with Savoy and the pope.' But Pierre
de la Baume had already recovered a little from the heroic resolution he
had formed after reading the papal brief. The violent language of the
mamelukes aroused all his terrors. 'The Genevans,' he said, 'are proud,
independent, and fond of tumult; at the least word that displeases them,
they fly to arms. No ... afraid as I am, I dare not go to Geneva.' 'Do
not fear, we will accompany you,' answered the mamelukes. 'The
Friburgers on their part will provide you with a guard; the Genevan
catholics, who are ten to one, will do the same; the duke is resolved to
support you.... It is impossible that we should not crush the rebels.'
The calculation was correct and the argument unanswerable. Pierre de la
Baume, finding himself summoned by the pope, and surrounded with spears
and spearmen, horses and chariots, again resumed an heroic courage, and
almost made up his mind to appear in the city of the huguenots.

Just at this moment the Genevan deputies arrived, and the bishop-prince
showed at first a very courteous humour, and replied with an amiable air
that he would return to Geneva _in a month_. Always uneasy, he still
tried to procrastinate. So many things may happen in a month—perhaps,
finally, he may never return to his episcopal city. 'I regard you as my
well-beloved subjects,' he said, 'and desire to appear as your true and
good prince.' Stephen d'Adda, a decided member of the opposition, placed
but little trust in these fine words. In reality they were playing a
little comedy at the priory of Arbois: the bishop was afraid to go, and
one or two of the deputies preferred that he should not come.[741]

[Sidenote: A COUP D'ÉTAT NECESSARY.]

Will he go or not? No one could tell. There were certain moments when La
Baume felt inclined to cross the Jura, and then all of a sudden he felt
as if _nailed_ to his priory of Arbois. Never was it more difficult to
arrive at a decision—it was like a nightmare. His friends began to
deliberate; they quite agreed with him that if he desired simply to
re-establish his residence in the episcopal city, it would be better for
him not to go there at all. He would always have to begin again with the
independence of the huguenots and the heresy of the reformed, with
alarms and riots. The evil would even be worse than before, for the
cause of liberty and reform had made great progress since the bishop had
left Geneva. He is compelled, therefore, to gain two victories if he
returns: first, he must trample under foot the franchises of the people
and get rid of the huguenots; and, second, he must silence the
evangelical teaching and expel the reformers and their adherents. The
prince-bishop and his imprudent advisers were convinced that a _coup
d'état_, and (if we may use the term) a _coup d'église_, were the only
remedies for the critical and almost desperate position of affairs.
Geneva was to go back to the superstitions and servility of the middle
ages. It was necessary to extinguish the double torch of political
independence and christian truth which a divine hand had kindled, and so
put Christendom beyond the reach of these treacherous lights. But the
timid La Baume shrank with alarm from such a herculean task; he knew his
own weakness, and felt the enterprise would be too arduous for him.

Meantime the Friburg ambassadors in Geneva were preparing the way for
him. They demanded aloud, what he proposed to do in secret. Being
admitted to the Council on the 23rd May, they said: 'We accuse all who
were in the Molard at the time of Wernli's death, including the syndic
of the guard and the commander of the cavalry.' They spoke haughtily,
and required immediate satisfaction. A whole section of the
population—the most innocent in this affair, even the party which had
been attacked—was to be criminally prosecuted! It was a monstrous
demand. However, the Friburgers spoke loud, and many of the huguenots
were dejected. The Council, being divided and intimidated, made answer
at last that they would authorise the lieutenant and the
procurator-fiscal 'to arrest all whom Messieurs of Friburg accused.'
Thus the plot was in a fair way: liberty and Reform had, however, a
moment's respite.[742]

[Sidenote: DECLARATION OF RELIGIOUS LIBERTY.]

Two ambassadors from Berne, Councillor Sebastian de Diesbach and
Banneret John de Weingarten, arrived at Geneva, and had conferences with
the men of both parties. Their ideas gradually became clearer, and truth
sprang out of the conflict of opinions. They saw that this position of
affairs, which seemed an inextricable chaos, had one possible solution,
namely, liberty. 'We have seen and heard everything,' said Diesbach;
'the only means of enjoying peace is to _permit every one to follow the
movements of his conscience, so that no one be constrained_.[743] Let
the mass and feast-days and images remain for those who like them; but
let the preaching of the Gospel be granted to those who desire it, and
let one of the seven parish churches be assigned them for that purpose.
Let no one be ridiculed for going to mass. _Let every one abide in his
own free-will and choice._[744]... Moreover, as the Old and New
Testaments are the foundation of our faith, and as those who follow the
Gospel cannot exist without reading them, let the booksellers be
permitted to sell publicly the Holy Scriptures and any other books of
piety.' Thus 'liberty for all' was the great salutary principle then
proclaimed in Geneva. This theory, which gives honour to God and
independence to man, was not generally admitted until two or three
hundred years later. But we take note of the epoch when the right was
first proclaimed. It is sometimes asserted that the idea of liberty for
all only appeared in the 18th century, and that it was put forward for
the first time by the free-thinkers of England, France, and Holland. It
is not so: religious as well as political liberty asserted their just
and holy claims at Geneva more than three centuries ago. Switzerland and
the Reform are the first in the field. These principles were so simple
and so true that the Council was convinced; in the face, however, of
formidable adversaries, they feared their own weakness. The syndics
replied to the Messieurs of Berne: 'Stay with us to help us!' The 27th
of May, 1533, deserves a mark of honour in the annals of religious
liberty.

[729] Council Registers of 4th and 25th May.

[730] 'Justa Nemesi gloriosus ille miles fœdo ictu,' &c.—Spanheim,
_Geneva restituta_, p. 60.

[731] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p.
63.—Council Registers of 4th and 5th May.—Roset MS. _Chron._

[732] Council Registers of 4th and 5th May, 1533.—La Sœur J. de Jussie,
_Le Levain du Calvinisme_, pp. 63-64.—Gautier MS.

[733] La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 64.

[734] Ibid.—Council Registers of 2nd July, 1533.—Froment, _Gestes de
Genève_, p. 59.

[735] La Sœur J. de Jussie, p. 65.

[736] Council Registers of 9th May.—La Sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain
du Calvinisme_, pp. 64-66.—Gautier MS.—Froment, _Gestes de
Genève_, p. 59.

[737] _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 66.

[738] _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 66.

[739] Sordet, _Mémoires d'Archéologie_, ii. p. 19.—Council Registers,
May 19.—Gautier MS.

[740] _Mémoires pour les Diocèses de Genève_, &c. par le curé
Besson, p. 62.

[741] Council Registers of 21st May, 2nd and 22nd June.—Froment,
_Gestes de Genève_, p. 62.—Gautier MS.

[742] Council Registers of 22nd May, 1533.

[743] 'Permettre à chacun de suivre les mouvements de sa conscience, en
telle sorte que personne ne soit contraint.'—Council Registers, 27th
May.

[744] 'Que chacun demeure en sa volonté et en son franc
arbitre.'—Council Registers, 27th May.




 CHAPTER XIX.
 CATASTROPHE.
 (BEGINNING OF JULY, 1533.)


While these fine liberal theories were being proclaimed at the hôtel de
ville and hailed with joy by noble minds, some enemies of the Reform
maintained that they were only got up for the occasion, because the
reformed were not yet the strongest party, and the bulk of the people,
who looked upon them as mere trash, was occupied with other things. The
report grew stronger every day that the bishop had made up his mind at
last, that his resolution was not to be shaken, and that in obedience to
the pope he was about to return to Geneva. The liberty so lately
proclaimed was, therefore, seriously endangered.

[Sidenote: PREPARATIONS TO RECEIVE THE BISHOP.]

Every preparation was made for the reception of the prince, whose
approaching arrival began to turn people's heads, as usually happens in
such a case. Priests, mamelukes, and ducal partisans believed that the
hour of their triumph was at hand, and that independence and Reform
would be effectually buried. Every man who owned a horse had him
dressed, as no one was permitted to go and meet the bishop on foot.[745]
The trumpeters rehearsed, the artillerymen got out their guns. Jacques
de Malbuisson, one of the chiefs of the catholic party, thinking that
there was nothing too fine for a bishop and prince, especially for one
who was bringing to the city, as a token of welcome, submission to the
pope in religious matters, and to an ecclesiastical sovereign in
temporal matters, hung the walls of the episcopal palace with beautiful
tapestry, covered the tables and floors with silk and woollen cloth, and
filled the rooms with rich furniture. Pierre de la Baume had appointed
him quartermaster, and the good catholic intended that the beauty of the
decorations should make the Genevans comprehend the greatness of their
prince.

If a servile crowd was preparing to sacrifice to a priest the liberties
of the people and the Word of God, those who esteemed these treasures
far above all others, anticipated with sorrow that all the old vexations
were about to be revived. The Two Hundred were assembled: one proud
huguenot, jealous of the political liberties, could not contain himself,
and rising in the Council, said: 'There is a report that the mamelukes
who deserted the city some seven years ago are to escort the bishop and
return with him: I ask if it is true?' Instantly the storm broke out.
Some said 'Yes!' others 'No!' The debate grew warm; they provoked and
abused each other, gave one another the lie, and used very irritating
language.[746] At last the huguenots conquered, and the Two Hundred
ordered that the mamelukes should not be allowed to enter, for fear that
there should be discord instead of harmony in the city.

The syndics foresaw that such a resolution would probably excite
confusion in the procession accompanying the bishop; and as they wished
to avoid all disputes, they sought an opportunity for bringing men's
minds together. Assembling the leaders of the opposing parties, they
entreated them, as a sign of peace, to dine together. Such a banquet,
they thought, would reconcile factions and dissipate the fears of the
prelate. It was an _argumentum ad hominem_. How could Pierre de la Baume
be afraid of men who drank together? Libations were indeed copiously
poured out in honour of concord, for the Genevans were always ready in
this respect; but the convictions of the two parties remained the same.
Wine had no power to change either the champions of the pope or of the
people, neither the Guelphs nor the Ghibelines.[747]

On Tuesday, 1st of July, the prince-bishop descended the Jura, attended
by his chancellors, the president De Gevigny and many of the nobility,
meditating the counter-revolution he hoped to bring about. The Friburg
deputies, 'knowing the prelate's timid humour,'[748] went to meet him at
Gex, in order to protect his entrance. They turned back with him and
drew near the city. This event, which filled the catholics with joy, was
a great trouble to the proud huguenots and pious evangelicals, and
nearly broke their hearts. The procession seemed to them like a funeral
train. Were independence, liberty, the growing Reform—those inestimable
riches which are the life of man—to be carried like a dead body to the
grave? Were those bells, just beginning to ring, tolling a funeral
knell? Everything seemed to point that way.

Just as the brilliant escort that was riding out to meet the bishop
crossed the bridge over the Rhone, a troop of about fourscore catholics
appeared, all carrying arquebuses. The premier syndic, who was watching
them with uneasy look, ordered them to return. 'We are going to our
prince,' answered they with spirit. The magistrates and their escort
lost sight of them for a few moments, but the troop was again visible
when the procession got out of the city. 'They are the most violent of
the party,' said some of the syndic's followers. 'They will play us some
scurvy trick.' A second time the syndic ordered them to return, and a
second time they answered, 'We are going to our prince,' and continued
their way.

[Sidenote: THE BISHOP'S ENTRANCE.]

The cortège having proceeded half a league from the city, waited for the
bishop, who came in sight about four in the afternoon. By his side were
the magistrates of Friburg, and behind him the chiefs of the mamelukes,
banished from Geneva but proud of braving those who had expelled them.
The intimidated syndics dared not forbid their entrance into the city.
Nor was this all: the fourscore arquebusiers surrounded the prelate,
assuming the duty of a body-guard. The bells rang out, the artillery
roared, and the friends of the clergy shouted repeated _vivats_. The
throne was regaining strength; the majesty of the prince enhanced its
splendour, and His Highness inspired respect in all who saw him.[749]

These bursts of joy soon came to an end. The bishop had hardly entered
the city, when its appearance changed. New faces were seen
everywhere—faces which seemed to breathe of nothing but revenge. At
night conferences were held at the palace, among the canons and the
other partisans of despotic rule. Everyone talked about the horrible
resolutions come to in these meetings—it was all the same whether the
resolutions were true or fictitious. Many of the reformed were
exceedingly distressed. 'The heretics felt great contrition,' says
Sister Jeanne, 'for they knew full well that the bishop brought no good
to them, but would injure them as much as he could.'[750]

The prelate was firmly resolved to have recourse, if necessary, to
force, banishment, and death. But his character and interests inclined
him also to accomplish peacefully, if he could, the great revolution he
so strongly desired. He wished to act in such a way that appearances at
least should be on his side.

Desiring to give his restoration the double sanction of religion and
policy, the bishop ordered a grand procession for Thursday, 3rd July,
after which a general council of the people should be held. The
procession took place: canons, priests, and friars, walking in order,
sang or chanted their litanies with great fervour, and prayed that God
and the Virgin would be pleased to preserve the holy Roman Catholic
Church in Geneva. When the singing was over, the general council was
held. The refugees, who had forgotten nothing and learnt nothing, would
have preferred a prompt and vigorous repression to this liberal meeting;
but the bishop was unwilling to begin by imprisoning citizens. Besides,
the impatient exiles would lose nothing by waiting.[751]

[Sidenote: THE BISHOP AT THE GENERAL COUNCIL.]

All the bishop's partisans proceeded proud and joyful to the council of
the people; the magistrates with uneasiness, and a few huguenots with
sad and suffering looks. As soon as the assembly was formed, the prelate
appeared, attended by his nobles. He was determined to claim full
sovereign power in Geneva, and to take it by force if it were disputed.
Two great principles—the good pleasure of the prince and the
constitutions of the people—met face to face on the 3rd of July, in the
general council of Geneva. La Baume had taken his precautions; he had
brought several distinguished men with him from Franche Comté, and among
them the bailiff of Dôle, a learned and eloquent magistrate. This
orator, imagining to win the Genevans by flattering and flowery
language, delivered a very fine oration; but his Burgundian eloquence
produced no great effect upon the huguenots. After him the prince-bishop
came forward, and, speaking with a fine clear voice and in very
intelligible language, he asked the syndics and the people whether they
recognised him for their prince and lord. The question was skilfully
put. If they answered _No_, they made themselves rebels, and severe
measures became lawful; while, if they answered _Yes_, they surrendered
to the prelate, and all was over with liberty and the Gospel. The
magistrates, who were careful not to fall into a trap, saw that it was
necessary to make a distinction. Convinced that they held their
charters, franchises, and legislation from God quite as much as the
prince did his power, they made a reserve. 'Certainly, my lord,' they
replied, 'we regard you as our prince, and are ready to obey you; _but
in adopting for guide our liberties, customs, and franchises, written
and unwritten, which we beg you to respect, as you promised to do a long
while ago_.'[752] The embarrassed bishop-prince thought it essential not
to open up the delicate question of the constitution he had ratified,
and, letting alone for the moment all that concerned his temporal power,
he spoke only as a bishop, and delivered to the Genevans a devout
exhortation on the salvation of their souls. In reality, the great
object of his terror was the Reformation; the great desire of his heart
was the triumph of the papacy. 'Have the fear of God before your eyes,'
he said, 'and keep the commandments of holy Church.' He knew full well
that 'holy Church' would recommend the people to recognise his power
without any restriction. He pronounced these words 'in so devout and
humble a manner that everybody wept, and the general council broke up
without dispute or tumult, for which God be praised.'[753]

[Sidenote: THE CHARTERS CONSULTED.]

The Genevans were not, however, ready to bend their necks to receive the
yoke the bishop presented to them. The various members of the assembly
had hardly dispersed before the agitation broke out. Huguenots and
independent catholics declared boldly and with one accord that they
would maintain the constitution; the courtiers and mamelukes alone
supported the absolute privileges of the prelate. 'No despotic power,'
said one party. 'No resistance to the orders of our prince,' said the
other. Offended at the new pretensions of the bishop, the citizens
resolved to oppose him with the antique monuments of their liberty.
There was a vaulted chamber in the hôtel de ville called the _Grotto_,
in which the venerable charters of the Genevan people were enclosed
under many bolts and bars. Not suffering themselves to be disturbed by
the arbitrariness of the bishop, by the eloquence of his orators, or the
terrible bands of Friburg and Turin, the citizens determined to consult
the sacred documents of their franchises. The syndics proceeded to the
Grotto; the rusty bolts yielded to the stout arms of their officers;
they took out the noble parchments of their ancestors, and all eyes were
eagerly turned upon the title-deeds in which were inscribed the duties,
rights, and liberties of the people. The roll was placed upon the table;
it was unfolded, and, while the others listened, one of the magistrates
read the words written therein. 'In the name of the holy, perfect, and
undivided Trinity, Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.' Could the bishop
trample under foot a charter which reposed on so sacred a foundation?
The magistrate continued his examination. This document, drawn up by
Bishop Adhemar in 1387, contained (to use its own words) 'the liberties,
franchises, and immunities which the citizens of Geneva have enjoyed so
long that the memory of man runneth not to the contrary.' The Genevans
were moved, and passing the parchment from hand to hand, read certain
portions of it, and swore to defend their rights.[754]

The syndics having no doubt that these old documents would be received
by the bishop with the profoundest respect, quitted the hôtel de ville,
carrying their venerable charters with them, which they laid before the
prelate. They pointed out to him the immunities that were secured to
them, and withdrew full of hope. But Pierre de la Baume did not care the
least for these old papers, and would not give himself the trouble to
decipher such disagreeable documents: he was in a hurry to see them
restored to the cellar where they had slept so long. He intended to
govern after a more modern fashion. The Reformation, on the other hand,
was about to be accomplished by maintaining, in opposition to episcopal
usurpation, the most lawful rights of the most ancient liberty.[755]

[Sidenote: DESPOTIC PLANS.]

The bishop no longer hesitated. When he had asked the general council to
recognise his sovereignty, the magistrates had replied by limiting it
according to the constitutions of the people. It was necessary therefore
to renounce all idea of reigning with mildness, and to govern by force.
Pierre de la Baume was not the first bishop excluded from his episcopal
city, who had reentered it with thoughts of violence. Tales of
unheard-of cruelties had been imprinted on the memory of the people. In
the tenth century, the bishop of Cambray having been driven from his
city by the burgesses who were exasperated against him, had returned
with foreign soldiers; and these mercenaries, the ministers of his
revenge, had pursued the citizens even into the churches, killing some,
cutting off the hands and feet of others, putting out the eyes of some,
and branding many on the forehead with a red-hot iron.[756] About two
centuries later, another bishop also returning forcibly into his city,
his followers had seized one of the most respected and wealthy citizens,
notwithstanding the promise to spare his life, and had fastened him by
the feet to the tail of a horse, which they forced into a gallop.[757]
The bishop of Geneva did not purpose imitating these episcopal
proceedings; manners, though rude, were softened; he meant to content
himself with less. He would have the principal supporters of the
Reformation and of Geneva seized, and would get rid of them simply by
the sword—either in Geneva, as in the case of Berthelier, or in some
lonely castle, as in the case of Levrier. Then the prince-bishop would
exercise, without control and in his own way, that sovereignty which
appeared to him absolutely necessary in order to stifle the
protestantism of some and the independence of others.

Freed from the importunate antiquarians who put their trust in dusty
charters, the bishop began to prepare for the execution of his designs.
He counted his forces and felt sure of victory. In the first place there
was the Council, which, being mostly catholic, supported him at heart;
then there were the priests and their adherents; then the Friburgers;
then the banished mamelukes, and finally a certain class of people,
skilful in the use of the arquebuse, 'and who would handle it well,'
said the bishop. The total of his partisans being thus reckoned, the
bishop enquired who were the huguenot chiefs he ought to get rid of. It
is hardly probable that La Baume did this alone or simply aided by one
of his secretaries or officers of justice. Weakness was one of the most
marked features of his character; he had no energy, although he
sometimes pretended the contrary. But those around him made up for it.
The proscription that he was about to carry into execution was
essentially due to the encouragements and solicitations of the enemies
of the Reformation and of independence. 'Finding himself strong and
powerful,' says a contemporary, 'both on the part of the Friburgers and
of the enemies of God and the city (namely, the mamelukes) who were now
within the walls, the bishop desired to exercise his tyranny.'[758] Some
of his friends shrank from such severity, and would have desired to
divert him from it; but the most violent men prevailed. 'My lord,' they
said, 'must exercise his power against certain citizens and burgesses,
and by this means extirpate and eradicate the Lutheran sect and
heresy.'[759]

[Sidenote: PROSCRIPTIONS.]

The proscribed were selected indifferently from among the evangelicals
and huguenots. One of the first pointed at was Chautemps. He was not
only a heretic, but his children had been trained up in heresy, and he
had kept for a long time in his house Olivetan, the translator of the
Bible, who had dared reprimand a dominican preacher in full church. Aimé
Levet came next; at his house the religious meetings were most
frequently held. Pierre Vandel—youngest son of that Claude, whom twenty
years before Bishop John of Savoy had cast into prison[760]—a man of
resolute character, readily putting himself in the foreground, was
joined with the other two. Ami Perrin did not belong to the evangelicals
properly so called, but he had been the chief of the four huguenots
whose zeal for controversy had proved so embarrassing to the vicar of
the Madeleine, and passed for the boldest of all the band. Others were
afterwards pointed out: Jean Pecolat, an ill-sounding name in episcopal
ears; Domaine d'Arlod, Jean Veillard, Anthonin Derbey, Henry Doulens,
Jacques Fichet, Claude de Genève, and Philibert de Compey, a nobleman in
high esteem. Although a Savoyard and of gentle birth, Philibert was
huguenot at heart; the count of Genevois took advantage of the
opportunity to confiscate all his lands and lordships, 'and the poor
pervert was deprived of his property,' says a contemporary. There were
still a few more whose arrest was determined on, and among them Pasta
and Rozetta.[761] The bishop and his friends, all full of zeal, hoped to
catch other citizens after these;[762] but they thought it prudent not
to do everything at once. If the first attempt succeeded, they would
follow it up by a second, and would lay their hands upon such citizens
as they had not thought of at first. 'I have proscribed all those whom I
can remember; those whom I have forgotten I will proscribe as they recur
to my mind.' This saying of a great master in the art, found its
application in Geneva.[763]

The bishop, having ended his first task, began to consider how he could
lay hold of the proscribed, which was no easy matter. The most natural
way would have been to capture each of them in his own house; but he
feared, that if he went to work in that fashion, some would hide
themselves, others would escape, and others would be rescued in the
streets. The alarm would spread in a moment, and the daring huguenots
would entrench themselves in Baudichon de la Maisonneuve's house. Above
all, Pierre de la Baume was wanting in frankness; he excelled, whenever
he pleased, in appearing amiable to those whom he hated. He resolved to
give them an invitation, and to hold out his hand graciously to the men
whose death he was plotting. He will invite them to his palace,
'trusting in his faith,' but without keeping it.[764] He will thus take
them all by one cast of the net, then he will tie the knot, and the poor
wretches shall leave the saloons of the palace only to descend to its
dungeons. It was thought an excellent stratagem, and preparations were
made for carrying it out.

The next day, July 5th, the bishop's officers called on the citizens
entered in the black list, and in his name gave them an invitation,
which must have appeared to them either a great honour or a treacherous
snare. If any of them raised objections, the messengers assured them, in
the prelate's name, that no harm would come to them. Some through
candour, others from ignorance, and others also from rashness, proceeded
to the episcopal palace. They had put on their finest suits and wore
their swords. What could the bishop want with them?... Probably to
obtain some concessions, and they were firmly decided not to make any.

Others, who were more clear-sighted or more prudent, took to flight. The
clerical riots which had preceded the bishop's coming, the
unsatisfactory company by which he was surrounded, and the demands he
had made—all combined to give food for thought to minds possessed of any
discernment. Women, more keen or more timid, generally see clearer in
such cases than men: their conjugal love takes the alarm. It would
appear that Claudine Levet and Jaquéma Chautemps felt all the tender
solicitude of their sex, and conjured their husbands not to place
themselves in the cruel hands of the bishop, and to quit their homes,
their children, and their country which they could now serve better
abroad. These two excellent christians were among the number of those
who escaped. Maisonneuve, against whom the mamelukes were much
irritated, set out for Berne, full of indignation against the bishop's
tyranny. To this city, next to God, he always looked for deliverance.
Several others also quitted Geneva.[765]

[Sidenote: HUGUENOTS ENTRAPPED.]

Meantime Perrin, D'Arlod, Vandel, and their friends proceeded to the
palace. The gates opened before them and they entered my lord's
antechambers. But they had hardly arrived, reckoning on the gracious
audience that had been promised them, when they were seized, heavily
fettered, and led away to the episcopal prison.[766] The impetuous
Perrin and the courageous Vandel were compelled to yield to force. The
bishop's officers took them down into the dungeons, and as if cords,
iron doors, and bolts were not enough, their feet were set in the stocks
and their hands were manacled.[767]

[Sidenote: CONJUGAL DEVOTION.]

When the news was told the prince-prelate, it was the pleasantest
tidings he had ever received. He breathed again, and yet he was not
entirely satisfied: he wanted some prisoners whom he had especially set
his heart upon—particularly Levet and Chautemps. But if the husbands had
disappeared, their wives might suffer for them. Pierre de la Baume
ordered Jaquéma Chautemps to be seized, but Claudine Levet remained at
liberty. Claudine was a pious christian woman, firm in faith but of
gentle character, and she was spared; but Jaquéma, who it will be
remembered was taught by Olivetan, possessed perhaps some of that
courageous decision which was found in Calvin's cousin and in Calvin
himself. Claudine was the woman of the New Testament; Jaquéma seems
rather to remind us of the heroines of the Old. It is to be regretted
that we have not the same information about her as about Claudine. At
all events she paid for her husband. The delicate woman, the wife of one
of the chief persons in the city, accustomed to the comforts of life,
used to the company of one of the most original French writers of the
day, the tutor to her children, was shut up in a narrow cell, and
treated roughly like a conspirator. Ancient and modern times have
witnessed more than one instance of conjugal devotion. Many wives,
seeing their husbands threatened with a cruel death, have been able to
say to them:

  . . . . . . Et quel autre que moi
  A le droit d'y prétendre et de mourir pour toi?[768]

The Reformation also has furnished many similar examples.

As part of the huguenot leaders were now in prison, the bishop and his
confidants deliberated what should be done with them. It was quite out
of the question to put them to death publicly in Geneva, like
Berthelier. The simplest way would be to behead them secretly in their
dungeons; but that would be known immediately, and would create terrible
excitement. 'They durst not kill them in the city for fear of the
people.'[769] The bishop's councillors proposed to send them out of
Geneva in a boat by night, and convey them either to Friburg, which was
calling for victims to avenge Wernli's death, or to the castle of
Chillon, where Bonivard was shut up, or to Jussy near Mount Voiron, or
lastly to the strong castle of Gaillard at the foot of the Salève, 'and
there do as they pleased with them.'[770] They decided on the last plan,
and orders were given for carrying it out.

Thus everything proceeded to the bishop's satisfaction. As some of the
principal huguenots were about to be sent out of Geneva, it became
necessary 'to catch other citizens after them and serve them the same,'
that is, carry them also out of the city; for the fear of the people
continually pursued the bishop. He was planning how to continue the work
he had undertaken, when news was brought him which greatly troubled him.

One of his agents, commissioned by him to take note of everything that
occurred in the city, came and told him that not only Baudichon de la
Maisonneuve had escaped, but that he had gone to Berne to demand
help.... What a check! what danger! If the fugitive brings back the
Bernese, they will undertake the defence of heresy ... it will triumph.
The harder the blow which La Baume desired to strike, the more dangerous
would it be if it failed. He was therefore in great alarm and in a great
passion also. He ordered his officers to pursue those who had escaped,
to take horses so as to catch them up, and to bring them back bound to
prison where their friends awaited them. But he did not rest satisfied
with sending after the fugitives such persons as were under his own
orders, he wanted others to track them down, to catch them in the rear
or in front: this induced him to make a very extraordinary demand.

As soon as the syndics had heard of the arrest of some of the most
notable of the citizens, they had summoned the council. Astounded at the
tyrannical act, and alarmed for the future of the republic, they
deliberated what was to be done. Should they abandon their
fellow-citizens to the illegal vengeance of the bishop, or should they
revolt against their prince? They were plunged into silent stupor when a
messenger from the bishop appeared. No doubt he had come to give some
explanation, to make an excuse, and perhaps to declare that the bishop
would withdraw his fatal decree! No such thing: the council soon learnt
that he was charged with an extraordinary message.

[Sidenote: STRANGE REQUEST OF THE BISHOP.]

The episcopal messenger, having made the customary salutations, said:
'My lord has decided to send his officers beyond the frontiers to take
certain _criminals_ (this was the term he applied to those noble
citizens). Our very reverend prince therefore requires the council to
lend him some of the city officers to accompany his own and pursue the
fugitives in the territory of Savoy.' This was too much. De la Baume
required the magistrates of Geneva to employ in oppressing citizens the
power they had received to defend them. Such an audacious proposition
disgusted the syndics; they did not hesitate to refuse his demand;
desiring, however, to keep on good terms with him to the last, they gave
a specious motive for their refusal. 'Pray pardon us,' they answered the
bishop, 'if we cannot do it; we should be afraid lest the duke, whose
territories our officers would have to enter, should be angry with us
for violating the treaties.' This refusal threw him into a great
passion. He believed, perhaps not without reason, that the duke of Savoy
would overlook the violation of territory, as its object was to catch
huguenots. 'Return,' he said to his officer, 'and tell those gentlemen
to do justice, and that if they do not, there are fourscore in the city
who will help me to do it. Add, that they are to act straightforwardly.'
The magistrates remained firm. But the prelate found some little
consolation in the cooperation of people better disposed than the
syndics of Geneva to subserve his anger.[771]

Aimé Levet, instead of escaping by the right bank, on which his house
was situated, had chosen the left bank, and thrown himself into that
beautiful country which extends between the Rhone and the lake on one
side, and Mount Voiron and Mount Salève on the other, and where the wide
opening which these two mountains leave between them, permits the
traveller to contemplate the magnificent range of the Alps of Mont
Blanc. Was it Levet's wish to avoid taking the usual road of the
fugitives, on which he was sure to be arrested; or did he intend hiding
in the mountains, as the fine month of July invited him, to climb the
easy and graceful slope of the Voiron, or to scale, by the road called
l'Echelle (the ladder), the abrupt walls of Salève, whose enormous rocks
overhang the plain? That is possible; other fugitives had done so. Levet
wandered for some time in that part of the valley where the sandy
torrent of the Arve utters a low murmur; but, thinking only how he
should escape his persecutors, he had no leisure to contemplate the
dazzling vision of the Alps lighted up by a July sun, which made so
striking a contrast with the gloomy paths he was then traversing. He
knew that mamelukes, priests, ducal partisans, and above all, the Sire
de Montagny, castellan of Gaillard, would follow in his track. How
strange his destiny! Only a few months ago he had been a zealous
catholic, and then the surprising conversion of his wife had led to
his.... Now, he was wandering about as a fugitive, without a place where
to lay his head. We cannot tell all the anguish he went through, and all
the groans he uttered. He did not lose courage, however, for he knew Him
who was his protector, and who maintains the right. He was assured of
being able to stand before God and His angels at the very moment when
men were hunting him down. He had wolves behind him eager to tear him in
pieces, but 'God saves His poor sheep, even out of the jaws of the
lions.'[772]

[Sidenote: LEVET PURSUED AND TAKEN.]

They were indeed in pursuit of him. Messire de Charanzonay, a canon of
Geneva, had kept his eye on Levet: he knew that he had made off in the
direction of the mountains, and that he must be found either in the
bailiwick of Gaillard, or in the parish of Bonne. He had an interview,
therefore, with the castellan of Gaillard, M. de Montagny, a good
catholic and Savoyard, who furnished him with aid; a band of men left
the castle, and the chase began, the canon leading the way. Erelong,
poor Levet heard the footsteps of the people in search of him: he was
seized. The canon, eager to vent his anger, had him scourged without any
form of trial, and after he had been soundly beaten, sent him off to the
castle of Gaillard.[773] Levet, encompassed by guards, was conducted to
that fortress, situated at the point where the Arve, issuing from the
mountains, enters the plain, and where many an innocent man had been
imprisoned. The drawbridge fell and rose again, the massive gates
opened, the armed sentinels halted to see the huguenot pass, and at last
Levet, doubly guilty, as a liberal and as an evangelical, was thrown
into a deep dungeon. From that moment the husband's captivity assured
the liberty of the wife.

[Sidenote: FRIBURG DEPUTIES CALL FOR REVENGE.]

Other circumstances happening on the same day (6th of July) rejoiced the
bishop and his court, and put to the proof the firmness of the council
as well as the tranquillity of the citizens. A man sent from the Pays de
Vaud reported that a number of well-armed Friburgers had arrived at Nyon
and threatened Geneva. They were the avengers of Wernli's blood. 'Go and
tell the captain-general,' said the syndics, 'and bid him look to the
safety of the city.' Shortly after this, a citizen told the council that
the Friburgers who were in Geneva were preparing to set out for the
castle of Gaillard. Presently a third person came and informed the
syndics that the Friburgers were crossing the lake from Nyon, and that
their boats could be clearly distinguished from the upper part of the
city, making for the south. Finally, news came from Gaillard that
Wernli's relations, accompanied by a great number of Friburg
men-at-arms, had entered the fortress, vowing they would wash their feet
in the blood of the evangelicals. The council did not know what to do,
and the city was filled with apprehension.[774]

The extremes of anguish were felt in the homes of the prisoners. The
most sinister stories were propagated through the city as to the
severity employed by the bishop towards his captives. Some began to lose
courage and to ask—it was a question often put in the time of the
Reformation—why the disciples of the Gospel had to endure not only the
afflictions common to all men, but calamities from which their enemies
were exempt? 'Ah!' replied the wiser ones, 'the corn is first threshed
in the barn along with the straw; but afterwards it is pressed and
crushed alone on the millstone.'[775] All were not to be comforted, and
from many an afflicted house the cries of sorrow rose to heaven.

Meanwhile, the avoyers of Friburg pressed the council to grant to
Wernli's relations the justice they demanded, and insisted that the
Genevans arrested on the 23rd May and 4th June should be brought to
trial immediately. The mamelukes cried still louder than the Friburgers,
and demanded the trial of the eleven persons imprisoned on the 5th July.
While the case of the Friburgers was entirely judicial, that of the
mamelukes was political: they wished to take advantage of a trial to
effect a revolution. The council instructed the procurator-fiscal to
have the accused brought before him, as the Genevan constitution
required; but the fiscal declared he could not do so on account of the
order of the prince, who had cited the case before himself. The bishop
meant to be at once judge and interested party, and to substitute
clerical despotism for the protecting forms of the lay tribunals. The
alarmed magistrates immediately waited on the prince to make their
humble but resolute protest.[776]

Pierre de la Baume had just dined when the syndics appeared. 'I have
cited the cause before me,' he said: 'I have my reasons.' The syndics
represented to him that he might pardon men after sentence, but not try
accused persons, who must necessarily appear before the lawful
tribunals. 'I cite the case before me,' repeated the bishop. The
indignant syndics bowed and withdrew. Sebastian de Diesbach, the
banneret of Weingarten and other deputies from Berne, had arrived at
Geneva, and Baudichon de la Maisonneuve, as it seems, had returned with
them. The syndics prayed their intervention, and the Bernese spoke to
the bishop; but the passionate headstrong churchman would not listen to
them. He stretched the cord at the risk of breaking it. 'I have cited
the case before me,' he said again.

The spirit of blind fanaticism was felt in other places besides the
palace: it agitated the mamelukes, carried away the episcopalians and
even a few of the Friburgers. They had sworn the death of liberty and
the Reformation, and were already planning the means of preventing for
ever their return to Geneva. They went up and down the city, and were
quite indefatigable. As you looked at them you would have said—the
comparison was made at the time—that coming after the deluge, and
wishing to prevent the waters from invading their dwellings again, they
had said to one another: 'Let us build a tower whose top may reach unto
heaven.' 'They built the tower of Babel,' says a contemporary,
'presuming, like the giants, to fight against God.'

[Sidenote: ATTACKS ON HUGUENOTS.]

They did indeed come to blows. On that very day (7th July) some horsemen
of the episcopal party who were riding at Plainpalais in front of the
convent of their friends the Dominicans, saw three of the most
considerable of the Genevese citizens go past: they were Philippe the
captain-general, John Lullin afterwards syndic, and Francis Favre who
was a member of the ordinary council in the following year. The
cavaliers immediately rode at them, calling them traitors and Lutherans.
The three huguenots were hated and feared by the mamelukes, who knew
them to be men ready to sacrifice their lives for the ancient liberties
of their country. If they had not been included in the first
proscription, it was partly through fear, for their boldness was
indomitable; and also because it had been preferred to begin with pious
evangelicals like Chautemps and Levet. True, Ami Perrin had been
arrested; but without having undergone the great change which Scripture
calls 'a new birth,' he was still in the front rank whenever the cause
of the Reformation was in question. It was he who had actively protected
Farel. Besides the episcopal _sbirri_ could not well distinguish between
protestants who were such inwardly and those who were so outwardly only.
However, neither persecution nor insult abated the courage of the
citizens. They knew that God often suffers the wicked to act for a few
days, and permits them to raise high towers against his elect. Then on a
sudden he strikes the huge mass, he loosens the joints and scatters the
materials, so that the mighty edifice whose summit was to rise to heaven
falls into dust, and is scattered to the winds.

The syndics, being determined to resist the bishop and his usurpations,
convened the council of Sixty on the 8th July, and explained to them how
he purposed to place Geneva under the government of his good pleasure,
and by way of beginning, was preparing to try in his own court the
noblest of the citizens. The future that threatened Geneva filled the
assembly with emotion and fear. What was to be done? Resort to force,
policy, or diplomacy? The Genevans, in self-defence, looked for simpler
and more affecting means; they had recourse to one of those measures
which are almost unique in history, and exhale a perfume of antiquity.

[Sidenote: ELDERS OF GENEVA BEFORE THE BISHOP.]

There were in Geneva certain Nestors of liberty, who, uplifting their
hoary heads among three generations of their children, gave utterance to
words of wisdom. To these they had recourse. Councillors—their sons
probably—went to fetch them, and these venerable witnesses of the
ancient liberties entered the presence of the council, where seats were
placed for them. Although the vigour of their bodies was weakened, their
hearts now beat stronger for their country than in their younger days,
and their memory recalled to them distinctly the times of yore.
Accordingly, when they heard of the dangers by which the republic was
threatened, and of the bishop's intention to usurp judicial power, they
were filled with sadness and alarm. 'Criminal causes,' they said,
'belong to the civil magistrate; the practice has never varied in that
respect, and the bishop's claim to hear them himself is a novelty
without precedent.' The council of sixty resolved to send a deputation
to the prince, composed of the four syndics and six of these aged
citizens, who felt happy to bear, before they died, a last testimony to
the liberties of their country. If the bishop laughed at the ancient
papers of ancient Geneva, would he also laugh at these ancient men?

The deputation, proceeding slowly through the streets, took its way
towards the palace. The fathers of the country walked with tottering
steps, supported by the younger ones, and advanced towards the residence
of the haughty priest whom Rome had sent to the shores of the Leman, and
who was trampling under foot the most venerable rights. Never had men
going to plead the independence of a nation inspired more tenderness,
sympathy, and respect. People watched and blessed them as they passed,
and prayers were raised to heaven that God would accompany with his
strength this extraordinary step in favour of liberty.[777]

The bishop, informed of the movement, had desired to surround himself
with all that could give a specious appearance to his usurpations. And
accordingly, when they entered the hall, the deputation found not only
the prelate sitting in pomp—not only his councillors, officers, and the
ambassadors of Berne and Friburg ranged around him,—but also the
relatives of the canon. Pierre de la Baume paired the suppliants of
Friburg against the elders of Geneva. The syndics respectfully expressed
to him their surprise that he should appear to look upon the council
with suspicion, that several citizens of note had been thrown into
prison, and lastly that his lordship, contrary to the laws, had cited
the case before his own tribunal. But, while the elders turned a look at
once mild and penetrating upon the prince, and their hoary heads seemed,
as it were, to bring the old times before him, Wernli's relatives,
shaking their black garments, again called for vengeance, declaring that
the prince had promised to do them justice, and praying upon him to be
faithful to his word. 'Yes,' said the bishop immediately, 'yes, I cite
the cause before me.' The syndics, determined not to give up the most
venerated laws of the State, placed before him the ancient constitution
of the people, and pointing to the twelfth article, read as follows:
'That no inquisition upon lay malefactors, or other process whatsoever,
can or shall be held, except by summoning the four syndics and four
citizens of the said city of Geneva, who shall be chosen by the other
citizens.[778] And that the trial and sentence of the afore-named
malefactors belongs and shall belong to the aforesaid citizens, and not
to any other persons whatsoever.' The constitution having thus spoken,
the syndic ceased.

[Sidenote: THE BISHOP WILL NOT YIELD.]

Then the elders, who had hitherto kept silent, and whose grave, modest,
and firm looks inspired respect, came forward. One of them, speaking for
all, raised his trembling hands, 'and declared that such had always been
the law of Geneva, and that never in the course of their long lives had
they had the pain to see the prince trample it under foot.' The feeble
voices and calm looks of these venerable men added a strange, and one
might almost say a heavenly, force to their testimony. That humble
speech in favour of liberty possessed an eloquence more penetrating than
the most admirable orations of a Cicero or a Demosthenes. But, if
liberty had never been more touching, despotism had never been more
obstinate. The syndics conjured the bishop in vain, in the name of the
laws and of God, to surrender the prisoners to them, according to the
law, so that they might try them conformably with their office; Pierre
de la Baume kept repeating: 'I cannot, I have cited the cause before
me.' The Friburg ambassadors begged the syndics to consent to the
episcopal citation, 'for this time only,' but the magistrates of Geneva
were unwilling that the franchises of the city should be violated either
now or later. They quitted the bishop's palace with sorrow, and the six
elders followed them.[779]

When they arrived at the hôtel-de-ville, the council of sixty was still
sitting. They gave a faithful account of their mission. They reported
that the bishop-prince persisted in his iniquitous _non possumus_, and
although the council felt deep pain at hearing the statement, no one
flinched. These Genevans knew the fidelity that freemen owe to the
institutions of their ancestors. The ambassadors of Berne then asked to
be admitted. Importuned by their allies, the Friburgers, and by the
councillors of the bishop, these haughty Bernese, unfaithful to their
renown, had come to imagine that the Genevans might very well, for
_once_, on this solemn occasion, renounce their charter and their
rights. Sebastian de Diesbach therefore invited the council to try if
they could not 'consent to this citation, which the prelate positively
would not recal.' Thus the only allies of Geneva solicited them to enter
voluntarily upon the path of concessions.... The council deliberated,
and the Sixty were unanimous. Here is the resolution which the secretary
entered upon the register: 'Ordered to reply to My Lords of Berne, that
we will not consent to this citation, as it is entirely contrary to our
franchises, and resolved to ask them to be pleased to aid us with their
advice.' My Lords of Berne did not like to see their advice rejected,
but as they withdrew they said that such men deserved to be free.[780]

This new refusal exasperated the mamelukes. They were determined to use
Wernli's death as an instrument of war to beat down the ancient edifice
of Genevese liberties, to root up the foundations of the Reformation,
and to establish on the ruins their own theories concerning the absolute
power of the pope and the prince. Consequently they demanded the
convocation of the Two Hundred, hoping to find favourable voices among
them. The great council met the next day, and the Friburg ambassadors
appeared before it, attended by a great number of the relations and
friends of the canon—all dejected, gloomy, and silent, like the
suppliants of ancient times. It was not fanaticism which animated the
greater part of them. They had played with Wernli in their childhood;
they had loved him in their youth; they venerated his memory now that a
terrible catastrophe had stretched him dead in the streets of the city.
If they had been unable to defend him in the hour of danger, they wished
to do everything now the hour of vengeance was come. It was not
sufficient to have sprinkled his body with their tears, the blood of
victims must flow in the very spot where the martyr had been struck
down. 'Most honoured lords,' said the canon's brother, 'the justice
which men owe to one another is written on earth in the hearts of the
just; why, then, should you trample it under foot? You have not yet done
justice for the death of him who was our brother and our friend; on the
contrary, you left the criminals free to come and go for six weeks. His
body lies in the grave, but his blood, sprinkled on the stones of your
city, calls for vengeance. If you are armed with the sword, it is not
for mere show but to strike malefactors. And yet your tribunals are
dumb, and your sword slumbers in the sheath. Permit my lord bishop to
cite the case before him. If you refuse, you may rest assured that we
shall seek other means of avenging the death of our friend, and we shall
drown our sorrow and anger not in the waters of justice but in blood.'
The Friburgers spoke as if it were a murder: they forgot that the canon
had put on a cuirass, that he had grasped the halberd, that he had gone
fully armed to the scene of tumult, that he had rekindled the dying
flames, and attacked the huguenots, who had only used their arms in
legitimate self-defence. The avoyer of Friburg seconded the eloquent
menaces of Wernli's brother.[781]

[Sidenote: REFUSAL OF THE TWO HUNDRED.]

The Two Hundred saw that a war with Friburg and Savoy would be the
consequence of their refusal, but they had taken their stand on the rock
of right and were not to be moved. 'We do not know of any guilty persons
who have been allowed to come and go freely in the city,' they said. 'If
it be so, the blame lies with the procurator-fiscal whose duty it was to
apprehend them, and not with us who are judges. As for permitting my
lord to cite the cause before him, we cannot do so; it would be a
violation of the franchises, for which we and our forefathers have often
risked our bodies and our goods.' The syndic added that the council
would consent to the bishop's naming two persons to be present at the
examination, but on condition that they had no deliberative voice. The
Friburgers and mamelukes could not make up their minds to accept this
proposition. They were specially vexed that Coquet, syndic of the guard,
whom they looked upon as devoted to the reform, should be among the
number of the judges, whilst in their opinion he ought to be in the
prisoner's dock.[782]

[Sidenote: ARGUMENTS FOR THE TEMPORAL POWER.]

If it had been a mere question of punishing the author of the canon's
death, the prelate would perhaps have trusted to the syndics; but he
aimed at destroying both liberty and the Reformation in Geneva, and for
that he trusted to himself alone. To supplications, threats, and
violence some consented to add reasons. There was a kind of argument
used only in scholastic debates to prove that priests were the best
judges both in civil and political matters. This strange proposition was
demonstrated by syllogism. The major was: 'He is the best fitted to
judge who is nearest to God.' The minor this: 'Ecclesiastics are nearer
to God than laymen.' The conclusion is evident. They had recourse also
to arguments derived from astronomy. 'As there are two great lights in
the universe,' it was said, 'so there are also two in society. The
Church is the sun and the State is the moon. Now the moon has no light
of her own; all her light is derived from the sun. It is evident,
therefore, that the church possesses in itself, formally and virtually,
the temporal jurisdiction of the state.'[783]

Such arguments had great strength in the prelate's eyes: he appointed
two deputies, his bailiff and his attorney, and sent them to the Two
Hundred with orders to defend the rights of the sun. The union of the
two powers in a single individual supplied them with their principal
argument. The BISHOP was hardly mentioned in their speech but only the
_prince_. 'The bishop is your prince,' they declared; 'and you, the
syndics, are his officers. He may therefore command you as his subjects,
and when he transfers to his tribunal a cause which is in your hands,
you have only to obey.' This theory of absolute power could not pass in
Geneva. 'We are not the prince's officers,' replied the magistrates,
'but syndics of the city, elected by the people and not by my lord. He
has no power to institute us, and even his own officers, nominated by
himself, make oath to us, whilst we make oath to nobody.' Then the
syndics, turning to the Friburg deputation, continued: 'Sirs, you helped
us in the time of Berthelier, help us again now. It is not we, but the
bishop and his officers who alone occasion the delay of which you
complain. Let two deputies from the bishop, two from Berne, and two from
Friburg, assist at the trial, and be witnesses of our uprightness.'[784]

The bishop persisted in his demand: the deputies from Berne, desiring to
terminate the difference, proposed that the cause should be remitted to
two judges nominated by the council, two by the bishop, two by Berne,
and two by Friburg. The Genevans replied that a people were not at
liberty to sacrifice the smallest portion of their rights; and fatigued
with these endless importunities, they added: 'If our offer is refused,
we will convoke the general assembly of the people and do what it shall
ordain.' The Bernese, knowing very well that if the matter was referred
to the people no arrangement would be possible, exclaimed: 'Pray do
nothing of the kind.'

Whilst even Berne was soliciting the syndics to give way, the wives,
relations, and friends of the prisoners conjured them to persevere in
their resistance. They feared to hear every morning that it was too late
to act. 'It is time to bring the matter to an end,' said the syndics to
the Bernese. 'The prisoners are only accused; is it just to make them
suffer as if they were guilty? Go and speak plainly to the prince; make
him comprehend the duty which our liberties impose upon us.' The Bernese
went to the episcopal palace, but neither the bishop nor the Friburgers
who were with him would yield an inch. 'Messieurs of Geneva will not do
otherwise than they have said,' coldly answered Pierre de la Baume.
'Very good! and we for our part will not do otherwise than we have
declared.' The Friburgers added with a menacing tone: 'We are about to
return home and there ... we shall consider another remedy.' This remedy
was war: the Friburg deputies would return with an army.[785]

[Sidenote: THE PRISONERS IN THEIR CELLS.]

While these things were going on, the huguenots and evangelicals, seized
by the bishop's order, were still in prison bound hand and foot. Pierre
Vandel, Claude Pasta, the Sire de Compey, Domaine D'Arlod, the energetic
Ami Perrin and others, not forgetting Jaquéma, awaited their fate in the
gloomy vaults of the episcopal residence. In every house in Geneva and
at the town-hall people were constantly talking of them. 'The
prisoners,' they said, 'are kept in close confinement.' Such severity
excited universal compassion, and the secretary of council mentions it
in the Registers.[786] However if the bishop had been able to deprive
them of freedom of motion, there was another he could not take from
them, which was a sweet consolation for those who had received the
gospel in their hearts. 'Though they were bound and made fast in the
stocks,' says Calvin, 'still while praying they praised God.' It is of
Paul and Silas, shut up in the prison at Philippi, of whom the reformer
is speaking; but what he says of the liberty of prayer, which exists
even in spite of chains, may be applied to some of those who were now in
the prelate's dungeons.

Just at this time a report circulated through the city that the bishop
was secretly preparing boats for the removal of the prisoners to some
castle. It was said that certain stout watermen were ready to grasp the
oar, that an armed force would accompany the captives, and that as soon
the episcopal officers were upon the open lake they would laugh at the
syndics and the huguenots. These reports still more excited the anger of
the citizens. One of them, a daring man named Pierre Verne, watching the
boats moored on the shore, sought the means of preventing this unlawful
abduction: he thought he had found one, simple and in his opinion
infallible, and waited (as we shall see presently) until the veil of
night concealed him from the eyes of the enemy.[787]

If the prince's councillors were contriving how to get the huguenot
captives away, certain of the mamelukes were vexed that there were still
so many at liberty, and that the bishop was so slow in apprehending them
all without exception. It seemed to them that the _coup d'état_, or
rather _coup de main_, of which they had dreamt was long in coming; and
they knew that if a bold stroke is to succeed, the execution must be
prompt. Some of them began therefore to make amends for official
slowness by separate acts of violence.

[Sidenote: ATTEMPT TO MURDER CURTET.]

It was harvest time, and Jean Ami Curtet or Curteti, a man well disposed
towards the Gospel and belonging to a family which Duke Philibert le
Beau had ennobled, had gone out in the morning to visit a field which he
possessed on the banks of the Arve. He examined the ears and the stalks:
everything promised a fine harvest. Knowing that when wheat is once
ripe, there should be no delay in reaping it, he ordered the labourer
who accompanied him to begin to cut it. But he was destined to fall
before his corn, and on that very spot.... A sudden noise was heard,
some men in disguise fell upon him, knocked him down, beat him and left
him for dead in his own field. The news soon reached the city. 'It is
some gentlemen in disguise who have murdered him,' said the people. On
hearing the mournful news, the relations and friends of Curtet seized
their arquebuses, and about forty of them hastened towards the Arve
bridge. They raised the poor man who was seriously wounded, and bearing
their sad burden returned slowly into the city, their hearts bursting
with anger. As the procession passed in front of a house where some
Friburgers lodged, one of the Genevans called them 'Rascals and
traitors!' The Friburgers, innocent of the attempt, swore that they
would demand satisfaction for such an outrage; but the sad procession,
passing slowly through the principal streets of Geneva, under the
windows of the chief citizens, called up very different thoughts. Men
asked each other whether the partisans of the prince-bishop intended to
add murder to illegal arrest; whether it was sufficient to wear a mask
and strange garments to deprive citizens of their lives, without any
risk to the murderers; and whether every huguenot, as he was engaging in
the most innocent occupations, might be suddenly laid dead by a masked
enemy in the fields bequeathed to him by his ancestors?[788]

While these dangers were accumulating on the heads of the friends of the
Reformation in Geneva itself, perils not less great were gathering round
the city. People arriving from the country on the left bank of the Rhone
and of the lake reported that armed Friburgers and Savoyards were
assembling in great numbers at the castle of Gaillard, and that one of
the Wernlis commanded a part of them. It was well known that this
person, exasperated by the death of his relative the canon, combined in
his heart, along with the love and respect he bore to his memory, a more
energetic sentiment—that of revenge. The knights and soldiers who
gathered round him caught the infection of his anger. But not at
Gaillard only were armed men assembling, according to the reports of the
country people: there were some higher up, in the direction of the
mountains, at Etrembières, where there was a ferry over the Arve to the
_mandement_ of Mornex. Others were assembling higher still around the
picturesque hill of Montoux, and especially at the village of Collonges,
at the foot of the hill. At the same time, the people who came to Geneva
from the right bank of the Rhone and the lake, from the side of the
Jura, brought similar tidings, and spoke of armed men in the Gex
district, and particularly at the Grand Saconnex, three-quarters of a
league from Geneva. The city was beginning to be surrounded by its
enemies.[789]

The time seemed near when the projects conceived by the bishop at Arbois
were about to be realised. That prelate, who reproached his friend
Besançon Hugues for not having '_barked_' loud enough to prevent the
fall of his authority, proposed not only to bark himself against the
'_wolves_,' but also to bite them. One of those priests whom Rome had
raised to the rank of princes of nations had said: 'I am accustomed to
act vigorously.... I shall consider what it must be.' The pontiff was
preparing to fulfil his own prophecies.

[Sidenote: GENEVA AND CALVIN.]

The future of Geneva was indeed threatening. On the 10th of July a
gloomy veil seemed to be closing over that noble city. A fanatical party
was preparing the shroud in which it designed to bury the independence
of the citizens and the Reformation of the Church. That city, for which
many persons had already anticipated a more glorious destiny, was about
to be reduced to a mere provincial town, occupying an undistinguished
place in the world, and subject to the enervating influence of Rome,
without life and without liberty.

But other things were written in heaven. God was preparing both Geneva
and Calvin to deliver battle together, on the result of which was to
depend the triumph of the Gospel and the liberty of modern nations. And
to prepare for these glorious events, the steps of the great reformer
were soon to be directed, undesignedly on his part, towards that small
but energetic city, unique of its kind in Europe, and of which the man
of God was not then thinking.

We shall not forget that other nations have also added their stone to
the edifice of civil and religious liberty. From Switzerland, Germany,
the Low Countries, the British Isles, France, and afterwards America, as
well as other countries, were to proceed some of the acts destined to
secure the triumph of God's right and man's liberties.

And yet Calvin and Geneva did something. Calvin possessed an inflexible
resolution. God had said to this man as he had said of old to one of his
prophets: _As an adamant harder than flint have I made thy forehead;
fear them not, neither be dismayed at their looks, though they be a
rebellious house_.[790] It was not by chance, as it is termed, that such
a character was called to the midst of a people who had shown in
terrible struggles, watered with the blood of their best citizens, an
indomitable resistance to absolute power. At the period of history we
are describing God was preparing Calvin and Geneva each apart; but the
union of those two natures, predestined (if I may say so) for each
other, could not fail to produce remarkable effects in the world. The
reformer was about to concentrate in this little corner of earth a moral
force which would contribute to save the Reformation in Europe, and to
preserve in a few more favoured spots those precious liberties to which
all nations have equal rights.

It was necessary in the 16th century that a great man and a little
people should serve as a centre to the Reformation. The firmness of the
one, the energy of the other, tempered like steel in the waters of the
Gospel, were to give the tone to nations that were greater though
possibly less decided, and to impress the seal of unity on other
energies. _Behold how great a matter a little fire kindleth!_

While waiting for this new dawn, sorrow reigned in Geneva. The reformers
were expelled, their most fervent disciples were in prison, or wandering
through the country; and the sword was suspended over the heads of all
the friends of God's word. The mamelukes triumphed. The friends of the
Gospel and of liberty asked with anguish if the day of great tribulation
was come at last.... The wives of the prisoners and of the fugitives
expected to hear every moment of some new tragedy. Children called for
their fathers, who came not to the call. Groans and lamentations,
apprehension and even cries of anger, prevailed everywhere.

[Sidenote: FAITH AND HOPE.]

Only a few souls, putting their trust in God, preserved some little
hope. Knowing that 'God is not God unless He is on a throne, that is,
unless he governs the world, they feared nothing, however terrible it
might be,'[791] from the hands of the powers of the earth. In the midst
of agitated hearts and dejected faces, there were eyes which, though
dimmed with tears, were raised towards heaven with a glance of hope and
faith.

[745] 'Pedestris benda.'—Council Registers of 22nd and 30th June.

[746] 'Valde irritatoria.'—Council Registers of 22nd and 30th June.

[747] Council Registers of 22nd and 30th June. Gautier MS.

[748] Mémoires du diocèse de Genève, par le curé Besson, p. 63.

[749] Council Registers of 1st, 2nd, and 3rd July. Froment, _Gestes de
Genève_, p. 61. Gautier MS.

[750] La sœur Jeanne de Jussie, _Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 67.
Gautier MS.

[751] Council Registers of 2nd and 3rd July, 1533. La sœur J. de Jussie,
_Le Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 67. Gautier MS.

[752] Council Registers of 3rd July, 1533.

[753] La sœur J. de Jussie, _Le Levain_, p. 68.

[754] 'Senatus, sua libertate subnixus, jus suum strenue
tuetur.'—Spanheim, _Geneva restituta_, p. 62.

[755] 'Libertates, franchesiæ, immunitates, usus, et consuetudines
civitatis Gebennensis.'—_Mémoires d'Archéologie de la Soc. d'Hist. de
Genève_, tome ii. p. 312. Council Registers of 4th July, 1533.

[756] 'Alios interfecerunt, alios truncatis manibus et pedibus
demembraverunt; quibusdam vero oculos fodiebant, quibusdam frontes ferro
ardente notabant.'—_Scriptur. gallic. et franc._, viii. p. 281.

[757] 'Ad equi caudam pedibus alligatus . . . . vir dives et probus.'—G.
de Noviguto, _Op._ p. 510.

[758] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 61.

[759] Ibid.

[760] Vol. i. p. 73.

[761] Their names are given by Froment in his _Gestes de Genève_,
pp. 61-62.

[762] Ibid.

[763] See Plutarch's _Life of Sylla_. Council Registers of 5th
July.

[764] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 61.

[765] Council Registers of 5th July. La Sœur Jeanne de Jussie, _Le
Levain du Calvinisme_, p. 64. Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, pp.
61, 62.

[766] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 62.

[767] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 62.

[768]

  ... Who besides me
  Can claim the right to die for thee?—_Alceste._

[769] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 62.

[770] 'Et illec en faire à leur plaisir.'—Ibid.

[771] Council Registers of 5th July, 1533.

[772] Calvin.

[773] Council Registers of 5th July and 6th August, 1533.

[774] Council Registers of 6th and 7th July.

[775] Calvin, _Op._ passim.

[776] Council Registers of 6th and 7th July, 1533. Roset MS. liv. iii.
ch. xiv. Gautier MS.

[777] Council Registers of 8th July, 1533. Gautier MS.

[778] 'Nisi vocatis sindicis et quatuor civibus dictæ civitatis.'—Mémoires
d'Archéologie de la Société d'Histoire de Genève,
ii. p. 323.

[779] Council Registers of 8th July, 1533. Roset MS. _Chron._ liv.
iii. ch. xiv. Gautier MS.

[780] Council Registers of 8th July, 1533. Roset MS. _Chron._ liv.
iii. ch. xiv. Gautier MS.

[781] Council Registers of 9th July, 1533. Roset MS. _Chron._ liv.
iii. ch. xiv. Gautier MS.

[782] Council Registers of 9th July, 1533. Roset MS. _Chron._ liv. iii.
ch. xiv. Gautier MS.

[783] 'Cum tota claritas lunæ sit a sole, patet quod jurisdictio
spiritualis, quæ comparatur soli, habet in se formaliter vel virtualiter
jurisdictionem temporalem.'—Goldasti, _Monarchia_, ii. p. 1461 et
seq.

[784] Council Registers of 9th July, 1533.

[785] Council Registers of 9th July, 1533.

[786] Council Registers of 12th July, 1533.

[787] Council Registers of 12th July, 1533.

[788] Council Registers of 14th July, 1533.

[789] Council Registers of 10th July, 1533.

[790] Ezekiel, iii. 9.

[791] Calvin.


 END OF THE THIRD VOLUME.
 LONDON
 PRINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO.
 NEW-STREET SQUARE







End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of History of the Reformation in Europe
in the time of Calvin, Volume 3 (of , by Merle d'Aubigne

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 60774 ***