CALVIN AND FAREL PREACH IN SPITE OF THE PROHIBITION BY THE
COUNCIL.--THEY ARE BANISHED FROM GENEVA.
(EASTER, 1538.)
[Sidenote: APPROACH OF THE CRISIS.]
The crisis was approaching. The danger was increasing. Geneva was
in one of those perilous but decisive moments in which some sudden
change takes place, whether for better or for worse. The population
was getting more and more excited. The news that the ministers would
not celebrate the supper in Geneva raised irritation to the highest
pitch. All explanations were useless; many people would not listen to
anything; anger had stopped their ears. It is said that in the evening
the streets were in an uproar, and that bands of factious men were
shouting against the ministers. It is even added that a masquerade had
been organized for the purpose of presenting a parody of scenes from
the Gospel. We are not sure that the libertines went to that length;
but there was during the evening a great agitation in the town, as the
next day too plainly showed. These scenes of tumult greatly grieved
Calvin. If he turned his thoughts to the past, the great sorrows
which he had already borne in Geneva appeared to him again; and he
foresaw that those which were approaching would be more bitter still.
Interfered with in the preaching of the Word, in the administration of
the sacraments, in the maintenance of apostolical discipline and in
the organization of the Church (the council refused its consent to the
division of the town into parishes, a measure which would have greatly
facilitated the discharge of pastoral duties, and have promoted the
good of families), what was he to do? ‘I confess,’ he wrote, ‘that the
first letters by which the senate endeavored to turn aside my will
from the right path struck me a heavy blow.[629] I saw that I was thus
again plunged into the distresses from which I had hoped that I was
delivered by the great goodness of God. When I accepted the government
of this Church, in conjunction with my excellent and most faithful
colleague Farel, I applied myself in all good conscience to seeking
out the means by which it might be maintained; and although it was for
me a very laborious charge, I never thought of abandoning the place.
I considered myself as set by the hand of God at a post from which
I could not withdraw. And nevertheless, if I were to tell the least
part of the cares, or rather of the miseries, which we were forced
to endure throughout a whole year, I am sure that you would think it
incredible.[630] I can assure you that not a day has passed in which I
did not ten times wish for death.’[631] This Easter eve, when he was on
the point of exposing himself to the greatest griefs, while giving unto
God the honor which is due to him, was doubtless one of those days. He
must drink the cup of the people’s wrath. He, the timid scholar, as he
declares that he always had been, must now face these furious men. But
one thought gave him strength; it is the will of God, and his will must
be done.
[Sidenote: EASTER SUNDAY.]
Easter Sunday dawned. From early morning great agitation prevailed
in the town. The adversaries and friends of the reformers were both
troubled, but in different ways. The former were impatient to see
if they would really preach notwithstanding the prohibition of the
council, and to hear what they might have to say. The latter also were
eager to go to divine service, either from a sentiment of piety or in
order to defend the ministers in case, as some expected, there should
be any disturbance in the churches. The movements of the multitude,
the groups which were forming at various points, the violent speeches
which were uttered from time to time, all were calculated to inspire
fear. In timid souls there was also an inward trouble, an anxiety, and
a heart-ache, inevitable under circumstances so grave. Men, women,
and children, the roar of the crowd, and the confused voices of the
people, filled the streets. Strange things were fancied, evil reports
were circulated. One would almost have said, seeing the general stir,
that some one was going to be led to execution. The crowd was drifting
towards the places of execution. The inhabitants of the right bank
betook themselves to the church of St. Gervais, in which Farel was to
preach; those of the left bank and of the upper part of the town to the
cathedral of St. Peter, where Calvin would preach. They entered the
doors and filled the churches. The friends of the reformers took their
places in general about the pulpit. Their adversaries, distributed
over all parts of the building, and exchanging bold words with each
other, asked themselves whether it was not their duty to aid the
magistrate and prevent the ministers from speaking. The district on the
right bank was that in which most of the opponents of the ministers
lived. Probably some of their most violent enemies had come from
other quarters to hear Farel, whose presence was less imposing than
Calvin’s, and with whom they were more familiarly acquainted. The brave
evangelist had not ceased for some years lavishing his powers for the
good of Geneva, and for this they meant to pay him on this day. Farel
appeared, entered the pulpit, and at the sight of him considerable
excitement was manifested by the audience. No attempt, however, was
made to close his mouth. The preaching of this popular orator at the
present moment was a spectacle which interested them as much as or even
more than any other. The prayer and the hymns being over, the discourse
began. Farel, with his intrepid heart, his fervent spirit, his strong
convictions, and his power of impressing and carrying away his hearers,
did not conceal the truth. Without dwelling on the question of bread,
which he declared was a secondary matter, he spoke of the holiness of
the supper. He remonstrated with the people, as if they intended, in
his opinion, to defile the holy sacrament,’[632] and he declared that,
to prevent such a profanation, the holy supper would not be celebrated.
These words moved the whole assembly, and roused a great part of them
to indignation. Adversaries became disorderly, friends were in alarm.
Imaginations were heated, anger burst forth, and outcries were heard.
_In the morning a disturbance was got up against Farel in the church of
St. Gervais._[633] But the preacher’s habit was to brave danger; and,
above all, he knew no fear when unworthy men
Voulaient du Dieu vivant braver la majesté.
[Sidenote: DISTURBANCE AT ST. GERVAIS.]
He therefore went on. His popular eloquence, his animated movements,
his imagery so well adapted to make his ideas more lively and more
obvious, his energetic gestures, his voice like thunder, the resounding
of which, according to Theodore Beza, made his hearers tremble, made
him the most captivating of the orators of France and Switzerland.
Farel, who generally spoke extempore, could not but be struck at the
spectacle which presented itself to him, for the congregation in such
circumstances always reacts on the preacher. He was standing in the
presence of a stormy sea, the surging waves of which appeared about
to engulf him. But he felt that he stood on a rock, and he had learnt
long ago to brave the tempest. He then courageously unfolded the act of
accusation. He set forth those things which would profane the supper.
He enumerated ‘those divisions, those bands, those blasphemies, those
profligacies which were multiplying, and which made it impossible for
the ministers to administer it.’[634] For a long time people could
not listen to him without being charmed, but it was quite otherwise
at this moment. Men’s minds were more and more agitated, hearts were
rebellious, the opposition burst forth, voices changed by passion
were heard, and the disturbance of which the chronicler tells filled
the church of St. Gervais. Farel, however, kept the upper hand. His
character and his action awed the rebels. His friends protected his
departure, and he succeeded in reaching his own house unharmed.
Meanwhile Calvin was preaching at St. Peter’s. What was passing there?
[Sidenote: CALVIN’S MORNING SERMON.]
The worship appears to have been quiet and dignified; the scenes of
St. Gervais, at any rate, were not repeated here. The quarter in which
the cathedral stood, its imposing and solemn aspect, the composition
of the congregation, the magistrates, who doubtless were present in
large numbers, the grave countenance of the reformer, partly explain
this decorum. But the character of his speech, calm, simple, rich
in thought, luminous, and illuminating all the subjects of which he
treated, concise, awe-inspiring, and convincing, without the vivid and
popular flashes of Farel, doubtless contributed thereto to a great
extent. Nevertheless Calvin kept back nothing. ‘We protest before
you all,’ he said, ‘that we are not obstinate on the question about
bread, leavened or unleavened; that is a matter of indifference which
is left to the discretion of the Church. If we decline to administer
the supper, it is because we are in a great difficulty which prompts
us to this course.’ Then he spoke of the divisions, the bands of men,
the blasphemies, the profligacies, disorders, abominations, mockery of
God and his Gospel, the troubles and the sects which prevailed in the
town. ‘For,’ he said, ‘in public, and without any kind of punishment
being inflicted for it, a thousand derisive speeches have been uttered
against the Word of God and likewise against the supper.’[635] He then
stated unreservedly the motives which deterred him from celebrating
the communion. But he does not appear to have gone further. He had
doubtless more than once in his discourses transgressed the limits
of moderation; but it seems that the solemnity of the occasion and
the dignity of the pulpit led him to suppress those violent phrases
with which his speech sometimes bristled. He had a difficult task
to accomplish. He was bound to make these people understand the
obligations imposed on them by the profession of Christianity. Every
member of a society has, in fact, certain duties to discharge, which
are essential to the very existence of the community; in the same
way, every member of the Church owes to it an edifying and blameless
life. Christians form but one body, and it is a matter of concern to
each of its members that God should be honored in them all. Evident
hypocrisy and shameless depravity, in any man making profession of
being a Christian, are an injury to the whole Christian society. Union
with God is incompatible with a state of sin; vice and virtue are two
things which never go together. To regard as a trifle and a matter
of indifference the implacable opposition which exists between truth
and falsehood, between holiness and licentiousness, so that the one
or the other may be pursued without any ground for preference, is the
degradation of humanity and the scandal of scandals. If this mode of
thought prevail, the Christian Church is in a state of suffering;
it must be defended, it must be saved; and a Church unwilling to be
defended would be in a very unhealthy condition. More than that, and
Calvin frequently called it to mind, to maintain the necessity of a
life conformed to the Word of God is of importance even to the man
whose conduct is in opposition to his commandments. This necessity is
insisted on not to destroy but to save him. ‘It is maintained in such a
manner,’ said Calvin, ‘as to bring him back into the way of salvation,
and the Church is quite ready to receive him as a friend. She must not
exercise a too rigorous severity; she must not proceed strictly to
extremities and show herself inexorable, but must rather come forward
with gentleness. If this moderation be not carefully adhered to, there
is danger that from correctors we should become executioners.’[636]
These were Calvin’s principles. His discourse has not been handed down
to us, but it is impossible to suppose that he did not speak according
to his deepest convictions; and if he did so, that would partly account
for the calmness with which he was listened to. He was, however,
mistaken on one point, and this we cannot too fully acknowledge. At
that time the Church and the state were everywhere almost confounded,
so that ‘the state did not hesitate to intermeddle in many subjects
which were within the province of the Church.’[637] This was
particularly the case at Geneva. Of all the reformers, Calvin was the
one who had it most at heart to establish the autonomy of the Church,
and thereby a certain independence of the two societies. But, like his
contemporaries, he adhered to the opinions of his own age and of those
which had preceded it. The elements of Judaic discipline had, from the
first century, trenched on the ground of Christian discipline. The
Reformation doubtless effected everywhere a great change in this state
of things; but still the state was seen, even at Geneva, thrusting its
iron arm into the midst of the Christian societies for the purpose of
striking the guilty. That is a coarse and fatal error, one which every
true Christian must energetically cast from him. Fortunately there
could be no question on this point in the great conflict of Easter
1538. The state was then for the moment separated from the Church, and
the reformers did not and would not make use of any other weapons than
those of the Spirit.
[Sidenote: HIS EVENING SERMON.]
If the reformer had been able to preach with tranquillity in the
morning, it was to be otherwise in the evening. The most furious of
his adversaries thought that they owed him something, and in their
wrath meant to discharge the debt. So long as they had had to do
only with the good-natured Farel, matters had gone on pretty well,
notwithstanding his lively sallies; but this young man from Noyon was
a spirit of a different stamp, and since he came to Geneva everything
had changed. He had a methodical intellect and the faculty for
organization. Had he not prepared a fundamental law of the Church, to
which they had been obliged to take the oath at St. Peter’s? He wanted
to regulate everything, and this was not convenient. Since Farel had
been attacked, it was not fair to let Calvin escape. An uproar had
been made in the morning at St. Gervais; another shall be made in the
evening at the church of St. Francis at Rive. It was in that convent
that Farel had for the first time appeared in the pulpit, March 1,
1534; and there Calvin was to preach, April 21, 1538. The quarter in
which this convent stood was situated in the lower part of the town,
not far from the shores of the lake, and it was probably less quiet
than the neighborhood of the cathedral. The church was speedily filled,
and Calvin arrived. He began his sermon. Knowing that Farel had been
treated worse than himself, it is possible that, to leave no ground
for reproaching himself, he might think it his duty to put a stronger
emphasis on his words, and to lay stress on certain things, in order to
make them observed and felt. For the rest, had he spoken like an angel,
he would not have escaped the tumult. Men’s minds were irritated; the
thought of resisting this inflexible man had seized on many, and made
them frantic; they had even taken their swords, and had come to church
as to a military parade. Violence often remains at first smouldering,
silent, and makes no sign. It appears to have been so in this case; but
at some word uttered by the preacher, it revealed itself in a sudden
explosion. One would have said that a stormy wind passed over that
crowd, and impressed on it a passionate movement. In the church of
Rive there were violent speeches and threatening gestures. This was not
all. In sight of that orator, whose dignity and power irritated them,
the most furious drew their swords, and the flash of steel was seen in
the sanctuary of peace. No one, it is true, directed the fatal edge at
the throat of the orator. It appears, however, that a struggle took
place between the friends and the enemies of the Reformation, and that
arms were crossed; for the great magistrate of Geneva in the sixteenth
century, Michel Rozet, felt bound to say in his chronicle that the
affair passed off _without bloodshed_.[638] The syndic Gautier, too,
looks on this fortunate circumstance as _a kind of miracle_. Thus,
after having heard the firing of arquebuses, fifty or sixty times in
the course of the evening, against his own house, the reformer at this
hour saw glittering swords brandished against him in the very house of
God. Luther and other reformers were also tried by such tribulations,
but in their case they came from the pope and his adherents, not from
people of their own Church. Was Calvin agitated, or did he remain calm
in the presence of this outbreak? We do not know. It is probable that,
while inwardly agitated, he preserved an outward calmness. While some
of his friends gathered around the pulpit to defend him, there were
happily found a few moderate men, belonging to both sides, who exerted
themselves to restore peace, to check the outbursts of passion, and
to bring to reason those excited men who were dishonoring by their
violence the temple of the Lord. Gradually feeling calmed down, speech
became less violent, swords were returned to their scabbards, and
the storm was laid. The friends of Calvin accompanied and conducted
him safe and sound to his abode, which was not far off. ‘And in the
evening, at Rive,’ says the syndic Rozet, ‘a disturbance broke out
against Calvin. Swords were drawn; but it was all quelled.’
[Sidenote: DISTURBANCE AT RIVE.]
The same day, after the services, the council met to deliberate on
the occurrences of the day. Twelve members were present, and these
were fully determined to punish, not the factious, but the reformers.
Desirous that their resolutions should be passed by the highest
authorities of the state, they decreed that the Council of the Two
Hundred should assemble the next day, and the general council on the
following day. They could hardly proceed more speedily.
On April 22 the syndics set forth the facts before the Two Hundred,
dwelling particularly on the subject of the bread, although the
ministers had stated that that question had nothing to do with their
resolution. The _bread_ seemed, therefore, to be merely used as a
pretext. The syndics inquired of the Two Hundred whether they wished
to adopt the ritual used at Berne. They replied in the affirmative.
We have seen that the dominant party had obtained a majority in this
council, and by what means they did so. The syndics next complained
that the ministers had preached on Easter Day, although the magistrate
had forbidden it, and they inquired whether they ought not to be
committed to prison. The Two Hundred would not hear of imprisonment;
but, with no less severity, they resolved to interdict the three
ministers, Calvin, Farel, and Courault, from occupying the pulpit in
the churches of the republic, and to order them to leave the city
immediately upon the appointment of their successors. It is remarkable
that, according to the Registers of the council, no mention was made
either of the charges of licentiousness and blasphemy which Farel
and Calvin had made in the pulpit, or of the refusal to celebrate
the supper which had been the consequence. It is easy, however, to
understand this silence. Those charges, were, undoubtedly, the most
important fact in the conflict, and the magistrates, in omitting
them, were straining at the gnat and swallowing the camel. Calvin
said subsequently, but not with reference to this special instance,
‘Hypocrites, while they do not hesitate to give themselves up to
indulgence in the grossest vices, are all the more austere and rigorous
in matters which are of comparatively slight importance; and while
they make pretence in that way of humbling themselves before God, they
proudly insult him to his face.’[639] Licentiousness and blasphemy were
very unpleasant topics, and on them the council was not at all inclined
to dwell. Besides, had these grievances been spoken of, there must have
been an investigation, evidence must have been taken, and witnesses
called; and all this would have been very troublesome, and have taken a
long time. Even if the government had commenced proceedings against the
pastors, to punish them for making those charges, it is very doubtful
whether they would have gained their cause, at least in the judgment
of impartial men. It was a far more simple and expeditious plan to
insist on this single fact, that preaching had been prohibited to the
ministers, and that nevertheless they had preached. This required no
proof, for all the town had seen and heard them. It is quite evident
that it was on this ground they were punished. The council stood on its
right, but it was assuredly a case to which the saying applies, _Summum
jus summa injuria_.[640]
[Sidenote: DENIAL OF JUSTICE.]
After these disorders, these stormy scenes, and the banishment of the
reformers, what was likely to happen? The bond of religion, so powerful
to keep in check criminal desires and actions, being once broken,
would not confusion, already so great, overrun the unhappy city? Would
not the evangelical faith be trampled under foot? Should we not find
Protestants themselves willing to join the mass with the Gospel?
Would not Rome conspire to reintroduce in Geneva ‘the old religion’?
Would not political independence itself be endangered? Would not the
enemies of the Reformation attempt to make some compact with Savoy,
and would not Berne itself, to whose influence Calvin seemed to be
sacrificed, imperil the Genevese liberties? These fears, alas, were
only too well founded! Calvin, who had so rigorously resisted Farel
when the latter pressed him to settle at Geneva, could not now make up
his mind to abandon the place. He wished to remain there to contend
with all his might against the dangers which he saw besetting the
city. ‘We perceived very clearly,’ he said, ‘that in this extremity,
the safety of the Church required that she should not be deprived of
her leaders. We therefore labored to retain our ministry as if it
had been a struggle for our own existence.’[641] Calvin was anxious
at all cost to prevent any overturn or convulsion in the Church and
in the State. He felt the necessity of enlightening the people, of
making them understand the importance of moral conduct, Christian
faith, and cordial union. ‘It appeared to him,’ said he, ‘far easier
to uphold the Church at the moment when she was ready to fall, than
to re-establish her when once she had fallen, and was as good as
lost.’[642] He therefore claimed, and claimed instantly, to be allowed
to give an account of his reasons to the general council. He would
explain everything, and the right side would win. It is unjust to deny
a man accused the opportunity of setting forth the reasons of his
conduct. But all was fruitless. Were the syndics afraid that Calvin
would convince the people, or that the people would insult Calvin? We
cannot decide the point. However it might be, they refused him what
was due to him. It was a denial of justice. They preferred to condemn
him without a hearing. Neither his own representations nor those of his
colleagues were of any avail. Party spirit went so far as to close the
mouth of the most eloquent, the most profound, the most learned, the
most sincere, and the most able man of the age.[643]
The next day, April 23, the general council met in the cloisters of St.
Peter’s to decide the fate of the reformers without having heard them.
Le pire des états, c’est l’état populaire,--
said great men of the seventeenth century.[644] We think
otherwise in the nineteenth. It is nevertheless true that the people
frequently disappoint the expectation formed of them, and deceive
themselves. Every age has presented terrible examples of this. The
people allow themselves to be easily influenced, and they rush headlong
in the footsteps of those whom they have chosen for guides. This was
what took place at Geneva. The syndics inquired of the people whether
they wished to make use of unleavened bread at the supper, as was done
at Berne, ‘without further dispute.’ The majority was in favor of
unleavened bread, although they probably did not very clearly know what
it meant. The syndics then informed the general council ‘that Farel,
Calvin, and their colleagues had refused to obey the command of the
magistrate; and inquired whether they would dismiss them or not.’ The
‘greatest voice,’ that of the majority of the people, in accordance
with the resolution of the Little and the Great Councils, determined
that they must leave the city within the next three days. ‘Thus was
it ordered, the greater number in the council overcoming the better
part.’[645] Such a course adopted against the most eminent men at that
time in Geneva, the only ones whose names have come down to posterity,
and carried out without giving them a hearing, was one of those violent
measures to which bad governments sometimes have recourse--a _coup
d’état_.
[Sidenote: ORDER OF EXPULSION.]
Further, this same council deposed the secretary who had read the
articles of reformation. This secretary was Claude Rozet, who had
received the oath to the confession of faith on the famous day of July
29, 1537. While banishing the three ministers, they wished to inflict
a blow on at least one layman, and they made choice of the man who,
in his official capacity, had established in Geneva the _articles of
reformation_.[646]
Orders were given to make known to the reformers without delay the
decree of the people, and the head usher was appointed, without further
ceremony, to discharge that office. This man, having reached Calvin’s
house, told him that he was enjoined by decree of the general council
‘to preach no more in the town, and to take his departure within the
next three days.’[647] The reformer calmly made answer, ‘If we had
served men, we should certainly be ill repaid; but happily for us we
serve a greater master, who pays servants even what he does not owe
them.’[648] The usher went next to Farel’s house. His reply to the
announcement was, ‘Well and good; it is well, it is from God.’ In
these words of the reformers there is a peace, firmness, and grandeur
of soul which immediately strike those who read them, which some
historians have called heroic,[649] and which no one has a right to
call feigned.[650] Meanwhile the council was busied with other matters.
The sorrow of Calvin, however, was deep. Feeling how great had been the
goodness of God to him, he desired to be grateful for it. ‘Assuredly,’
he said, ‘no small honor has been conferred on us, in that a leader so
mighty--Jesus Christ--has placed us in the ranks of his servants. We
are therefore the most unthankful of men if we do not devote ourselves
entirely to his service.’[651] He had devoted himself to that work,
and the voice of conscience told him that he must give account of
every soul lost. Successes had from time to time gladdened his soul.
‘Nevertheless,’ he said with sadness and alarm after his banishment,
‘seditions occurred in the town, one after another, which caused us
grief and agitation of no light order. And however timid, weak, and
spiritless I confess myself to be by nature, I had, nevertheless, from
the first beginnings to bear up against those impetuous waves.[652] I
cannot express what trouble and distress filled my heart night and day;
and every time that I think of it I still inwardly tremble.’ It was not
only the recollection of the past that was grievous, but still more the
prospect of the future; of the evils which might fall on Geneva, and of
the great injury which might be done to the Reformation if the torch,
which ought to cast its rays all around on France, on Italy, and on
other lands, should be miserably extinguished. This was burden enough
to weigh down the strongest soul.
On April 25th Courault was set at liberty, and on the following day,
probably, the three pastors quitted Geneva.
[Sidenote: A PREDICTION OF BONIVARD.]
[Sidenote: JOY AND GRIEF.]
Thus was fulfilled a prophecy of Bonivard, uttered ten years before. It
will be remembered that in 1528 some of the Genevese, who were desirous
of the Reformation only that they might get rid of the priests, with
their vices and their superstitions, having declared to the prior
of the depraved ecclesiastics of St. Victor that they wished to put
in their place ministers of the Gospel who would introduce a true
Christian Reformation, Bonivard replied to them, ‘If you wish to reform
others, ought you not in the first place to reform yourselves? Animals
that live on the same meat naturally hate one another. It is just the
same with us. We are unchaste; so are you. We are drunkards; you are
the same. We are swearers, blasphemers; so are you. You want to drive
us away, you say, to put Lutheran ministers in our place.... Gentlemen,
take great care what you undertake to do. According to their doctrine,
a man will be prohibited from gaming and from giving himself up to
debauchery, and that under a heavy penalty. How that will vex you! You
will not have had them for two years before you will regret us.’[653]
Bonivard spoke candidly and even rudely, but his words fully confirm
the testimony and the complaints of Calvin, of Farel, and of Rozet.
It is all true, even to the time fixed by the prior--_not two years_.
Farel and Calvin undoubtedly showed themselves in this business subject
to human weaknesses. As they were both men of strong character, they
easily stimulated each other to an inflexibility to which they were
naturally inclined. Calvin himself tells us that the prudent Bucer,
at a later period, wished that they should not live together, lest
the influence which they had over each other should be hurtful to
them.[654] They have said themselves that they might have displayed
more gentleness. But it is impossible not to acknowledge that they did
what fidelity to the Gospel demanded of them. The question about the
bread was a little pennant raised by the councils, in opposition to
the great evangelical banner courageously borne by Calvin and Farel.
The two classes of combatants in this warm affair were representatives
of two systems which not only bore no resemblance to each other but
were diametrically opposed. If the reformers had given way, the great
cause of religion and of morals would have been injured, the dignity
of their ministry lowered, and their activity for the extension of
the kingdom of God in Geneva fettered, perhaps rendered impossible.
Their compliance in such a case would have been not only blameworthy,
it would have been blamed. It was for them the question of ‘To be or
not to be.’ They were bound to strive to win the victory; and if they
failed to conquer, then they were bound to suffer as witnesses to the
rejected truth. They had neglected no means of scaling the citadel,
and of planting on it their noble flag. They had failed, and it only
remained for them to retreat, conquered and yet in reality conquerors;
for they had not drawn back one step in the battle, and had thus
prepared the day of triumph. Leaving behind them the city, with its
tumult, its menaces, insults, and deeds of violence, Farel and Calvin
set out for Berne. It was at the end of April. As they passed along
the shores of the lake in the midst of the beautiful and peaceful
scenes of nature, they felt greatly relieved. Escaped from those narrow
walls within which their hearts had been torn with grief and broken
with sadness, they once more breathed freely. A pure and keen air was
around them instead of that heavy and thick atmosphere, and it gave
them new life. ‘When, on occasion of certain troubles, I was driven
away,’ said Calvin, ‘I did not find in myself such magnanimity as not
to rejoice more than was meet--that then and by that means I was at
liberty.’[655] There was in him, however, no murmuring, no bitterness.
He had learnt many lessons in the midst of that agitation, especially
that of self-renunciation. ‘As soon as one becomes a self-seeker,’ he
said at that period, ‘contests begin: the true principle of action
for a soldier is to lay aside all pride, and to depend entirely on
the will of his chief.’[656] The will of his chief was that he should
quit Geneva, and he quitted it; in this very dependence realizing the
highest independence. Stripped and wounded, like the man who went
down to Jericho, he felt the Lord near him, who bound up his wounds
and poured in oil and wine. ‘Let us remember,’ said he further, ‘that
declaration of Jesus Christ, that no one can inflict a wound on one of
his little ones but he regards it as inflicted on himself.’[657] Then
glancing towards the friends to whom they were going, ‘We have turned
towards you, brethren,’ said he, ‘towards you who have been set to feed
the churches of Christ, under the influence of the Holy Spirit. Ah! if
it be under the guidance of the same prince, against the same enemy,
in the same war, and in the same camp that we fight, shall we not be
greatly stimulated in our endeavor after agreement and harmony?’[658]
He did not lose courage even with respect to the Reformation. ‘The
Church,’ he said, ‘is not wearied, distressed, or overthrown by
these struggles and fightings; on the contrary, she derives strength
from them, she begins to flourish, she is consolidated by new
developments.’[659] Such, indeed, was the fruit borne by this great
trial. ‘Events have shown,’ said Theodore Beza, ‘that the providence
of God appointed these dispensations, to the end that his servant, by
means of various experience, might be fitted for greater things; and
that while seditious men destroy themselves by their own violence, the
Church of Geneva might be purified from all stains.’[660]
Poor blind Courault did not feel strong enough to follow his two
colleagues, and therefore took refuge with Fabri, who was pastor at
Thonon, on the lake of Geneva.