CHAPTER I.

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Small capitals have been replaced by full capitals.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.