*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 65984 ***

                                HISTORY

                                OF THE

                         REFORMATION IN EUROPE

                        IN THE TIME OF CALVIN.

                                  BY

                      J. H. MERLE D’AUBIGNE, D.D.

                             TRANSLATED BY

                         WILLIAM L. B. CATES,

  JOINT AUTHOR OF WOODWARD AND CATES’S ‘ENCYCLOPÆDIA OF CHRONOLOGY,’
         EDITOR OF ‘THE DICTIONARY OF GENERAL BIOGRAPHY,’ 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. VI.
                    SCOTLAND, SWITZERLAND, GENEVA.

                               NEW YORK:
                       ROBERT CARTER & BROTHERS,
                             530 BROADWAY
                                 1877.




                               PREFACE.


The author of the _History of the Reformation in the Sixteenth Century_
died at Geneva, 21 October, 1872, when only a few chapters remained to
be written to complete his great work. Feeling, as he often said, that
_time was short for him now_ (he was not far from his eightieth year),
and stimulated by the near prospect of the end towards which he had
been incessantly straining for fifty years, he worked on with redoubled
ardor. ‘I count the minutes,’ he used to say; and he allowed himself no
rest. Unhappily the last minutes were refused him, and the work was not
finished. But only a small portion is wanting; and the manuscripts of
which the publication is continued in the present volume will bring the
narration almost to its close.

Ten volumes have appeared. It was the author’s intention to comprise
the remainder of his history in two additional volumes. He had sketched
his programme on a sheet of paper as follows:--


                           ‘WITH GOD’S HELP.

   ‘Order of subjects, saving diminution or enlargement,
   according to the extent of each.

   ‘Vol. XI. to the death of Luther.

    ‘Scotland down to 1546.
    ‘Denmark.
    ‘Sweden.
    ‘Bohemia and Moravia.
    ‘Poland.
    ‘Hungary.
    ‘Geneva, Switzerland, and Calvin.
    ‘Germany, to death of Luther, 1546.

   ‘Vol. XII. to the death of Calvin.

    ‘Netherlands, 1566.
    ‘Spain.
    ‘Italy.
    ‘Scotland down to 1560.
    ‘England, to the Articles of 1552.
    ‘Germany, 1556.
    ‘France, 1559.
    ‘Calvin and his work in Geneva and in Christendom to his death,
       1564.

The numerous manuscripts left by M. MERLE D’AUBIGNÉ include
all the articles set out in the programme as intended to form Vol. XI.
(VI. of the second series), and three of the articles destined for Vol.
XII., the first two and the fifth.

The work will undoubtedly present important gaps. Nevertheless, the
great period, the period of origination, will have been described
almost completely. But there is one chapter which it is very much to be
regretted that he has not written. That is the last, relating to the
work and the influence of Calvin in Christendom. The man who for fifty
years had lived in close intercourse with Calvin, who had made his
writings, his works, and his person the objects of his continual study,
and had become impregnated with his spirit more, perhaps, than any one
in our age; the man who was the first to hold in his hand, to read
without intermission, and to analyze almost all the innumerable pieces
that proceeded from the pen of the reformer, would have been able to
trace for us with unrivalled authority the grand figure of his hero,
and to describe the immense influence which he had on the sixteenth
century, in distant regions as well as in his immediate circle. The
absence of this concluding chapter, which the author had projected
and which he long meditated but still delayed to write, remains an
irreparable loss.

The editors (M. le pasteur ADOLPHE DUCHEMIN, son-in-law of the
eminent historian, and M. E. BINDER, Professor of _Exegesis_
at the Theological College of Geneva, colleague and friend of M.
Merle d’Aubigné) have confined themselves to verifying the numerous
quotations scattered through the text, to testing the accuracy of
the references given in the notes, and to curtailing here and there
developments which the author would assuredly have removed if he had
edited the work himself. As the matters proposed to form Vol. XI. are
sufficient to form two volumes and even to commence a third, it has
been necessary to alter the arrangement indicated above.

The division of the narrative into chapters, and the titles given to
the chapters, are for the most part the work of the editors.

Two other volumes are to follow the one now presented to the public.

   GENEVA _April, 1875_.




                               CONTENTS

                                  OF

                           THE SIXTH VOLUME.


                                                                   PAGE

    INTRODUCTION                                                      v

                                BOOK X.

                     THE REFORMATION IN SCOTLAND.

                              CHAPTER I.

                        PREPARATION OF REFORM.

              (FROM THE SECOND CENTURY TO THE YEAR 1522.)

    Religion the Key to History--The same Life everywhere produced by
    the Divine Spirit--Three successive Impulses: the Culdees,
    Wickliffe, John Huss--Struggle between Royalty and the
    Nobility--John Campbell, Laird of Cessnock--Charged with
    Heresy--Acquitted by the King--Battle of Flodden--Death of
    James IV.--Episcopal Election in Scotland--Alesius--Patrick
    Hamilton--John Knox--Troubles during the Minority of the
    King--Young Hamilton at the University of Paris--Becomes acquainted
    with the Lutheran Reformation                                     1

                              CHAPTER II.

                 BEGINNING OF THE MOVEMENT OF REFORM.

                         (1522 TO APRIL 1527.)

    John Mayor Professor at Glasgow--Patrick Hamilton at University of
    St. Andrews--Luther’s Writings introduced into
    Scotland--Prohibited by the Parliament--Character of the young
    King--James V. declared of Age--Sides with the
    Priests--The Clerical Party overcome--Tyndale’s New Testament
    circulated--Evangelical Doctrines preached by Patrick
    Hamilton--Renewed Influence of Archbishop Beatoun--Hamilton
    declared a Heretic--Cited before the Archbishop--Escapes to the
    Continent                                                        18

                             CHAPTER III.

         DEDICATION OF HAMILTON IN GERMANY TO THE REFORMATION
                             OF SCOTLAND.

                  (SPRING, SUMMER, AND AUTUMN, 1527.)

    Hamilton at Marburg--His Introduction to Lambert
    d’Avignon--University of Marburg--Science and Faith--Hamilton’s
    Study of the Scriptures--Reason for his not visiting
    Wittenberg--Luther’s Illness--The Plague at Wittenberg--Hamilton’s
    Disputation at Marburg--His Theses--The Attack and the
    Defence--Hamilton’s new Theses--The pith of Theology in
    them--Hamilton’s Return to Scotland                              30

                              CHAPTER IV.

        EVANGELIZATION, TRIBULATIONS AND SUCCESS OF HAMILTON IN
                               SCOTLAND.

                (END OF 1527 TO END OF FEBRUARY 1528.)

    The New Testament proscribed--Hamilton’s Zeal--Reception of the
    Gospel by his Kinsfolk--His Preaching near Kincavil--Eagerness
    of Crowds to hear him--His Marriage--Plot of the Priests against
    his Life--Summoned to St. Andrews by the Archbishop--His increased
    Zeal--Snares laid for him by the Priests--His Disputation with
    Alesius--Conversion of Alesius to the Truth--Hamilton betrayed
    by Alexander Campbell--Hamilton’s Death determined on--The King
    removed out of the Way--Attempt of Sir James Hamilton to save his
    Brother--Armed Resistance of the Archbishop                      42

                              CHAPTER V.

           APPEARANCE, CONDEMNATION, MARTYRDOM OF HAMILTON.

                   (END OF FEBRUARY-MARCH 1, 1528.)

    Hamilton’s Appearance before the Episcopal Council--His
    Heresies--His Answer--Attempt of Andrew Duncan to rescue
    him--Hamilton confined in the Castle--The Inquisitorial
    Court--Hamilton in the Presence of his Judges--Debates--Insults--His
    Sentence--Preparation of Execution--Hamilton at the Stake--Vexed and
    insulted by Campbell--Hamilton’s Family and Native Land--Duration of
    his Sufferings--The two Hamiltons                                56

                              CHAPTER VI.

                               ALESIUS.

                    (FEBRUARY 1528 TO END OF 1531.)

    The ‘Crowns of the Martyrs’--Various Feelings excited about the
    Martyr--Escape of the King from his Keepers--The Reins of Government
    seized by James V.--Victory of the Priests--Alesius confirmed by
    death of Hamilton--His discourse before Provincial Synod--His
    imprisonment in a Dungeon--Order of the King to liberate
    him--Stratagem of Prior Hepburn--Removal of Alesius to a fouler
    Dungeon--Plot of the Prior against his Life--Scheme of the Canons
    for his Escape--His Flight by Night--Pursuit by the Prior--His
    Flight to Germany                                                70

                             CHAPTER VII.

          CONFESSORS OF THE GOSPEL AND MARTYRS MULTIPLIED IN
                               SCOTLAND.

                        (END OF 1531 TO 1534.)

    Conspiracy of the Nobles against the Priests--Their Compact with
    Henry VIII.--Intrigues of the Romish Party--Alexander Seaton,
    Confessor to the King--His boldness--His Flight to England--Letter
    of Alesius to the King--Reply of Cochlæus--Henry Forrest--His
    Degradation--His Execution--David Straiton, of Lauriston--His
    Conversion--His Trial--And Martyrdom--Trial of Catherine
    Hamilton--Flight of Evangelicals from Scotland                   84

                             CHAPTER VIII.

         BREACH OF THE KING OF SCOTLAND WITH ENGLAND--ALLIANCE
                      WITH FRANCE AND THE GUISES.

                            (1534 TO 1539.)

    Alliance of James V. sought by Henry VIII.--Failure--New attempts
    of Henry VIII.--Thomas Forrest--His fidelity--His Interview with
    the Bishop of Dunkeld--Discontent of the People--Negotiations at
    Rome--Marriage of James V. with Madeleine of Valois--Death of the
    young Queen--Second Marriage of the King with Mary of Lorraine   99

                              CHAPTER IX.

          INFLUENCE OF DAVID BEATOUN PREDOMINANT--REVIVAL OF
                             PERSECUTION.

                                (1539.)

    Cardinal David Beatoun--His complete Control of the King--War on
    the Rich--The Ransom of Balkerley--Numerous
    Imprisonments--Scotland watched by Henry VIII.--Killon’s
    audacious Drama--Trial of Killon and Thomas Forrest--Their
    Execution--Buchanan in Prison--His Escape--Kennedy and Jerome
    Russel--Their Imprisonment--Trial--Courage--And Martyrdom       110

                              CHAPTER X.

         TERGIVERSATIONS OF JAMES V.--NEGOTIATIONS WITH HENRY
                         VIII.--THEIR FAILURE.

                            (1540 TO 1542.)

    Changed Inclination of the King of Scotland--His Censure of the
    Bishops--Cleverness of the Cardinal--Colloquies of Bishops at St.
    Andrews--Return of the King to the side of Rome--Birth of his
    Son--Birth of a second Son--His Remorse--A Dream--Death of his two
    Sons--Fresh Attempts of Henry VIII.--Project of an Interview at
    York--Journey of the King of England to York--Efforts of the
    Bishops to prevent the Interview--Absence of James V. from the
    Rendezvous                                                      124

                              CHAPTER XI.

         WAR BETWEEN ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND.--DEATH OF JAMES V.

                                (1542.)

    Anger of Henry VIII.--Skirmishes--Fears of James V.--Aim of Henry
    VIII.--The Crown of Scotland--Invasion of Scotland by Duke of
    Norfolk--Refusal of the Scottish Army to march--Proscription List
    drawn up by the Bishops--Their Alliance with the King--Levy of a
    new Army by Bishops--Oliver Sinclair named
    Commander-in-Chief--Disgraceful Rout--Anxiety of James V.--His
    Dejection--His Despair--Birth of Mary Stuart--Death of the King 136

                             CHAPTER XII.

      REGENCY OF EARL OF ARRAN.--IMPRISONMENT OF BEATOUN.--TREATY
                        OF PEACE WITH ENGLAND.

                         (1542 TO MARCH 1543.)

    Ambition of Beatoun--Pretended Will of the King--Assembly of the
    Nobles--Earl of Arran proclaimed Regent--Evangelicals associated
    with him--The two Chaplains--Projects of Henry
    VIII.--Negotiations--Arrest of the Cardinal--Results of this
    Act--Scotland laid under Interdict--Parliament of Edinburgh--The
    Scriptures in the Vulgar Tongue--Debates on the Subject--Freedom
    of the Scriptures--General Rejoicing--Treaty with
    England--Confirmation of the Treaty                             151

                             CHAPTER XIII.

        LIBERATION OF BEATOUN--HIS SEIZURE OF POWER--BREACH OF
                    THE TREATY--FRESH PERSECUTIONS.

                     (MARCH 1543 TO SUMMER 1544.)

    The Ultramontane Party--The Abbot of Paisley--Liberation of the
    Cardinal--His Intrigues--Insults offered to the English
    Ambassador--Refusal of the Regent to deliver the
    Hostages--Armed Gatherings--Weakness of the Regent--His Abjuration
    before the Cardinal--Coronation of Mary Stuart--Declaration of War
    in Scotland by Henry VIII.--Earl of Lennox--Triumph of the
    Cardinal--William Anderson, Hellen Stirke, James Raveleson, and
    Robert Lamb--Sentence of death passed on them--Fruitless
    Intercession--Affecting Death of Hellen Stirke--The English Fleet
    at Leith--Landing of the English Army--Capture and Pillage of
    Edinburgh--Plans of Henry VIII. postponed                       166

                             CHAPTER XIV.

               WISHART--HIS MINISTRY AND HIS MARTYRDOM.

                    (SUMMER OF 1544 TO MARCH 1546.)

    Preaching of Wishart at Dundee--The Churches closed against
    him--Open-air Preaching--The Plague of Dundee--Wishart’s Return
    thither--Attempt of a Priest to Assassinate him--Snares laid for
    him--His Announcement of his approaching Death--Wishart joined by
    Knox--Approach of Wishart to Edinburgh--His redoubled
    Zeal--Desertion of his Friends--His last Preaching--His
    Arrest--Given up to the Cardinal--His Trial opposed by the
    Regent--Persistence of the Cardinal--The Ecclesiastical Court--The
    Accuser Lauder--Insults--Calumnies--Condemnation--Refusal of the
    Sacrament--A true Supper--Wishart’s Address to the People--His
    Martyrdom                                                       185

                              CHAPTER XV.

                CONSPIRACY AGAINST BEATOUN--HIS DEATH.

                         (MARCH TO MAY 1546.)

    Triumph of the Cardinal--Conspiracy of his Enemies--Meeting of the
    Conspirators at St. Andrews--Seizure of the Castle--The Cardinal’s
    Servants driven away--Murder of Beatoun--Wishart’s Sentence--Siege
    of the Castle--Capitulation of the Conspirators--Grounds of the
    Triumph of the Reformation in Scotland--Two Kings and Two
    Kingdoms--Priest and Pastor                                     207


                               BOOK XI.

               CALVIN AND THE PRINCIPLES OF HIS REFORM.

                              CHAPTER I.

               CALVIN AT GENEVA AND IN THE PAYS DE VAUD.

                                (1536.)

    Geneva prepared for its Part--Calvin--His Desire for
    Retirement--Reader in Holy Scripture--Calvin’s Teaching--Authorship
    of Discipline--Application of Discipline before Calvin--Doctrine of
    Jesus Christ the Soul of the Church--Calvin and the Huguenots--His
    Engagement with the Council of Geneva--His Name not mentioned--The
    Gospel in the Pays de Vaud--Viret at Lausanne--Images--Two Masses a
    Week--Notice of a great Disputation--Prohibited by the
    Emperor--Convoked by Council of Berne--Indecision of the Townsmen
    of Lausanne                                                     219

                              CHAPTER II.

                     THE DISPUTATION OF LAUSANNE.

                            (OCTOBER 1536.)

    The Champions of the two Parties--Preparations of the two
    Parties--Ten Theses of Farel--His Discourse--Opening of the
    Disputation--Protest of the Canons--Farel’s Reply--Doctor
    Blancherose--The Vicar Drogy--Justification by Faith--The Church
    and the Scriptures--Caroli--The Real Presence--Testimony of the
    Fathers--Calvin--His Statement of the Doctrine of the
    Fathers--Christ’s Mortal Body and his Glorified Body--The Body and
    the Blood--The Spiritual Presence of Christ--Conversion of Jean
    Tandy--His Monastic Dress put off--The last Theses--The Trinity of
    Doctor Blancherose--Lent--Ignorance of the Priests--Calvin and
    Hildebrand--Closing Discourse by Farel--Jesus Christ and not the
    Pope--Salvation not in Outward Things--Appeal to the
    Priests--Address to the Lords of Berne                          235

                             CHAPTER III.

             EXTENSION OF THE REFORM IN THE PAYS DE VAUD.

                            (END OF 1536.)

    Moral Reform at Lausanne--Images--Alarm of the Canons--Removal of
    Images ordered by Berne--Success of the Disputation at
    Lausanne--Reformation decreed at Lausanne--Caroli first
    Pastor--Reformation at Vevey--At Lutry--Farel’s Search for
    Evangelical Ministers--Ministers of the Pays de Vaud--Formula of
    the Lords of Berne--Unworthy Ministers--Edict of
    Reformation--Departure of Priests and Monks--Conference at
    Geneva                                                          260

                              CHAPTER IV.

          THE REFORMATION AT GENEVA.--FORMULARY OF FAITH AND
                              DISCIPLINE.

                        (END OF 1536 TO 1537.)

    Liberty and Authority--Calvin Pastor at Geneva--The Christian
    Individual and the Christian Community--Analysis and
    Synthesis--Division among the Huguenots--Catechism and Confession
    of Faith--Calvin’s real Mind--Diversity of Religious Opinions--Need
    of Unity--Presentation of the Confession to the
    Council--Characteristics of the Confession--Its Authorship assigned
    to Calvin--Frequent Communion--Discipline of Excommunication--The
    true Beginning of a Church--Lay Intervention--Various
    Regulations--Discipline approved by the Council--The Syndic
    Porral--Distribution of the Confession--Its Acceptance required of
    each Citizen--Assembly of the People at St. Peter’s Church--Swearing
    of the Confession--Refusal of many to Swear it--The three Pastors of
    Geneva--The Schools--Activity of the
    Reformers--Discipline--Description of Geneva                    274

                              CHAPTER V.

       CALVIN’S CONTEST WITH FOREIGN DOCTORS--CHARGE OF ARIANISM
                         BROUGHT AGAINST HIM.

                        (JANUARY TO JUNE 1537.)

    Arrived of the Spirituals at Geneva--Their System--Public
    Disputation--Expulsion of the Spirituals--Caroli--His Ambition and
    his Morals--Prayers for the Dead--Scholasticism--Consistory of
    Lausanne--Charge of Arianism against Calvin--His Vindication
    necessary--Calvin’s Reply--His view on the Trinity--Accusation of
    Farel and Viret by Caroli--Convocation of a Synod resolved
    on--Farel’s Anxiety--Synod at Lausanne--Another Debate on the
    Trinity--Unmasking of Caroli by Calvin--The Divinity of Christ--The
    Tyranny of Creeds rejected by Calvin--The so-called Athanasian
    Creed--Condemnation of Caroli by the Synod--Appeal to
    Berne--Agitation of Men’s Minds--Accusation of Caroli--His
    Condemnation--His Flight to France                              299

                              CHAPTER VI.

                     CALVIN AT THE SYNOD OF BERNE.

                           (SEPTEMBER 1537.)

    Disputation on the Lord’s Supper--The Doctrine of Zwingli at
    Berne--Acceptance of the Doctrine of Luther there--A patched-up
    Peace--Synod of September--Opinions of Bucer--Attacks of
    Megander--Growing Dissension--Intervention of Calvin--His Project
    of a Formula of Concord--The Tumult allayed                     323

                             CHAPTER VII.

           THE CONFESSION OF FAITH SWORN TO AT ST. PETER’S.

                            (END OF 1537.)

    Various Acts of Discipline--Parties at Geneva--Division amongst the
    Huguenots--Coercion in matter of Faith--Requirement of Oath to the
    Confession--Numerous Opponents--Decree of Banishment--Power of the
    Malcontents--Imprudence of the Bernese Deputies--The General
    Council--Discourse of the Syndics--The Leaders of Opposition
    silenced--Violent Attack on the Syndics--Tumultuous Debate--Confused
    Complaints--Growing Opposition--Vindication of the
    Reformers--Accusation against them by Berne--Their Vindication at
    Berne--Complete Justice done them                               333

                             CHAPTER VIII.

                          TROUBLES AT GENEVA.

                         (BEGINNING OF 1538.)

    Agitation--The Lord’s Supper--Nature of the Church--Communicants
    and Hearers--The Supper open to all--Disorders--Louis du
    Tillet--His Return to the Church of Rome--Parties face to face with
    each other--Menaces--No Freedom without Religion--Election of new
    Syndics--Their Hostility to Calvin--Moderation of their first
    Measures--Misleading Effects of Party Spirit--Exclusion of
    Evangelicals from the Councils--Censure of the Ministers by the
    Councils--Resistance of the Reformers--‘I can do no otherwise’  350

                              CHAPTER IX.

                STRUGGLES AT BERNE.--SYNOD OF LAUSANNE.

                            (JANUARY 1538.)

    Expulsion of Megander from Berne--Remonstrance of Country
    Pastors--Pacification--Calvin’s Regret for the Banishment of
    Megander--Hostility of Kunz to Calvin--Relations between Church and
    State--Variety of Usages at Geneva and at Berne--Synod at
    Lausanne--A strange Condition--Absence of Calvin and Farel from the
    Synod--Adoption by the Synod of the usages of Berne--Fruitless
    Conference--Letters from the Lords of Berne to Calvin and Farel and
    to the Council of Geneva                                        366

                              CHAPTER X.

         SUCCESS OF THE COUNTER-REFORMATION--REFUSAL OF CALVIN
        AND FAREL TO ADMINISTER THE LORD’S SUPPER--PROHIBITION
                          OF THEIR PREACHING.

                        (MARCH AND APRIL 1538.)

    The Pulpit interdicted to Courault--Adoption by the Council of the
    Usages of Berne--Resistance of Calvin--Disorders in the
    Streets--Indignation of Courault--His Sermon at St. Peter’s--His
    Imprisonment--His Liberation demanded by the Reformers--Refusal of
    the Council--Loud Complaints--The Pulpit interdicted to Calvin and
    Farel--What to do?--General Confusion--Perplexity of the
    Reformers--Indifference of Forms--The Supper a Feast of
    Peace--Divisions and Violence of Parties--Administration of the
    Supper given up--Determination of the Reformers to
    preach--Heroism                                                 376

                              CHAPTER XI.

           PREACHING OF CALVIN AND FAREL IN DEFIANCE OF THE
           PROHIBITION BY THE COUNCIL--THEIR BANISHMENT FROM
                                GENEVA.

                             (APRIL 1538.)

    Great Distress of mind--Easter Sunday--Farel’s Preaching at St.
    Gervais--Disorders in the Church--Calvin’s preaching at St.
    Peter’s--Statement of his Motives--The Church a Holy Body--A quiet
    Hearing given him--His Sermon at Rive--Great Disorder--Swords
    drawn--Deliberation of the Councils--Proposal to expel the
    Ministers--Denial of Justice--Expulsion voted by the General
    Council--Calvin’s Reply--Farel’s Reply--Departure of the Ministers
    from Geneva--A Prophecy of Bonivard--Journey of Farel and Calvin to
    Berne--Joy and Sorrow                                           393

                             CHAPTER XII.

          GREAT CONFUSION AT GENEVA--USELESS INTERVENTION OF
                         THE COUNCIL OF BERNE.

                         (END OF APRIL 1538.)

    Ridicule and Sarcasm--The New Ministers--Their Incompetency--Arrival
    of the Reformers at Berne--Their appearance before the
    Council--Their Grievances--Excitement in the Council of
    Berne--Letter of the Council to Geneva--Reply of the Council of
    Geneva                                                          412

                             CHAPTER XIII.

           SYNOD OF ZURICH--CALVIN RECONDUCTED TO GENEVA BY
           BERNESE AMBASSADORS--REFUSAL TO ADMIT HIM TO THE
                                 TOWN.

                  (END OF APRIL TO END OF MAY 1538.)

    Farel and Calvin at Zurich--Their Claims--Their Moderation--Their
    Humility--The Justice of their Cause--Their approval by Synod of
    Zurich--Letter of the Synod to Geneva--Hostility of Kunz--His
    Wrath--His Accusations--Hesitation of Berne to intervene--Justice
    prevails--Embassy from Berne--Excitement at Geneva--Stoppage of
    Calvin and Farel at Genthod--The General Council--Favorable
    Appearances--Treachery of Kunz--Pierre Vandel--Passionate
    Excitement--Vote of the General Council--The Opponents--The
    Minority                                                        420

                             CHAPTER XIV.

           BANISHMENT OF THE MINISTERS--THEIR SUCCESSORS AT
                                GENEVA.

                            (END OF 1538.)

    Licentiousness--Journey of Calvin and Farel to Berne--Journey to
    Basel--Their Reception there--Their Vindication--Hesitation as to
    Choice of a Post--Rivalry between Basel and Strasburg in seeking
    for Calvin--Farel called to Neuchâtel--Settlement of Calvin at
    Strasburg--Death of Courault--Calvin’s Grief--The new Ministers of
    Geneva--Calvin’s Opinion of them--Discontent--Accusations--The
    Complaints not unfounded--Calvin’s Letter to Christians of
    Geneva--His Advice--Farel’s Letter--His deep Sadness            439

                              CHAPTER XV.

                         STRASBURG AND GENEVA.

                        (END OF 1538 TO 1539.)

    Calvin at Strasburg--Widening of his Horizon--Calvin a Pastor--His
    spiritual Joy--Calvin a Doctor--Treatise on the Lord’s
    Supper--Theological Debates--Calvin’s Poverty--Death of
    Olivétan--Calvin’s Courage--Despotism at Geneva--Purification--The
    Regents of the College--Their Banishment--Difficulty of finding
    Substitutes--The Friends of the Reformers--Prosecutions--New
    Syndics--Suppression of Disorders--Conference at Frankfort--Calvin
    at Frankfort--His intercourse with Melanchthon--On the Supper and
    on Discipline--On Ceremonies of Worship--Melanchthon called to
    Henry VIII.--Calvin’s opinion of Henry VIII.--Calvin’s Return to
    Strasburg                                                       456

                             CHAPTER XVI.

                CALVIN’S CORRESPONDENCE WITH SADOLETO.

                                (1539.)

    Colloquy of Bishops at Lyons--Cardinal Sadoleto--His Letter to the
    Genevese--Its Portraiture of the Reformers--Its Conclusion--Delivery
    of his Letter to the Council--Immediate Consequences--An important
    Step towards Rome--Two Martyrs in Savoy--Calvin’s Reply to
    Sadoleto--Reason for his replying--Separation of the
    Church--Christian Antiquity--Justification by Faith--The Judgment
    Seat of God--Defence of Calvin--His first Faith--His Resistance--His
    Conversion--Who tears to Pieces the Spouse of Christ--To whom
    Dissensions are to be imputed--Luther’s Joy--Copy received at
    Geneva--Caroli--His End                                         478

                             CHAPTER XVII.

        CATHOLICISM AT GENEVA--MARRIAGE OF CALVIN AT STRASBURG.

                          (END OF 1539-1540.)

    Citation of Priests before the Council--Their Attitude--The former
    Syndic Balard--His Courage--His Abjuration--Calvin’s Thoughts on
    Geneva--His household Cares--His Desire to Marry--Various
    Projects--Hesitation--Idelette de Bure--Marriage--Catherine von
    Bora and Idelette de Bure--Second Assembly at Hagenau--Nothing
    done                                                            499

                            CHAPTER XVIII.

                  GENEVA--DISSENSIONS AND SEVERITIES.

                                (1540.)

    Conflict between Berne and Geneva--Treaty with Berne--The
    _Articulants_--Refusal of Geneva to ratify the Treaty--Judgment
    given at Lausanne--Indignation at Geneva--Prosecution of the
    Articulants--Their Condemnation--Jean Philippe Captain-General--His
    Irritation--Riot excited by him--His Defeat--His Arrest--His
    Condemnation to Death--Death of Richardet--A Prediction of
    Calvin--The Ways of God                                         512




                                HISTORY

                                OF THE

                         REFORMATION IN EUROPE

                        IN THE TIME OF CALVIN.




                                BOOK X.

                     THE REFORMATION IN SCOTLAND.




                              CHAPTER I.

                        PREPARATION OF REFORM.

               (FROM THE 2ND CENTURY TO THE YEAR 1522.)


History is of various kinds. It may be literary, philosophical,
political, or religious; the last entering most deeply into the inmost
facts of our being. The political historian will sometimes disclose
the hidden mysteries of the cabinets of princes, will fathom their
counsels, unveil their intrigues, and snatch their secrets from a
Cæsar, a Charles V., a Napoleon, while human nature in its loftiest
aspects remains inaccessible to them. The inward power of conscience,
which not seldom impels a man to act in a way opposed to the rules of
policy and to the requirements of self-interest, the great spiritual
evolutions of humanity, the sacrifices of missionaries and of martyrs,
are for them covered with a veil. It is the Gospel alone which gives
us the key of these mysteries, so that there remain in history, even
for the most able investigators, enigmas which appear insoluble. How
is it that schemes conceived with indisputable cleverness fail? How is
it that enterprises which seem insane succeed? They cannot tell. No
matter, they keep on their way, they pass into other regions and leave
behind them territories which have not been explored.

This is to be regretted, for the historian ought to embrace in his
survey the whole field of human affairs. He must, of course, take
into consideration the earthly powers which bear sway in the world,
ambition, despotism, liberty; but he ought to mark also the heavenly
powers which religion reveals. The living God must not be excluded from
the world which He created. Man must not stop in his contemplations
at elementary molecules, nor even at political influences, but must
raise himself to this first principle, as Clement of Alexandria named
it,--this existence, the idea of which is immediate, original, springs
from no other, but is necessarily presupposed in all thought.

God, who renews the greenness of our pastures, who makes the corn come
forth out of the bosom of the earth, and covers the trees with blossoms
and with fruit, does not abandon the souls of men. The God of the whole
visible creation is much more the light and the strength of souls, for
one of these is more precious in his sight than all the universe. The
Creator, who every spring brings forth out of the winter’s ice and cold
a nature full of life, smiling with light and adorned with flowers, can
assuredly produce, when it pleases Him, a spiritual springtide in the
heart of a torpid and frozen humanity. The Divine Spirit is the sap
which infuses into barren souls the vivifying juices of heaven. The
world has not seldom been like a desert in which all life seemed to be
extinct; and yet, in those periods apparently so arid, subterranean
currents were yielding sustenance here and there to solitary plants;
and at the hour fixed by Divine providence the living water has gushed
forth abundantly to reanimate perishing humanity. Such was the case in
the two greatest ages of history, that of the Gospel and that of the
Reformation.

[Sidenote: THE SPIRITUAL SPRINGTIDE.]

Such epochs, the most important in human history, are for that reason
the worthiest to be studied. The new life which sprang up in the 16th
century was everywhere the same, but nevertheless it bore a certain
special character in each of the countries in which it appeared; in
Germany, in Switzerland, in England, in Scotland, in France, in Italy,
in the Netherlands, in Spain, and in other lands. At Wittenberg it
was to man that Christian thought especially attached itself, to
man fallen, but regenerated and justified by faith. At Geneva it
was to God, to His sovereignty and His grace. In Scotland it was to
Christ--Christ as expiatory victim, but above all Christ as king, who
governs and keeps his people independently of human power.

Scotland is peopled by a vigorous race, vigorous in their virtues
and vigorous, we may add, in their faults. Vigor is also one of the
distinguishing features of Scottish Christianity, and it is this
quality perhaps which led Scotland to attach itself particularly to
Christ as to the king of the Church, the idea of power being always
involved in the idea of king.

This country is now to be the subject of our narrative. It deserves to
be so; for although of small extent and situated on the confines of the
West, it has by nature and by faith a motive force which makes itself
felt to the ends of the earth.

Two periods are to be noted in the Scottish Reformation, that of
Hamilton and that of Knox. It is of the first of these only that we
are now to treat. The study of the beginnings of things attracts and
interests the mind in the highest degree. Faithful to our plan, we
shall ascend to the generative epoch of Caledonian reform, an epoch
which Scotland herself has perhaps too much slighted, and we shall
exhibit its simple beauty.

Before the days of the Reformation, Scotland received three great
impulses in succession from the Christian countries of the south.

The persecutions which at the close of the second century, during
the course of the third, and at the beginning of the fourth, fell on
the disciples of the Gospel who dwelt in the southern part of Great
Britain, drove a great number of them to take refuge in the country of
the Scots. These pious men built for themselves humble and solitary
hermitages, in green meadows or on steep mountains, and in narrow
valleys of the glens; and there, devoting themselves to the service of
God, they shed a soft gleam of light in the midst of the fogs of every
kind which encompassed them, teaching the ignorant and strengthening
the weak. They were called in the Gaelic tongue _gille De_, servants of
God, in Latin _cultores Dei_; and in these phrases we find the origin
of the name by which they are still known--_Culdees_. Such was the
respect which they inspired that, after their death, their cells were
often transformed into churches.[1] From them came the first impulse.

[Sidenote: THE CULDEES.]

Several centuries passed away; the feudal system was established in
Scotland. The mountainous nature of the country, which made of every
domain a sort of fortress, the fewness of the large towns, the absence
of any influential body of citizens, the institution of clans, the
limited number of the nobles,--all these circumstances combined to
make the power of the feudal lords greater than in any other European
country; and this power at a later period protected the Reformation
from the despotism of the kings. But the influence of the Culdees,
though really perceptible in the Middle Ages, was very feeble. It may
be said of the things of grace in Scotland as of the works of Creation,
that the sun did not come to scatter the mists which brooded over a
nature melancholy and monotonous, and that the influence of the winds
which, rushing forth from the neighboring seas, roared and raged over
the barren heaths or over the fertile plains of Caledonia, was not
softened by the breath divine which comes from heaven.

But in the days of the revival a sweet and subtile sound was heard,
and the surface of the lochs seemed to become animated. Wickliffe,
having given to England the Word of God, some of his followers, and
particularly John Resby, came into Scotland. ‘The pope is nothing,’
said Resby in 1407,[2] and he taught at the same time that Christ is
everything. He was burnt at Perth.... Thus it was from the disciples of
Wickliffe, the _Lollards_, that the second impulse came.

The _reveillé_ of Wickliffe was echoed in Eastern Europe by that of
John Huss. In 1421, a Bohemian, one Paul Crawar, arriving from Prague,
expounded at St. Andrews the Word of God, which he cited with a
readiness and accuracy that astonished his hearers.[3] When led away to
execution and bound to the stake, the bold Bohemian said to the priests
who stood round him, ‘Generation of Satan, you, like your fathers, are
enemies of the truth.’ The priests, not relishing such speeches in the
presence of the crowd, had a ball of brass put into his mouth,[4] and
the martyr thus silenced was burnt alive without any further protest on
his part.

However, Patrick Graham, archbishop of St. Andrews and primate of
Scotland, nephew of James I., and a man distinguished for his
abilities and his virtues, had heard Crawar. If the heart of the priest
had been hard as a stone the heart of the archbishop was like a fertile
field. The Word of the Lord took deep root in him. He formed the
project of reformation of the Church; but the clergy were indignant;
the primate was deprived, was condemned to imprisonment for life, and
died in prison.

Then began that struggle between royalty and the nobility which was
afterwards to become one of the characteristic features of the time of
reform. Kings, instigated by ambitious priests, sought to humble the
nobles; the latter were thus predisposed to promote the Reformation.
James II. (1437-1460) fought against the nobles both with the sword
and by severe laws. James III. (1460-1488) removed them with contempt
from his Court and gave himself up to unworthy favorites. James IV.
(1488-1503), a man of a nobler spirit, esteemed the aristocracy the
ornament of his Court and the strength of his kingdom. During the reign
of this prince appeared the first glimmerings of the Reformation.
Some pious men, dwellers most of them in the districts of Hill and
Cunningham, were enlightened by the Gospel, and, confronting the Roman
papacy, boldly declared that all true Christians receive every day
spiritually the body of Jesus Christ by faith; that the bread remains
bread after consecration, and that the natural body of Christ is not
present; that there is a universal priesthood, of which every man and
woman who believes in the Saviour is a member; that the pope, who
exalts himself above God, is against God; that it is not permissible to
take up arms for the things of faith; and that priests may marry.

[Sidenote: JOHN CAMPBELL, LAIRD OF CESSNOCK.]

Among the protectors of these brave folk was John Campbell, laird of
Cessnock, a man well grounded in the evangelical doctrine, modest
even to timidity, but abounding in works of mercy, and who received
with goodwill not only the Lollards but those even whose opinions
were opposed to his own. His partner, with a character of greater
decision than his own, was a woman well versed in the Bible, and
being thoroughly acquainted with the Scriptures was safe against
intimidation. Every morning the family and the servants assembled in a
room of the mansion, and a priest, the chaplain, opened in the midst
of them a New Testament, a very rare book at that period, and read
and explained it.[5] When this family worship and the first meal were
over, the Campbells would visit the poor and the sick. At the dinner
hour they called together some of their neighbors: monks as well as
gentlefolk would come and sit at their table. One day the conversation
turning on the conventual life and the habits of the priests, Campbell
spoke on the subject with moderation but also with freedom. The
monks, exasperated, put crafty questions to him, provoked him, and
succeeded in drawing from him words which in their eyes were heretical.
Forgetting the claims of hospitality they hastened to the house of the
bishop and denounced their host and the lady of the house. Inquiry was
set on foot; the crime of heresy was proved. Campbell saw the danger
which threatened him and appealed to the king.

James IV., who had married Margaret Tudor, daughter of Henry VII.,
was then reigning in Scotland. His life had not been spotless: he was
often tormented with remorse, and in his fits of melancholy he resolved
to make up for his sins by applying himself to the administration of
justice. He had the two parties appear before him; the monks cited
decisions of the Church sufficient to condemn the prisoner. The weak
and simple-minded Campbell was somewhat embarrassed;[6] his answers
were timid and inadequate. He could talk with widows and orphans, but
he could not cope with these monks. But his wife was full of decision
and courage. When requested by the king to speak, she took up one by
one the accusations of the monks, and setting them face to face with
the Holy Scriptures, showed their falsehood. Her speech was clear,
serious, and weighty with conviction. The king, persuaded by her
eloquence, declared to the monks that if they should again persecute
honest people in that way, they should be severely punished. And then,
touched by the piety of this eminent woman and wishing to give her
a token of his respect, he rose from his seat, went up to her and
embraced her.[7] Turning to her husband, ‘As for you,’ said he, ‘I give
you in fee such and such villages, and I intend them to be testimonies
for ever of my good will towards you.’ The husband and wife withdrew
full of joy, and the monks full of vexation and shame. Thirty other
evangelicals, professing the same doctrines as the laird of Cessnock,
were cited, but they were dismissed with the request to be satisfied
with the faith of the Church. This took place about the year 1512,
the year in which Zwingle began to search the Scriptures and in which
Luther on Pilate’s Staircase at Rome heard that word which went on
resounding in his heart, ‘The just shall live by faith.’ The brave
Scotchwoman had fought a battle at an outpost and sounded the prelude
to the Reformation.

[Sidenote: ELECTION OF A BISHOP IN SCOTLAND.]

Unhappily the accession of Henry VIII. to the throne of England turned
the thoughts of the King of Scotland in another direction. Henry
VII., as long as he lived, had striven to keep on good terms with
his son-in-law; but Henry VIII., a monarch haughty, sensitive, and
impatient, and who in mere wilfulness would quarrel with his neighbors,
was far less friendly with his sister’s husband. He even delayed for a
long time the payment of the legacy which her father had left her. The
frequent attacks of the English, and the necessity thereby imposed on
the Scots of constantly keeping watch on the borders, had given rise
to distrust and hatred between the two nations. At the same time the
ancient rivalry of France and England had thrown Scotland on the side
of the French. When the English eagle pounced on unguarded France,
‘the weasel Scot’ came sliding into its nest and devoured the royal
brood.[8] Henry VIII. revived those ancient traditions; and France
took advantage of them to enfeoff Scotland still further to herself
at the very moment when the Medici and the Guises were on the point
of seizing at Paris the reins of government. Insulted by Henry VIII.,
James IV. resolved, in spite of the wise remonstrance of the old earl
of Angus, to attack England. Scotland gave him the _élite_ of her
people. He fought at Flodden with intrepid courage, but hit by two
arrows and struck by a battle-axe he fell on the field, while round
him lay the corpses of twelve earls, thirteen lords, two bishops, two
mitred abbots, a great number of gentlemen, and more than ten thousand
soldiers. Several students, and among them one named Andrew Duncan, son
of the laird of Airdrie, whom we shall meet again, were either killed
or made prisoners on that fatal day.

The king’s son, James V. (afterwards father of Mary Stuart), was
scarcely two years old at the time of his father’s death. His mother,
sister of Henry VIII., assumed the regency, and during his minority
the nobles exercised an influence which was to be one day favorable
to liberty, and thereby to the Gospel. The king and the priests, both
driving at absolute power, the former in the State, the latter in the
Church, now made common cause against the nobles. Strange conflicts
then took place between the various powers of Scotland. One of these
conflicts had just disturbed the first city of the kingdom, St.
Andrews, and had mingled with the noise of the stormy sea, which roared
at the foot of the rocks, the voices of priests struggling around the
Cathedral, the cries of soldiers and the reverberations of cannon.
Alexander Stuart, archbishop of St. Andrews, primate of Scotland,
having fallen on the field of Flodden, three competitors appeared for
the possession of his primatial see. These were John Hepburn, prior
of St. Andrews, the candidate of the canons; Gavin Douglas, brother
of the earl of Angus, candidate of the nobles; and Andrew Forman,
bishop of Murray, candidate of the pope. Douglas had already been put
by the queen in possession of the castle of St. Andrews; but Hepburn,
an ambitious man of high spirit, with the aid of the canons, took it
by assault, fortified himself in it,[9] and then set out for Rome to
secure the pontifical investiture. Forman, the pope’s candidate, taking
advantage of his rival’s absence, seized the castle and the monastery,
and placed there a strong garrison. Hepburn was pacified by the gift
of a pension of 3,000 crowns; while Douglas, candidate of the nobles,
finding that there was neither money nor mitre for him, cannonaded and
captured the cathedral of Dunkeld.[10] In such fashion was the election
of a bishop made in Scotland before the Reformation.

The elections of priests were conducted after somewhat different
methods. The lesser benefices were put up to auction and sold by
wandering bards, diceplayers, or minions of the Court. The bishops, who
gave their illegitimate daughters to the nobles, kept the best places
in the Church for their bastards. These young worldlings, hurrying off
to their pleasures, abandoned their flocks to monks, who retailed in
the pulpit absurd legends of their saint, of his combats with the devil
and of his flagellations, or amused the people with low jesting. This
system, which passing for a representation of Christianity was merely
its parody, destroyed not only Christian piety and morality, but the
peace of families, the freedom of the people, and the prosperity of the
kingdom.[11]

While ambition, idleness and licentiousness thus prevailed among the
clergy, God was preparing ‘new vessels’ into which to pour the new wine
which the old vessels could no longer hold. Some simple-minded men were
on the point of achieving by their Christian faith and life a victory
over the rich, powerful, and worldly pontiffs. Three young men, born
almost with the century, were just beginning a career, the struggles
and trials of which were as yet unknown to them. These men were to
become the reformers of the Church of Scotland.

[Sidenote: BIRTH OF ALESIUS.]

On April 23, 1500, the wife of an honest citizen of Edinburgh gave
birth to a son who was afterwards called by some Alane, and by others
Ales, but who signed his own name Alesius, the form which we shall
adopt. Alexander--that was his baptismal name--was a child remarkable
for liveliness, and the anxiety of his devoted parents lest any
accident should befall him led them to hang round his neck, as a
safeguard against every danger, a paper on which a priest had written
some verses of St. John. Alesius was fond of going, with other boys of
his own age, to the heights which environ Edinburgh. The great rock
on the summit of which the castle stands, the beautiful Calton Hill,
and the picturesque hill called Arthur’s Seat, in turn attracted them.
One day--it was in 1512--Alexander and some friends, having betaken
themselves to the last-named hill, amused themselves by rolling over
and over down a slope which terminated in a precipice. Suddenly the
lad found himself on the brink: terror deprived him of his senses:
some hand grasped him and placed him in safety, but he never knew by
whom or by what he had been saved. The priests gave the credit of this
escape to the paper with which they had provided him, but Alexander
himself attributed it to God and his father’s prayers. ‘Ah!’ said he,
many years afterwards, ‘I never recall that event without a great
shudder through my whole body.’[12] Some time after he was sent to the
University of St. Andrews to complete his education.

Another young boy, of more illustrious birth, gave promise of an
eminent manhood; he belonged to the Hamilton family which, under
James III., had taken the highest position in Scotland. Born in the
county of Linlithgow, westward of Edinburgh, and somewhat younger than
Alesius, he was to inaugurate the Reformation. Linlithgow was at that
time the Versailles of the kingdom, and could boast of a more ancient
origin than the palace of Louis XIV. Its projecting porticoes, its
carvings in wood, its wainscot panelings, its massive balustrades, its
roofs over-hanging the street, produced the most picturesque effect.
The castle was at once palace, fortress, and prison; it was the
pleasure-house to which the Court used to retire for relaxation, and
within its walls Mary Stuart was born.

[Sidenote: PATRICK HAMILTON.]

Near Linlithgow was the barony of Kincavil, which had been given by
James IV., in 1498, to Sir Patrick Hamilton. Catherine Stuart, the wife
of the latter, was daughter of the duke of Albany, son of King James
II. Sir Patrick, on his side, was second son of Lord Hamilton, and,
according to trustworthy charters, of the princess Mary, countess of
Arran, also a daughter of James II.[13] Sir Patrick had two sons and
one daughter, James, Patrick, and Catherine.

Patrick, the young man of whom we speak, was therefore of the blood
royal, both by the father’s and the mother’s side. He was born probably
at the manor of Kincavil, and was there brought up. He grew up
surrounded with all the sweetnesses of a mother’s love, and from his
childhood the image of his mother was deeply engraven on his heart.
This tender mother, who afterwards engaged his latest thoughts on the
scaffold, observed with delight in her son a craving for superior
culture, a passion for science, a taste for the literature of Greece
and Rome, and above all, lively aspirations after all that is elevated,
and movements of the soul towards God.

As for his father, Sir Patrick, he had the reputation of being the
first knight of Scotland, and as cousin-german of King James IV. he had
frequent occasions for displaying his courage. One day a German knight
arriving in Scotland to challenge her lords and barons, Sir Patrick
encountered and overthrew him. At the marriage of Margaret of England
with the King of Scotland, it was once more Sir Patrick who most
distinguished himself at the tournament. And at a later time, when sent
ambassador to Paris with an elder brother, the earl of Arran, he won
fresh honors in London on his way.[14] People were fond of recounting
these exploits to his two boys, James and Patrick, and nothing
appeared to them more magnificent than the glittering armor of their
father hung upon the walls of the banqueting hall. Ambition awoke in
the heart of the younger of the sons; but he was destined to seek after
another glory, holier and more enduring.

The Hamiltons having many relations at Paris, Sir Patrick determined
to send thither his second son, and at the age of fourteen the lad
set out for that celebrated capital.[15] His father, who destined him
for the great offices of the Church, had already procured for him the
title and the revenues of abbot of Ferne, in the county of Ross, and
from that source the expenses of the young man’s journey and course
of studies were to be defrayed. It was the moment at which the fire
of the Reformation, which was just kindled on the Continent, began to
throw out sparks on all sides. One of these sparks was to light on the
soul of Patrick. But if Hamilton were destined to bring from Paris to
Scotland the first stone of the building, another Scotchman, one year
younger than he, was destined to bring the top-stone from Geneva.

[Sidenote: BIRTH OF JOHN KNOX.]

In one of the suburbs of Haddington, near Edinburgh, called
Gifford-gate, dwelt an honorable citizen, member of an ancient family
of Renfrewshire, named Knox, who had borne arms, like his father and
his grandfather, under the earl of Bothwell. Some members of this
family had died under the colors.[16] In 1505 Knox had a son who was
named John. The blood of warriors ran in the veins of the man who
was to become one of the most intrepid champions of Christ’s army.
John, after studying first at Haddington school, was sent at the age
of sixteen to Glasgow University.[17] He was active, bold, thoroughly
upright and perfectly honest, diligent in his duties, and full of
heartiness for his comrades. But he had in him also a firmness which
came near to obstinacy, an independence which was very much like pride,
a melancholy which bordered on prostration, a sternness which some
took for insensibility, and a passionate force sometimes mistakenly
attributed to a vindictive temper. An important place was reserved for
him in the history of his country and of Christendom.

While God was thus preparing these young contemporaries, Alesius,
Hamilton, and Knox, and others besides, to diffuse in Scotland the
light of the Gospel, ambitious nobles were engaged in conflict around
the throne of the king. The old earl of Angus, who had lost his two
sons at the battle of Flodden, and had not long survived them, had
left a grandson, a handsome young man, not very wise nor experienced,
but with plenty of ambition, cleverness, liveliness, and courage. The
widow of James IV., regent of the kingdom, married this youth, and by
this rash step displeased the nobles. In the fierce encounters which
took place between the Angus and Douglas parties on one side, and the
Hamiltons on the other, pillage, murder, and arson were not seldom
perpetrated. Another regency became necessary. John Stuart, duke of
Albany, who was born in France of a French mother, and was residing at
the court of Saint-Germain, but was the nearest relation of the King of
Scotland, was summoned. He banished Angus, who withdrew with the queen
to England. But Albany had soon to return to France, and Queen Margaret
and her husband went back to Edinburgh.

The old rivalries were not slow to reappear. When the parliament
assembled at Edinburgh in April 1520, the Hamiltons gathered in
great numbers in the palace of the primate Beatoun. The primate ran
hither and thither, armed from head to foot, brandishing the torch
of discord.[18] The bishop of Dunkeld entreated him to prevent a
collision. When the primate, laying his hand on his heart, said: ‘On
my conscience I am not able to prevent it,’ the sound of his coat mail
was heard. ‘Ah, my lord,’ exclaimed Dunkeld, ‘that noise tells me
that your conscience is not good.’ Sir Patrick Hamilton, the father
of the reformer, counselled peace; but Sir James Hamilton, a natural
son of the earl of Arran, a violent and cruel young man, cried out to
him: ‘You are afraid to fight for your friend.’ ‘Thou liest, impudent
bastard;’ retorted the haughty baron; ‘I will fight to-day in a place
in which thou wilt not dare to set thy foot.’ The speaker immediately
quitted the palace, and all the Hamiltons followed him.

The earl of Angus then occupied the High Street, and his men, drawn up
behind barricades, vigorously repulsed their adversaries with their
pikes. Sir Patrick, with the most intrepid of his followers, cleared
the entrenchments, threw himself into the High Street, and striking out
vigorously all round him with his sword, fell mortally wounded, while
the rash young man who had insulted him fled at full speed.

[Sidenote: PATRICK HAMILTON IN FRANCE.]

His son Patrick was no longer present in the manor-house of Kincavil,
to mingle his tears with those of his mother. Escaping from the gloomy
atmosphere of Caledonia, he had gone to enjoy in Paris the splendid
light of civilization, almost at the same time at which the famous
George Buchanan arrived there. ‘All hail!’ exclaimed these young
Scotchmen, as they landed in France; ‘all hail! oh, happy Gaul! kind
nurse of letters! Thou whose atmosphere is so healthful, whose soil is
so fertile, whose bountiful hospitality welcomes all the universe, and
who givest to the world in return the riches of thy spirit; thou whose
language is so elegant, thou who art the common country of all peoples,
who worshippest God in truth and without debasing thyself in outward
observances! Oh! shall I not love thee as a son? shall I not honor thee
all my life? All hail, oh, happy Gaul!’[19]

It is probable that Hamilton entered the Collège de Montaigu, the same
to which Calvin was admitted four or five years later. At the time
of Hamilton’s arrival Mayor (Major), who soon after removed to St.
Andrews, was teacher of philosophy there.

To a strong dislike of the writings of the sophists Hamilton joined a
great love for those of the true philosophers. But presently a light
more pure than that of Plato and Aristotle shone in his eyes. As early
as 1520 the writings of Luther were read with eager interest by the
students of the schools of Paris; some of whom took part with, others
against the Reformation. Hamilton was listening to these disputations
and reading the books which came from Germany, when suddenly he learnt
the tragical death of Sir Patrick. He was profoundly affected by the
tidings, and began to seek God with yet more ardor than before. He
was one more example of the well-known fact, that at the very moment
when all the sorrows of the earthly life overwhelm the soul, God
gives to it the heavenly life. Two great events--the death of Sir
Patrick, and the beginning of the Reformation in Paris--occurring
simultaneously--occasioned in the soul of the young Scotchman a
collision by which a divine spark was struck out. The fire once kindled
in his heart, nothing could thenceforth extinguish it.

Hamilton took the degree of Master of Arts about the close of 1520,
as still appears in the registers of the University. He may possibly
have visited Louvain, where Erasmus then dwelt; he returned to Scotland
probably in 1522.




                              CHAPTER II.

                    THE MOVEMENT OF REFORM BEGINS.

                         (1522 TO APRIL 1527.)


The Reformation seems to have begun in Scotland with the profession of
those principles, Catholic but antipapal, which had been maintained a
century earlier at the Council of Constance. There were doctors present
there who set out from the thought that from the age of the Apostles
there always had been, and that there always will be, a church one and
universal, capable of remedying by its own action all abuses in its
forms of worship, dissensions among its members, the hypocrisy of its
priests, and the despotic assumptions of the first of its pontiffs.
John Mayor had been recently called to Glasgow University. Among
his audience there John Knox distinguished himself by his passion
for study; and not far from him was another young Scotchman, of a
less serious turn, Buchanan. ‘The church universal,’--so were they
taught by the disciple of d’Ailly and of Gerson--‘when assembled in
council, is above the pope, and may rebuke, judge, and even depose
him. The Roman excommunications have no force at all if they are not
conformed to justice. The ambition, the avarice, the worldly luxury
of the Roman court and of the bishops are to be sharply censured.’ On
another occasion, the professor, passing from theology to politics,
avowed doctrines far in advance of his age. He taught that a people,
in its entirety, is above the monarch; that the power of the king is
derived from the people, and that if a prince acts in opposition to
the interests of his subjects, the latter have the right to dethrone
him. Mayor went further still, even to the blameworthy extreme of
asserting that in certain cases the king might be put to death.[20]
These political principles, professed by one who occupied a Roman
Catholic chair, thoroughly scholastic and superstitious, must have
influenced the convictions of Buchanan, who afterwards, in his
dialogue _De Jure Regni apud Scotos_, professed opinions which were
energetically controverted, even by Protestants. ‘In the beginning,’
said he, ‘we created legitimate kings, and we established laws binding
equally on them and on ourselves.’[21] These political heresies of the
sixteenth century are the truths of our days. The principles of Mayor
were certainly not received without exception by Knox, but they had
probably something to do with the firmness with which he maintained
the rights of the Word of God in the presence of Mary Stuart. For the
moment, Knox, disgusted with the barren theology of his master--a
stanch scholastic on many points--forsook the wilderness of the schools
and applied himself to the quest of the living fountains of the Word of
God. In 1523 Mayor removed from Glasgow to St. Andrews.

[Sidenote: PATRICK HAMILTON AT ST. ANDREWS.]

It was to St. Andrews that Patrick Hamilton betook himself on his
return from the Continent, after a visit to the bereaved family
of Kincavil. He was admitted on June 9 of the same year into the
University of the metropolitan city, and on October 3 of the following
year he was received member of the faculty of letters. St. Andrews
had powerful attractions for him. No other university in the kingdom
had on its staff so many enlightened men; and the college of St.
Leonard’s, which he entered, was the one whose teaching had the most
liberal tendencies. The studies which he had pursued, the knowledge
which he had acquired, and the rank which he held, gave him distinction
among his fellow-disciples. Buchanan, a severe judge, looked on him
as a ‘young man of great intellect and of astonishing learning.’[22]
Hamilton held the hypocrisy of the monks in such abomination that he
never would adopt either their dress or their way of life; and although
he was abbot of Ferne he never took up his residence in his monastery.
Skilled in the musical art, he composed a chant in parts, which was
performed in the cathedral, and delighted the hearers. He did more:
he dreamed, as all reformers do at the outset of their career, of
the transformation of the Catholic Church; he resolved to seek the
imposition of hands, ‘in order,’ says Fryth, ‘that he might preach the
pure Word of God.’ Hamilton did not, to be sure, preach at that time
with the boldness and the power of a Luther or a Farel. He loved the
weak; he felt himself weak; and being full of lowly-mindedness, he was
content to impart faithfully the truth which he had received.

About a year after the combat in which Sir Patrick was killed, the duke
of Albany returned, with the intention of bringing about an intimate
alliance between Scotland and France. Margaret Tudor, who wished for an
alliance with England, and who found herself deprived of power by the
arrival of Albany, wrote on September 13, 1523, to her brother Henry
VIII.: ‘The person and the kingdom of my son are exposed to very great
danger; come to our aid, come in all haste, or it is all over with my
son!’[23] It might perhaps have been all over with the Reformation
too--a far more important matter. But Albany, although he was at the
head of a fine army, fled on two occasions before the English, and
being despised by everybody, quitted Scotland forever at the close of
May 1524.[24]

[Sidenote: WRITINGS OF LUTHER PROSCRIBED.]

He had only just set sail when the cause of the Reformation, threatened
by his presence, received a powerful reinforcement. In 1524, and at
the beginning of 1525, some books of Luther and of other Reformers
were brought into Scotland by merchant-ships, and getting dispersed
over the country, produced there the same effect as they had in France
and in Italy. Gawin Dunbar, the old bishop of Aberdeen, was the first
to become aware of this. He discovered one day a volume of Luther
in his own town. He was in consternation when he saw that the fiery
darts hurled by the hand of the heretic were crossing the sea. As like
discoveries were made in Linlithgow, St. Andrews, and other places, the
affair was brought before Parliament. ‘Damnable heresies are spread
abroad in various countries,’ said the partisans of Rome. ‘This kingdom
of Scotland, its sovereigns and their subjects, have always stood fast
in the holy faith since they received it in the primitive age; attempts
are being made at this moment to turn them away from it. Let us take
all needful steps to repulse the attack.’ Consequently, on July 17,
1525, parliament enacted that no person arriving in any part of the
kingdom should introduce any book of Luther or of his disciples, or
should publish the opinions of that German except for the purpose of
refuting them, ‘Scotland having always bene clene of all filth and
vice.’[25]

This act was immediately published throughout the country, and
particularly at all ports, in order that no one might be able to
pretend ignorance of it. About four days after the closing of
parliament the sheriffs received orders from the king’s council to
set on foot without delay the necessary inquiries for the discovery
of persons who might possess any books of Luther, or who should
profess his errors. ‘You will confiscate their books,’ the order ran,
‘and transmit them to us.’ The Reformation, which till that time had
been almost unknown in those regions, became suddenly a public fact,
proclaimed by the highest body in the realm, and was on the point of
preoccupying all minds. The enemies of the truth were preparing its
triumph.

However, the question was whether the young king would lean towards the
side of Rome or the side of the Gospel. James V., in whose name the
decree against the Reformation had been issued, had in reality nothing
at all to do with it. Amiable and generous, but a weakling and lover of
pleasure, he was so backward in his learning that for want of knowing
English he could not read the letters of his uncle Henry VIII.[26] He
was a child under tutelage; he spoke to no one except in the presence
of some member of the council, and Angus took care to foster in him
the taste for pleasure in order to turn away his attention from public
affairs. That taste was moreover quite natural to the young prince. His
life was devoted to games, to arms, to the chase; he made request to
Henry VIII. to send him swords and bucklers, the armor made in London
being far more beautiful than that of Edinburgh. He sacrificed business
to pleasure all the more readily because those who were about him were
living in a state of entire disunion. The three chief personages of the
realm, archbishop Beatoun, head of the priests, Angus, leader of the
nobles, and the queen-mother who intrigued with both parties, were at
open war.[27] Margaret desired both to get a divorce from Angus and to
avenge herself on the archbishop who thwarted her in her projects.[28]
In the midst of all these ambitious ones the young king was like a prey
over which the vultures fight.

In May 1525, James having reached his fourteenth year, had been
declared of age, in conformity with the law of Scotland. It had been
a mere matter of form. Angus, supported by the most powerful of the
nobles and by the parliament, verified the fears of the queen; he gave
all places to the Douglases, and taking the Great Seal from archbishop
Beatoun, kept it himself. The queen-mother indignantly entreated her
very dear brother to secure the intervention of the pope on behalf of
her son.[29] All was useless: the authority of the bold and ambitious
Angus remained unimpaired.

[Sidenote: JAMES V. AND THE PRIESTS.]

The young prince, then, wearied with the yoke, threw himself, after the
tradition of his fathers, into the arms of the priests, and in order
to escape the aristocracy submitted himself to the clergy. This was a
grievous prognostic for Reform. At the end of the summer of 1526, the
queen, archbishop Beatoun, and other members of the priestly and royal
party, assembled at Stirling Castle, and a plan was there considered
and determined on which was to take away the chief power from the
nobles and give it to the bishops. John Stuart, earl of Lennox, a
friend of James V., set out from that fortress on September 4, at the
head of from ten to twelve thousand men, and marched on Edinburgh. But
Angus was already informed of what was in preparation, and Arran, who
had made his peace with him, was ready. The same day, in the morning,
the trumpet sounded in the capital, and the chief of the Douglases set
forth at the head of his army, dragging after him the young monarch.
The latter was in hope that the hour of his deliverance was come: he
advanced slowly in the rear of the army, in spite of the brutal threats
of Sir G. Douglas, his guardian. Presently the report of cannons was
heard: the king stopped. George Douglas, fancying that he would attempt
to escape, cried out, ‘Don’t think of running away, for if our enemies
had hold of you on one side and we on the other, we would pull you in
two rather than let you go.’ The King never forgot that word. Angus won
the day. Lennox had been killed by the savage James Hamilton, and the
father of the latter, when he heard it, had thrown his scarlet cloak
over the body of Lennox, exclaiming: ‘Here lies a man, the boldest,
the mightiest, and the wisest that Scotland ever possessed!’ At the
tidings of this great disaster all was confusion in Stirling Castle.
The queen fled in disguise and concealed herself: archbishop Beatoun
put off his pontifical robes, took the dress of a shepherd, and went
into retirement among the herdsmen of the Fifeshire hills, where for
nearly three months he kept a flock, no one the while suspecting that
he was the lord chancellor of the realm. Thus the anticipated triumph
of the primate and the priests, which would have been fatal to the
Reformation, was changed into a total rout, and greater religious
freedom was given to Scotland.[30]

But this was not enough. The reform of the Church by the Church itself
would not suffice; nor would reform by the writings of the reformers;
there was need of a mightier principle,--the Word of God. This Word
does not merely communicate a bare knowledge; it works a transformation
in the will and in the life of man, and as soon as such a change is
accomplished in two or three individuals in any place whatsoever, there
exists a church. The increased liberty enjoyed in Scotland after the
flight of the primate favored the introduction of this mighty Word,
to which it was reserved to effect the complete enfranchisement of the
nation.

[Sidenote: TYNDALE’S NEW TESTAMENTS IMPORTED.]

Early in the summer, merchants of Leith, Dundee, St. Andrews, Montrose,
and Aberdeen, sent out their ships laden with the productions of
Scotland to the ports of the Netherlands, Middelburg, Antwerp, and
other towns, there to procure commodities for which there was a demand
among the Scotch. At that time there was no prohibition against the
introduction of the New Testament into Scotland: only the books of
Luther and other reformers were proscribed. These good Scottish seamen
took advantage of this; and one day Hacket, who had received orders
from Henry VIII. to burn all the Testaments translated by Tyndale
(and this ‘for the preservation of the Christian faith’), learnt at
Berg-op-Zoom, where he then was, that the Scottish traders had put on
board many copies of the Gospels as they were on the point of setting
sail for Edinburgh and St. Andrews. He started with all speed for the
ports which had been named to him: ‘I will seize those books,’ said
he, ‘even though they be already on board the ships, and I will make
a good fire of them.’[31] He got there: but alas! no more Scottish
vessels; they had sailed one day before his arrival. ‘Fortune,’ said
he, ‘did not allow me to get there in time; ah, well, have patience.’
And he gave good instructions on the matter to M. de Bever, admiral of
Flanders, and to Mr. Moffit, conservator of the Scottish nation in that
country.[32]

It was during the time that archbishop Beatoun, arch-foe of the
Reformation, was feeding his sheep on the Fifeshire hills in September,
October, and November 1526, that the New Testaments arrived and were
distributed in the towns and neighboring districts. Scotland and
England received the Holy Scriptures from the same country and almost
at the same time. The citizens of Edinburgh and the canons of St.
Andrews were reading that astonishing book as well as the citizens of
London and the canons of Oxford. There were monks who declared that it
was a bad book ‘recently invented by Martin Luther,’ but the reading of
it was not forbidden. At St. Andrews especially these sacred writings
soon shed the evangelical light over the souls of men.[33]

[Sidenote: PATRICK HAMILTON’S PREACHING.]

There was in that town a young man who was already acquainted with
the great facts of salvation announced in this book, and who was well
qualified to circulate and explain it. Patrick Hamilton, gifted with
keen intelligence and a Christian heart, knew how to set forth in a
concise and natural manner the truths of which he was convinced. He
knew that there is in the Scriptures a wisdom superior to the human
understanding, and that in order to comprehend them there is need of
the illumination of the Holy Spirit. He believed that with the written
it is necessary to combine oral teaching; and that as Testaments were
come from the Netherlands, Scotland needed the spoken word which
should call restless and degenerate souls to seek in them the living
water which springs up unto life eternal. God was then preparing His
witnesses in Scotland, and the first was Patrick Hamilton. He laid
open the New Testament; he set forth the facts and the doctrines
contained in it; he defended the evangelical principles. His father,
the foremost of Scottish knights, had not broken so many lances in the
tournament as Patrick now broke in his college, at the university, with
the canons, and with all who set themselves against the truth.[34] At
the beginning of Lent 1527, he publicly preached in the cathedral and
elsewhere the doctrines (heresies, said his sentence) taught by Martin
Luther.[35] We have no further particulars of his preaching; but these
are sufficient to show us that at this period the people who gathered
together in the ancient churches of Scotland heard this faithful
minister announce that ‘it is not the law, that terrible tyrant, as
Luther said, that is to reign in the conscience, but the Son of God,
the king of justice and of peace, who, like a fruitful rain, descends
from heaven and fertilizes the most barren soil.’[36]

Circumstances were by no means favorable to the Reformation. Archbishop
Beatoun had soon thrown off his shepherd’s dress and left the flocks
which he was feeding in the solitary pastures of Bogrian in Fifeshire.
The simple, rude, and isolated life of the keeper of sheep was a
sufficiently severe chastisement for an ambitious, intriguing, and
worldly spirit: day and night, therefore, he was looking for some means
of deliverance. Although he was then sleeping on the ground, he had
plenty of gold and great estates: this wealth, the omnipotence of
which he knew well, would suffice, said he to himself, to ransom him
from the abject service to which a political reverse had reduced him.
Since the victory of Linlithgow, Angus had exercised the royal power
without opposition. It was needful then that Beatoun should gain over
that terrible conqueror. The queen-mother, who had also fled at first,
having ventured two months later to approach Edinburgh, her son had
received her and conducted her to Holyrood palace. This encouraged the
archbishop. His nephew, David Beatoun, abbot of Arbroath, was as clever
and as ambitious as his uncle, but he hated still more passionately all
who refused to submit to the Roman Church. The archbishop entreated him
to negotiate his return; the party of the nobles was hard to win; but
the abbot, having gained over the provost of Edinburgh, Sir Archibald
Douglas, uncle of Angus, the bargain was struck. The archbishop was
to pay two thousand Scottish marks to Angus, one thousand to George
Douglas, the king’s gaoler, one thousand to cruel James Hamilton, the
assassin of Lennox, and to make a present of the abbey of Kilwinning to
the earl of Arran. Beatoun, charmed, threw away his crook, started for
Edinburgh, and resumed his episcopal functions at St. Andrews.

[Sidenote: HAMILTON DECLARED A HERETIC.]

It was some time after the return of Beatoun that the king’s cousin
began to preach at St. Andrews the glad tidings of free salvation
through faith in Christ. Such doctrines could not be taught without
giving rise to agitation. The clergy took alarm, some priests and
monks went to the castle and prayed the archbishop to chastise the
young preacher. Beatoun ordered an inquiry: it was carried out very
precisely. The persons with whom Hamilton had engaged in discussion
were heard, and some of his hearers gave evidence as to the matter of
his discourses. He was declared a heretic. Beatoun was not cruel; he
would perhaps have been content with seeking to bring back by fatherly
exhortations the young and interesting Hamilton into the paths of
the Church. But the primate had by his side some fanatical spirits,
especially his nephew David, and they redoubled their urgency to such
a degree that the archbishop ordered Hamilton to appear before him to
give an account of his faith.[37]

The inquiry could not be made without this noble Christian hearing of
it. He perceived the fate that awaited him; his friends perceived it
too. If he should appear before the archbishop, it was all up with him.
Everyone was moved with compassion; some of his enemies even, touched
by his youth, the loveliness of his character, and his illustrious
birth, wished to see him escape death. There was no time to lose, for
the order of the archiepiscopal court was already signed; several
conjured him to fly. What should he do? All his desire was to show to
others the peace that filled his own soul; but at the same time he
knew how much was still wanting to him. Who could better enlighten and
strengthen him than the reformers of Germany? Who more able to put him
in a position to return afterwards to preach Christ with power? He
resolved to go. Two of his friends, Hamilton of Linlithgow and Gilbert
Wynram of Edinburgh, determined to accompany him. Preparations for
their departure were made with the greatest possible secrecy. Hamilton
took with him one servant, and the three young Scotchmen, finding their
way furtively to the coast, embarked on board a merchant-ship. It was
in the latter half of the month of April 1527. This unlooked-for escape
greatly provoked those who had set their minds on taking the life of
the evangelist. ‘He, of evil mind, as may be presumed, passed forth of
the realm,’[38] said the archbishop’s familiars. No: his intention was
to be instructed, to increase in spiritual life from day to day. He
landed at the beginning of May in one of the ports of the Netherlands.




                             CHAPTER III.

 HAMILTON PREPARES HIMSELF IN GERMANY FOR THE REFORMATION OF SCOTLAND.

                    (SPRING, SUMMER, AUTUMN, 1527.)


At the time of Hamilton’s arrival on the Continent, the germ of the
Reformation of Scotland already lay in his heart. His association
with the doctors of Germany would prove the identity of this great
spiritual movement, which everywhere was overthrowing the same abuses,
and bringing anew to the surface the same truths. In which direction
should the young Christian hero of Scotland now turn his footsteps? All
his ambition was to go to Wittenberg, to hear Luther, Melanchthon, and
the other reformers; but circumstances led him to go first to Marburg.
This town lay on his way, and a renowned printer, Hans Luft, was then
publishing there the works of Tyndale. In fact, on May 8, 1527, at
the moment of Patrick’s arrival on the Continent, there appeared at
Marburg the _Parable of the Wicked Mammon_; and seven months later,
December 11, Luft published _The Veritable Obedience of a Christian
Man_. But Hamilton flattered himself that he should find at Marburg
something more than Tyndale’s writings--Tyndale himself. English
evangelical works had at that time to get printed in Germany, and, as
far as possible, under the eye of the author. The young Scotchman had
hopes then of meeting at Marburg the translator of the New Testament,
the reformer of England, and even Fryth, who might be with him. One
reason more positive still influenced Hamilton. He was aware that
Lambert d’Avignon, the one man of all the reformers whose views most
nearly approached those which prevailed afterwards in Scotland, had
been called to Marburg by the landgrave. Philip of Hesse himself was
the most determined, the most courageous of all the Protestant princes.
How many motives were there inclining him to stay in that town! An
extraordinary circumstance decided the young Scotchman. The landgrave,
defender of piety and of letters,[39] was about to found there the
first evangelical university, ‘for the restoration of the liberal
sciences.’[40] Its inauguration was fixed to take place on May 30.
Hamilton and his friends might arrive in time. They bent their course
towards Hesse, and reached the banks of the Lahn.

[Sidenote: UNIVERSITY OF MARBURG.]

At the time of their arrival the little town was full of unaccustomed
movement. Undiverted by this stir, Hamilton hastened to find out the
Frenchman whose name had been mentioned to him and other learned
men who were likely also to be at Marburg. He found the sprightly,
pious, and resolute Lambert, an opponent, like the landgrave, of
half-measures, and a man determined to take action in such wise that
the Reformation should not be checked halfway. The young abbot of the
North and the aged monk of the South thus met, understood each other,
and soon lived together in great familiarity.[41] Lambert said to him
that the hidden things had been revealed by Jesus Christ; that what
distinguishes our religion from all others is the fact that God has
spoken to us; that the Scriptures are sufficient to make us perfect. He
did not philosophize much, persuaded that by dint of philosophizing one
swerves from the truth. He set aside with equal energy the superstition
which invents a marvellous mythology, and the incredulity which denies
divine and supernatural action. ‘Everything which has been perverted
[_déformé_] must be reformed [_réformé_],’ said Lambert, ‘and all
reform which proceeds otherwise than according to the Word of God, is
nothing.[42] All the inventions of human reason are, in the matter of
religion, nothing but trifling and rubbish.’

The commotion which then prevailed amongst the population of Marburg
was occasioned by the approaching inauguration of the university
founded by the landgrave. On May 30 the chancellor presided at that
ceremony. No school of learning had ever been founded on such a basis;
one must suppose that the union which ought to exist between science
and faith was in this case unrecognized. There is nothing in Hamilton’s
writings to show that in this matter he shared the opinions of Lambert.
With great evangelical simplicity as to the faith, the Scotchman had
rather, in his manner of setting it forth, a metaphysical, speculative
tendency, which is a marked feature of the Scottish mind. The
principles which were to characterize the new university were these:
‘The Holy Scriptures,’ says a document of Marburg which has been
preserved, ‘ought to be purely and piously interpreted, and no one who
fails to do so is to teach in the school. From the science of law must
be cut off everything which is either unchristian or impious.[43] It is
not mere scholars who are to be appointed in the faculties of law, of
medicine, of the sciences, and of letters, but men who shall combine
with science the knowledge of the Holy Scriptures and piety.’

[Sidenote: SCIENCE AND FAITH.]

Thus we see that the opposition between science and faith was already
attracting attention, and the landgrave settled the question by
excluding science and those learned in it, since they were not in
agreement with the Scriptures; just as in other ages men would have
theology and theologians set aside, since they were not in agreement
with human learning. No one ought to teach in the schools of theology
except in conformity with the Scriptures of God, the supreme authority
in the Church. To disregard this principle is to take in hand to
destroy the flock of God. The fanaticism of the School, however,
cannot justify the fanaticism of the Church. It is a grave matter
to banish science on account of the dangers to which it exposes us.
To exclude the fire from the hearth for fear of conflagration would
not be reasonable; far better to take the precautions which good
sense points out for preventing the evil. If science and faith are
to advance together without peril, it can only be brought about by
the intervention of the moral principle. The existence of so-called
freethinkers arises from a moral decay; certain excesses of an
exaggerated orthodoxy may perhaps proceed from the same cause. A
presumptuous and passionate haste, affirming and denying to the first
comer, is a grave fault. How many times has it happened that some law,
some fact proclaimed by science at one period as sufficient to convict
the Scriptures of error, has had to be given up soon after by science
herself as a mistake. But let religious men be on their guard against
the indolence and the cowardice which would lead them to repulse
science, out of fear lest she should remain mistress of the field of
battle. By so doing they would deprive themselves of the weapons most
serviceable for the defence of their treasures as well as of the most
fitting occasions for spreading them abroad. Lambert did not go to such
a length; but he was persuaded that unless a breath divine, coming
from on high, give life to academical teaching, the university would
be nothing more than a dead mechanism, and that science, instead of
propagating a healthy and enlightened cultivation, would only darken
and pervert men’s minds. This is surely a very reasonable and very
practical thought, and it is to be regretted that it has not always
regulated public instruction.

After the delivery of the inaugural discourses, the rector, Montanus,
professor of Civil Law, opened the roll of the university, to enter in
it the names of its members. Professors, pastors, state functionaries,
nobles, foreigners, students, one hundred and ten persons in all,
gave their names. The first to sign was the rector, the second was
Lambert; then came Adam Crato, professor Ehrard Schnepf, one of
the first Germans converted by Luther, Enricius Cordus, who had
accompanied Luther to Worms, and Hermann von dem Busche, professor of
Poetry and Eloquence. In a little while three young men of foreign
aspect approached. The first of them signed his name thus: _Patricius
Hamilton, a Litgovien, Scotus, magister Parisiensis_;[44] his two
friends signed after him.

From that time the Frenchman and the Scotchman frequently studied the
Holy Scriptures together, and with interest always new. The large
acquaintance with the Word of God which Hamilton possessed, astonished
Lambert: the freshness of his thoughts and of his imagination charmed
him; the integrity of his character inspired a high esteem for him;
his profound remarks on the Gospel edified him. A short time after
this, the Frenchman, speaking to the landgrave Philip, said:--‘This
young man, of the illustrious family of the Hamiltons, which is
closely allied, by the ties of blood, to the king and the kingdom of
Scotland,[45] who although hardly twenty-three years of age, brings to
the study of Scripture a very sound judgment, and has a vast store of
knowledge, is come from the end of the world, from Scotland, to your
academy, in order to be more fully established in God’s truth. I have
hardly ever met a man who expresses himself with so much spirituality
and truth on the Word of the Lord.’ Such is the testimony given in
Germany, by a Frenchman, to the young reformer of Scotland.

[Sidenote: LUTHER’S ILLNESS.]

Will Hamilton remain at Marburg? Shall he not see Luther, Melanchthon,
and the other doctors of the Reformation? It has been generally
supposed that he did go to Wittenberg; but there is no evidence
of this, either in the University registers or in Luther’s or
Melanchthon’s letters. This tradition, therefore, appears to us to be
unfounded. As Hamilton had, however, formed the intention of visiting
Luther when he left Scotland, what motive led him to relinquish his
design? It was this. Early in July, at the very time when the young
Scotchman might have gone to Wittenberg, a report was spread abroad
that Luther had suddenly fallen ill. On July 7 he had lost the use of
his senses, his body lay motionless, the heart scarcely beating, while
his wife and his weeping friends stood round the bed, on which he was
stretched as if dead. He came to himself, however, and, persuaded that
he was at the point of death,[46] he resigned himself entirely to the
hand of God and prayed with much fervency. At the same time the report
ran in Germany that the plague was raging at Wittenberg. When Luther
had recovered a little strength, he wrote to Spalatin:--‘May the Lord
have pity on me and not forsake _his_ sinner!’[47] Soon after, he had
fresh attacks. ‘Ah,’ said he to his friends, ‘people fancy, because
joy usually brightens my countenance, that I walk on roses, but God
knows how rugged life is for me!’ One day, when Jonas had come to take
supper with him, Luther, feeling ill during the meal, suddenly rose,
and after taking a few steps fell in a fainting fit. ‘Water, water,’
cried he, ‘or I die.’ As he lay on the bed, he lifted up his eyes and
said: ‘O my beloved Lord, thou art master of life and of death, do
as it pleaseth thee. Only remember that it is thou who didst bid me
undertake this work, and that it is for thy truth, for thy Word, that I
have fought.’

On the following day, at six o’clock in the evening, as Jonas again
stood by the bedside of his friend, he heard him calling on the Lord,
sometimes in German, sometimes in Latin. The thought that he had not
done enough, nor suffered enough for his Saviour, distressed him.
‘Ah,’ said he, ‘I have not been judged worthy to shed my blood for
the love of Christ, as several of my brethren have done.’ Presently a
thought consoled him: ‘St. John the Evangelist also,’ said he, ‘had not
that honor--he who nevertheless wrote a book (Apocalypse) against the
papacy, far more severe than any that I could ever write.’[48] After
that he had his little John brought to him, and looking at the mother
of the boy, he said, ‘You have nothing; but God will provide for you.’

[Sidenote: THE PLAGUE AT WITTENBERG.]

The plague, as we have said, was at Wittenberg. Two persons died of it
in Melanchthon’s house; one of his sons was attacked, and one of the
sons of Jonas lost his life. Hans Luft, the printer of Marburg, who was
at Wittenberg on business, fell ill, and his mind wandered.[49] He was
removed to Marburg, where Hamilton was.

Terror became general at Wittenberg. All who could do so, and
especially the students, quitted the town; the university was
transferred to Jena. Luther pressed the elector to go thither with
his family, but, he added, in such calamities pastors must bide at
their post. He remained therefore, and Melanchthon, who was visiting
the churches in Saxony, received orders to go to Jena and resume his
lectures there. During this period Luther, having regained some little
strength, was visiting the sick and consoling the dying. In the course
of a few days he had about him eighteen dead, some of whom even expired
almost in his arms.[50] He received into his house the poor, widows,
orphans, and even the plague-stricken; his house become a hospital.[51]
His wife and his son were attacked. ‘What conflicts!’ cried he, ‘what
terrors! No matter; though the malady waste the body, the Word of
God saves the soul.’ He again fell ill himself, and thinking that he
was nigh to death, he wrote to Melanchthon: ‘Pray for me, vile and
miserable worm. I have only one glory, and that is that I have taught
purely the word of God.[52] He who has begun the work will complete it.
I seek only Him; I thirst for nothing but his grace.’

Such, doubtless, were the circumstances which detained Hamilton at
Marburg. On hearing that in consequence of the plague the courses of
lectures had partly at least been transferred to Jena, he gave up
Wittenberg; and thus is explained quite naturally the want of original
documents respecting his alleged sojourn at the Saxon university. A
very painful sacrifice was thus demanded of him. Lambert resolved
to turn the disappointment to good account. Having a high idea of
the faith, the judgment, and abilities of Hamilton, he begged him to
compose some _theses_ on the evangelical doctrine, and to defend them
publicly. Everyone supported this request; for an academical solemnity,
at which a foreign theologian belonging to the royal family of
Scotland should hold the chief place, could not fail to throw a certain
_éclat_ over the new university. Hamilton consented.[53] His subject
was quickly chosen. In his eyes a man’s religion was not sound unless
it had its source in the Word of God and in the inmost experience of
the soul which receives that Word, and is thereby led into the truth.
He deemed it necessary to present the doctrine in this practical
aspect, rather than to lose himself in the speculative theorems of an
obscure scholasticism.

On the appointed day Hamilton entered the great hall of the university,
in which were gathered professors, students, and a numerous audience
besides. He announced that he was about to establish a certain number
of truths respecting _the law and the Gospel_, and that he would
maintain them against all comers. These theses, all of a practical
character, had however somewhat of that dialectical spirit which
distinguished at a subsequent period the philosophical schools of
Scotland, and were drawn up in a pure and _lapidary_ style which
secures for this theologian of three-and-twenty a noteworthy place
among the doctors of the sixteenth century.

[Sidenote: HAMILTON’S THESES.]

‘There is a difference, and even an opposition, between the law and
the Gospel,’ said Hamilton. ‘The law showeth us our sin; the Gospel
showeth us remedy for it. The law showeth us our condemnation; the
Gospel showeth us our redemption. The law is the word of ire; the
Gospel is the word of grace. The law is the word of despair; the Gospel
is the word of comfort. The law is the word of unrest; the Gospel is
the word of peace.[54] The law saith, Pay thy debt; the Gospel saith,
Christ hath paid it. The law saith, Thou art a sinner--despair, and
thou shalt be damned; the Gospel saith, Thy sins are forgiven thee:
be of good comfort, thou shalt be saved. The law saith, Make amends
for thy sins; the Gospel saith, Christ hath made it for thee. The law
saith, The Father of heaven is angry with thee; the Gospel saith,
Christ hath pacified him with his blood. The law saith, Where is thy
righteousness, goodness, and satisfaction? the Gospel saith, Christ
is thy righteousness, thy goodness, thy satisfaction. The law saith,
Thou art bound and obliged to me, to the devil and to hell; the Gospel
saith, Christ hath delivered thee from them all.’[55]

The attack began, and the defence of the young Master of Arts was as
remarkable as his exposition. Even though he made use of the syllogism,
he shook off the dust of the school, and put something perspicuous
and striking in its place. When one opponent maintained that a man is
justified by the law, Hamilton replied by this syllogism:--

‘That which is the cause of condemnation cannot be the cause of
justification.

‘The law is the cause of condemnation.

‘Therefore the law is not the cause of justification.’

His phraseology, clear, concise, and salient--rare qualities in
Germany, except perhaps in Luther--his practical, transparent,
conscientious Christianity--struck the minds of his hearers. Certainly,
said Lambert, Hamilton has put forward thoroughly Christian axioms, and
has maintained them with a great deal of learning.[56]

Hamilton engaged in other public disputations besides this. As faith in
Christ and justification by faith is the principle which distinguishes
Protestantism from other Christian systems, he felt bound to establish
the nature, importance, and influence of that doctrine. He believed
that faith is born in a man’s heart when, as he hears or reads the
Word of God, the Holy Spirit bears witness in his heart to the main
truth which is found in it, and shows him with clear proof that Jesus
is really an almighty Saviour. Faith was for the young Scotchman a
divine work, which he carefully distinguished from a faith merely
human. On this subject he laid down and defended the following
propositions:--‘He who does not believe the Word of God, does not
believe God himself. Faith is the root of all that is good; unbelief is
the root of all evil. Faith makes friends of God and of man; unbelief
makes enemies of them. Faith lets us see in God a father full of
gentleness; unbelief presents him to us as a terrible judge. Faith sets
a man steadfast on a rock; unbelief leaves him constantly wavering and
tottering. To wish to be saved by works is to make a man’s self his
saviour, instead of Jesus Christ. Wouldst thou make thyself equal with
God? Wouldst thou refuse to accept the least thing from him without
paying him the value of it?’

Fryth, who doubtless took part in the discussion, was so much struck
with these theses that he translated them into English, and by that
means they have come down to us. ‘The truths which Hamilton expounded
are such,’ said he, ‘that the man who is acquainted with them has the
_pith_ of all divinity.’[57] ‘This little treatise is short,’ said
others who listened to him, ‘but in effect it comprehendeth matter able
to fill large volumes.’[58] Yes, Christ is the author of redemption, and
faith is the eye which sees and receives him. There are only these two
things: Christ sacrificed and the eye which contemplates him. The eye,
it is true, is not man’s only organ; we have besides hands to work,
feet to walk, ears to hear, and other members more for our service. But
none of all these members can see, but only the eye.[59]

[Sidenote: HAMILTON’S THESES.]

In the midst of all these labors, however, Hamilton was thinking of
Scotland. It was not of the benefices which had been conferred on him,
not of St. Andrews, nor of the misty lochs or picturesque glens; it was
not even of his family, or of his friends that he thought the most.
What occupied his mind night and day was the ignorance and superstition
in which his countrymen were living. What powerfully appealed to him
was the necessity of giving glory to God and of doing good to his own
people. And yet would it not be madness to return to them? Had he not
seen the animosity of the Scottish clergy? Did he not know well the
power of the primate Beatoun? Had he not, only six or seven months
before, left his country in all haste? Why then these thoughts of
returning? There was good reason for them. Hamilton had been fortified
in spirit during his sojourn at Marburg; his faith and his courage had
increased; by living with decided Christians, who were ready to give
their lives for the Gospel, he had been tempered like steel and had
become stronger. It could not be doubted that extreme peril awaited
him in Scotland; his two friends, John Hamilton and Wynram, did not
understand his impatience and were resolved to wait. But neither their
example nor the urgency of Lambert could quench the ardor of the young
hero. He felt the sorrow of parting with Lambert and of finally giving
up the hope of seeing Luther and Melanchthon; but he had heard God’s
call; his one duty was to answer to it. About the end of autumn 1527
he embarked with his faithful servant and sailed towards the shores of
Caledonia.




                              CHAPTER IV.

  EVANGELIZATION, TRIBULATIONS, AND SUCCESS OF HAMILTON IN SCOTLAND.

              (END OF 1527 TO THE END OF FEBRUARY 1528.)


The Church of Rome, in the sixteenth century, especially in Scotland,
was far from being apostolic, although it assumed that title: nothing
was less like St. John or St. Peter than its primates and its prelates,
worldlings and sometimes warriors as they were. The real successors
of the apostles were those reformers, who taught the doctrines of the
apostles, labored as they did, and like them were persecuted and put
to death. The theocratic and political elements combined in Rome have,
with certain exceptions, substituted the law, that is, outward worship,
ceremonial ordinances, pilgrimages and the exercises of ascetic
life for the Gospel. The Reformation was a powerful reaction of the
evangelical and moral element against the legal, sacerdotal, ascetic
and ritualistic elements which had invaded the Church. This reaction
was about to display its energy in Scotland, and Hamilton was to be at
first its principal organ.

Already, before his return, the sacred books had arrived in large
numbers in the principal ports of the kingdom. Attention had been
awakened; but at the same time ignorance, dishonesty, and fanaticism
had risen in revolt against the Evangelical Scriptures. The priests
said that the _Old_ Testament was the only true one, and pretended
that the _New_ had been recently invented by Martin Luther.[60]
Consequently, in August 1527, the earl of Angus, at the instigation of
Dunbar, bishop of Aberdeen, had confirmed the ordinance of 1525, and
had decreed that the king’s subjects who circulated the sacred books
should be visited with the same penalties as people from abroad. If,
therefore, a vessel arrived at Leith, Dundee, St. Andrews, or Aberdeen,
the king’s officers immediately went on board, and if any copies of
the _New_ Testament were found there, the ship and the cargo were
confiscated and the captain was imprisoned.

[Sidenote: HAMILTON’S ZEAL.]

Some time after this ordinance, the ship which carried Hamilton reached
port, and although this young Christian always had his New Testament
in his pocket, he landed without being arrested and went his way to
Kincavil. It was about the end of 1527. Patrick tenderly loved his
mother and his sister; everybody appreciated his amiable character;
the servants and all his neighbors were his friends. This gentleness
made his work easier. But his strength lay above all in the depth and
the sincerity of his Christian spirit. ‘Christ bare our sins on his
back and bought us with his blood’;[61] this was the master chord which
vibrated in his soul. In setting forth any subject he silenced his own
reasonings and let the Bible speak. No one had a clearer perception
of the analogies and the contrasts which characterize the evangelical
doctrine. With these intellectual qualities were associated eminent
moral virtues; he practised the principles which he held to be true
with immovable fidelity; he taught them with a touching charity; he
defended them with energetic decision. Whether he approached a laborer,
a monk, or a noble, it was with the desire to do him good, to lead
him to God. He taxed his ingenuity to devise all means of bearing
witness to the truth.[62] His courage was firm, his perseverance
unflagging, and in his dignified seriousness his youth was forgotten.
His social position added weight to his influence. We have seen that
the aristocracy played a far larger part in Scotland than in any other
European country. It would have seemed a strange thing to the Scots
for a man of the people to meddle with such a matter as reform of the
Church; but if the man that spoke to them belonged to an illustrious
family, the position which he took appeared to them legitimate, and
they were all inclined to listen to his voice. Such was the reformer
whom God gave to Scotland.

Patrick’s elder brother, Sir James Hamilton, on succeeding to the
estates and titles of his father, had been appointed sheriff of
Linlithgowshire. James had not the abilities of his brother, but he was
full of uprightness and humility. His wife, Isabella Sempill, belonged
to an ancient Scottish family, and ten young children surrounded this
amiable pair. Catherine, Patrick’s sister, bore some resemblance to
him; she had much simplicity of character, sense, and decision. But it
was most of all in the society of his mother, the widow of the valiant
knight, that Patrick sought and enjoyed the pure and keen delight
of domestic life. He opened his heart to all these beloved ones; he
made known to them the peace which he had found in the Gospel, and
by degrees his relations were brought to the faith, of which they
afterwards gave brilliant evidence.

[Sidenote: HAMILTON’S PREACHING.]

The zeal which was consuming him could not long be confined within the
limits of his own family. His love for the Gospel silenced within him
all fear and, full of courage, he was ready to endure the insults which
his faith might bring on him. ‘The bright beams of the true light,
which by God’s grace were planted in his heart, began most abundantly
to burst forth, as well in public as in secret.’[63] Hamilton went
about in the surrounding country, his name securing for him everywhere
a hearty welcome. When the young laird was seen approaching, laborers
left the field which they were cultivating, women came out of every
poor cottage, and all gathered about him respectfully and lent him an
attentive ear.[64] Priests, citizens from the neighboring town, women
of rank, lords quitting their castles, people of all classes, met
together there.[65] Patrick received them with a kindly smile and a
graceful bearing. He addressed to souls that first word of the Gospel,
_Be converted!_ but he also pointed out the errors of the Romish
Church.[66] His hearers returned, astonished at his knowledge of the
Scriptures, and the people touched by the salvation which he proclaimed
increased in number from day to day. Southward of the manor-house of
Kincavil extends a chain of rocky hills, whose lofty peaks and slopes,
dotted with clumps of trees, produced in the midst of that district a
most picturesque effect. There more than once he talked freely about
the Gospel with the country-folk, who in the heat of the day came to
rest under the shadow of the rocks. Sometimes he climbed the hills,
and from their tops contemplated the whole range of country in which
he announced the good news. That _Craig_ still exists, a picturesque
monument of Hamilton’s Gospel mission.[67]

He began soon to set forth the Gospel in the lowly churches of the
neighboring villages; then he grew bolder and preached even in the
beautiful sanctuary of St. Michael, at Linlithgow, in the midst of
numerous and rich altars. No sooner had the report of his preaching
begun to get abroad than everyone wanted to hear him. The name which
he bore, his gracious aspect, his learning, his piety, drew about
him day by day a larger number of hearers; for a long time such a
crowd had not been seen flocking into the church.[68] Linlithgow, the
favorite abode of the court, was sometimes bright with unaccustomed
splendor. The members of the royal family, and the most illustrious
nobles of the kingdom, came to unite with the citizens and the people
in the church. This fashionable auditory, whose looks were fixed on
the reformer of three-and-twenty, did not at all intimidate him; the
plainness, clearness, and conciseness which characterized Hamilton’s
style were better adapted to act on the minds of the great than pompous
declamation. ‘Knowest thou what this saying means,’ said he, ‘_Christ
died for thee_? Verily that thou shouldest have died perpetually: and
Christ, to deliver thee from death, died for thee, and changed thy
perpetual death into his own death; for thou madest the fault and He
suffered the pain.... He desireth nought of thee but that thou wilt
acknowledge what He hath done for thee and bear it in mind: and that
thou wouldst help others for his sake, even as He hath holpen thee for
nought and without reward.’[69]

[Sidenote: HIS MARRIAGE.]

Among his hearers was a young maiden of noble birth who with joy
received the good news of salvation. Hamilton recognized in her a soul
akin to his own. He had adopted the principles of Luther on marriage;
he was familiar with the conversations which the reformer had with his
friends on the subject and which were reported all over Germany. ‘My
father and mother,’ said Luther one day, ‘lived in the holy state of
marriage, even the patriarchs and prophets did the same; why should
not I do so? Marriage is the holiest state of all, and the celibacy of
priests has been the cause of abominable sins. We must marry and thus
defy the pope, and assert the liberty which God gives us and which Rome
presumes to steal away.’[70] However, to marry was a daring step for
Hamilton to take, considering _the present necessity_, as speaks the
apostle Paul. As abbot of Ferne, and connected with the first families
of Scotland, his marriage must needs excite to the highest degree the
wrath of the priests. Besides which, it would call for great decision
on the part of Patrick and genuine sympathy on the part of the young
Christian maiden, to unite themselves as it were in sight of the
scaffold. The marriage however took place, probably at the beginning
of 1528. ‘A little while before his death,’ says Alesius, ‘he married
a noble young maiden.’[71] It is possible that the knowledge of this
union did not pass beyond the family circle. It remained unknown to his
biographers till our own time.[72]

While Hamilton was preaching at Linlithgow, archbishop Beatoun was
at the monastery of Dunfermline, about four leagues distant, on the
other side of the Forth. The prelate, when he learnt the return of
the young noble who had so narrowly escaped him, saw clearly that a
missionary animated with Luther’s spirit, thoroughly familiar with the
manners of the people, and supported by the powerful family of the
Hamiltons, was a formidable adversary. News which crossed the Forth
or came from Edinburgh, did but increase the apprehensions of the
archbishop. Beatoun was a determined enemy of the Gospel.[73] Having
governed Scotland during the minority of the king, he was indignant
at the thought of the troubles with which Hamilton’s preaching menaced
the Church and the realm. The clergy shared the alarm of their head;
the city of St. Andrews, especially, which one Scottish historian has
called ‘the metropolis of the kingdom of darkness’,[74] was in a state
of great agitation. The dean Spence, the rector Weddel, the official
Simson, the canon Ramsay and the heads of various monasteries consulted
together and exclaimed that peril was imminent, and that it was
absolutely necessary to get rid of so dangerous an adversary.

The archbishop, therefore, took counsel with his nephew and some other
clerics as to the best means of making away with Hamilton. Great
prudence was needful. They must make sure of the inclinations of
Angus; they must divert the attention of the young king who, with his
generosity of character, might wish to save his relation; they must in
some way ensnare the evangelist, for Beatoun did not dream of sending
men-at-arms to seize Patrick at Kincavil in the house of his brother
the sheriff. So the archbishop resolved to have recourse to stratagem.
In pursuit of the scheme, Hamilton, only a few days after his marriage,
received an invitation to go to St. Andrews for the purpose of a
friendly conference with the archbishop concerning religion. The young
noble, who the year before had divined the perfidious projects of
the clergy, knew well the import of the interview which was proposed
to him, and he told those who were dear to him that in a few days
he should lose his life.[75] His mother, his wife, his brother, his
sister, exerted all their influence to keep him from going; but he was
determined not to flee a second time; and he asked himself whether the
moment was not come in which a great blow might be struck, and the
triumph of the Gospel be attained. He declared therefore that he was
ready to go to the Scottish Rome.

[Sidenote: HAMILTON AT ST. ANDREWS.]

On his arrival at St. Andrews the young reformer presented himself
before the archbishop, who gave him the most gracious reception. Is it
possible that these good graces were sincere, and not treacherous as
was generally supposed? Did Beatoun hope to win him back by such means
to the bosom of the Church? Every one in the palace testified respect
to Hamilton. The prelate had provided for him a lodging in the city, to
which he was conducted. Patrick, when he saw the respect with which he
was treated, felt still more encouraged to set forth frankly the faith
that was in his heart. He went back to the castle where the conference
with the archbishop and the other doctors was to be held. All of them
displayed a conciliatory spirit: all appeared to recognize the evils
in the church; some of them seemed even to share on some points the
sentiments of Hamilton. He left the castle full of hope. He thought
that he could see in the dense wall of Romish prejudices a small
opening which by the hand of God might soon be widened.

He lost no time. Left perfectly free he went and came whithersoever
he would, and was allowed to defend his opinions without any obstacle
being thrown in his way. This was part of the plot. If the archbishop
himself were capable of some kindly feeling, his nephew David and
several others were pitiless. They wished Hamilton to speak, and
to speak a good deal; he must be taken in the very fact, that they
might dare to put him to death. Among those who listened to him there
were present, without his being aware of it, some who took notes
of his sayings and immediately made their report. His enemies were
not satisfied with letting him move about freely in private houses,
but even the halls of the university were opened to him; he might
‘teach there and discuss there openly,’ as an eyewitness tells
us,[76] respecting the doctrines, the sacraments, the rites and the
administration of the Church. Many people were pleased to hear this
young noble announce, with the permission of the primate of Scotland,
dogmas so strange. ‘They err,’ said Hamilton to his audience, ‘whose
religion consists in men’s merits, in traditions, laws, canons, and
ceremonies, and who make little or no mention of the faith of Christ.
They err who make the Gospel to be a law, and Christ to be a Moses. To
put the law in the place of the Gospel is to put on a mourning gown
in the feast of a marriage.’[77] Then he repeated what he had already
asserted at Marburg, what Luther had said, what Jesus Christ had
said:--‘It is not good works which make a good man; but it is a good
man who makes good works.’[78] It was above all for this proposition,
so Christian, so clear, that he was to be attacked.

The enemies of the young reformer exulted when they heard him avow
principles so opposed to those of Rome; but desirous of compromising
him still further, they engaged him in private conversations, in
which they tried hard to draw him to the extreme of his anti-Romish
convictions. Nevertheless, there were among his hearers righteous men
who loved this young Scotchman, so full of love for God and for men,
who went to his house, confided to him their doubts, and desired his
guidance. He received them with kindliness, frequently invited them to
his table, and sought to do good to them all.

[Sidenote: HIS DISCUSSION WITH ALESIUS.]

Among the canons of St. Andrews was Alexander Alane, better known under
the Latin name of Alesius, who in his boyhood had narrowly escaped
death on Arthur’s Seat. This young man, of modest character, with a
tender heart, a moderate yet resolute spirit, and a fine intelligence
which had been developed by the study of ancient languages, had made
great progress in scholastic divinity, and had taken his place at an
early age among the adversaries of the Reformation.[79] His keenest
desire was to break a lance with Luther; controversy with the reformer
was at that time the great battle-field on which the doctors, young
and old, aspired to give proof of their valor. As he could not measure
himself personally with the man whom he named _arch-heretic_, Alesius
had refuted his doctrine in a public discussion held at the university.
The theologians of St. Andrews had covered him with applause.[80]
‘Assuredly,’ said they, ‘if Luther had been present, he would have
been compelled to yield.’ The fairest hopes, too, were entertained
respecting the young doctor. Alesius, alive to these praises, and a
sincere Catholic, thought that it would be an easy task for him to
convince young Hamilton of his errors. He had been acquainted with him
before his journey to Marburg; he loved him; and he desired to save him
by bringing him back from his wanderings.

With this purpose he visited the young noble. Conversation began.
Alesius was armed cap-à-pié, crammed with scholastic learning,[81]
and with all the formulæ _quomodo sit, quomodo non sit_. Hamilton
had before him nothing but the Gospel, and he replied to all the
reasonings of his antagonist with the clear, living, and profound
word of the Scriptures. It has happened more than once that sincere
men have embraced the truth a little while after having pronounced
against it. Alesius, struck and embarrassed, was silenced, and felt as
if ‘the morning-star were rising in his heart.’ It was not merely his
understanding that was convinced. The breath of a new life penetrated
his soul, and at the moment when the scaffolding of his syllogisms
fell to the ground, the truth appeared to him all radiant with glory.
He did not content himself with that first conference, but frequently
came again to see Hamilton, taking day by day more and more pleasure
in his discourse. His conscience was won, his mind was enlightened.
On returning to his priory cell, he pondered with amazement on the
way he had just gone. ‘The result of my visit has been contrary to
all my expectation,’ said he; ‘I thought that I should bring Hamilton
back to the doctrine of Rome, and instead of that he has brought me to
acknowledge my own error.’[82]

[Sidenote: ALEXANDER CAMPBELL.]

One day another speaker came to Hamilton. This was a young
ecclesiastic, Alexander Campbell, prior of the Dominicans, who
like Alesius had a fine genius, great learning,[83] and a kindly
disposition.[84] The archbishop, who knew his superiority, begged
him to visit Hamilton frequently, and to spare no efforts to win him
back to the Roman doctrine. Campbell obeyed his chief; but while
certain priests or monks craftily questioned the young doctor with
the intention of destroying him, the prior of the Dominicans had it
in mind to save him. It is a mistake to attribute to him from the
first any other intention. Campbell, like Alesius, was open to the
truth, but the love of the world and its favors prevailed in him, and
therein lay his danger. He frequently conversed with Hamilton on the
true sense of the Scriptures, and acknowledged the truth of Patrick’s
words. ‘Yes,’ said the prior, ‘the Church is in need of reformation
in many ways.’[85] Hamilton, pleased with this admission, hoped to
bring him to the faith, like Alesius, and having no fear of a friend
whom he already looked on almost as a brother, he kept back none of his
thoughts, and attached himself to him with all sincerity. But after
several interviews, Campbell received orders from the archbishop to
go to him to give an account of the result of his proceedings. This
request astonished and disturbed the prior; and when he stood before
Beatoun and his councillors, he was intimidated, overpowered by fear at
the thought of offending the primate, and of incurring the censures of
the Church. He would fain have obeyed at the same time both the Lord
and the bishop,--he would fain have served God and _sucked-in_ honors;
but he saw no means of reconciling the Gospel and the world. When he
saw all looks turned on him he was agitated, he wavered, and told
everything which the young noble of Kincavil had said to him in the
freedom of brotherly confidence. He appeared to condemn him, and even
consented to become one of his judges. Choosing ease, reputation, and
life rather than persecution, opprobrium, and death, Campbell turned
his back on the truth and abandoned Hamilton.

When the young reformer heard of Campbell’s treachery, it was a great
sorrow to him; but he was not disheartened. On the contrary, he went
on teaching with redoubled zeal, both at his own lodging and in the
university. He bore witness, ‘with hand and with foot,’ as used to be
said at that time (that is to say, with all his heart and with all
his might), to the Word of God. For making a beginning of the work of
reformation there was no place in the kingdom more important than St.
Andrews. Hamilton found there students and professors, priests, monks
of the orders of St. Augustine, St. Francis, and St. Dominic, canons,
deans, members of the ecclesiastical courts, nobles, jurisconsults,
and laymen of all classes. This was the wide and apparently favorable
field on which for one month he scattered plentifully the divine
seed.[86]

The adversaries of the New Testament, when they saw the success of
Hamilton’s teachings, grew more and more alarmed every day. There
must be no more delay, they thought; all compliance must cease, and
the great blow must be struck. Patrick was cited to appear at the
archiepiscopal palace, to make answer to a charge of heresy brought
against him. His friends in alarm conjured him to fly: it seemed that
even the archbishop would have been glad to see him set out once more
for Germany. Lord Hamilton, earl of Arran, was at once Patrick’s uncle
and the primate’s nephew by marriage. The primate would naturally show
some consideration for a young man whose family he respected;[87] but
the obstacle was to be raised on the part of Hamilton himself. When
he crossed the North Sea to return to Scotland, he had resolved to
lay down his life, if need be, if only by his death _Christ should be
magnified_. The joy of a good conscience was so firmly established in
his soul that no bodily suffering could take it away.

As Patrick was not minded to fly from the scaffold, his enemies
determined to rid themselves of so formidable an antagonist.

One obstacle, however, lay in their way. Would the king, feeble and
thoughtless, but still humane and generous, permit them to sacrifice
this young member of his family, who excited the admiration even of his
adversaries? James V. felt really interested in Patrick: he wished to
see him, and had urged him to be reconciled with the bishops.[88] If
at the last moment the Hamiltons should entreat his pardon, how could
he refuse it? To evade this difficulty, the Roman clergy resolved to
get the young monarch removed out of the way. His father, James IV.,
used to make a yearly pilgrimage to the chapel of St. Duthac, founded
by James III., in Ross-shire, in the north of Scotland. The bishops
determined to persuade this prince, then only seventeen, to undertake
this long journey although it was then the depth of winter.[89] The
king consented, either because he was artfully misled by the priests,
or because, seeing that they were determined to get rid of Hamilton, he
would rather let them alone, and wash his hands of it. He set out for
St. Duthac,[90] and the priests immediately applied themselves to their
task.

[Sidenote: HAMILTON’S DEATH RESOLVED ON.]

The tidings of the imminent danger which threatened Patrick brought
anxiety into the manor-house of Kincavil. His wife, his mother, and
his sister were deeply moved: Sir James was determined not to confine
himself to useless lamentation, but to snatch his brother out of the
hands of his enemies. As sheriff of Linlithgow and captain of one of
the king’s castles, he could easily assemble some men-at-arms, and he
set out for St. Andrews at the head of a small force, confident that
in case of success James V., on his return from Duthac, would grant
him a bill of indemnity.[91] But when he reached the shores of the
Forth, which had to be crossed on his way into Fifeshire, he found
the waters in agitation from a violent storm, so that he could not
possibly make the passage.[92] Sir James and his men-at-arms stopped
on the coast, watching the waves with mournful hearts, and listening
in anguish to the roar of the storm. When the archbishop heard of the
appearance of a troop on the other side the Forth, he collected a large
body of horsemen to repulse the attack.[93] Those who were bent on
rescuing Hamilton were as full of ardor as those who were bent on his
destruction. Which of the two parties would win the day?




                              CHAPTER V.

                 APPEARANCE, CONDEMNATION, MARTYRDOM.

                   (END OF FEBRUARY-MARCH 1, 1528.)


The Word of God, when heard among men, has a twofold effect. The
first, as we have seen, is to win souls for God by the charm of the
divine love which it reveals; but that is not all. It not only gives
but demands: it insists on a new heart and a new life. The pride of
man revolts against the commandments of God: the heart incensed is
bitter against those who announce them, and impels to persecution. The
evangelical word, like the creative, separates light from darkness,
those who are obedient from those who rebel. This is what was then
taking place in Scotland.

[Sidenote: HAMILTON BEFORE THE BISHOPS.]

Hamilton rose early on the day on which he was to appear before the
bishop’s council.[94] Calm and yet fervent in spirit, he burned
with desire to make confession of the truth in the presence of that
assembly. Without waiting for the hour which had been fixed, he left
his abode and presented himself unexpectedly at the archbishop’s
palace, between seven and eight o’clock not long after sunrise. Beatoun
was already at his task, wishing to confer with the members of his
council before the sitting. They went and told him that Hamilton was
come and was asking for him. The archbishop took good care not to
give him a private interview. The several heresies of which Hamilton
was accused had been formulated. All who took part in the affair were
agreed as to the heads of the indictment. Beatoun resolved at once to
take advantage of Hamilton’s eagerness, and to advance the sitting. The
archbishop directed the court to constitute itself: each member took
his place according to his rank, and they had the accused before them.
One of the members of the council was commissioned to unfold before
the young doctor the long catalogue of heresies laid to his charge.
Hamilton was brought in. He had expected to converse with Beatoun in
private, but he found himself suddenly before a tribunal of sombre and
inquisitorial aspect; the lion’s jaws were open before him. However, he
remained gentle and calm before the judges, although he knew that they
had resolved to take away his life.

‘You are charged,’ said the commissioner, ‘with teaching false
doctrines: 1st, that the corruption of sin remains in the child after
baptism; 2nd, that no man is able by mere force of free will to do any
good thing; 3rd, that no one continues without sins so long as he is
in this life; 4th, that every true Christian must know if he is in the
state of grace; 5th, that a man is not justified by works but by faith
alone; 6th, that good works do not make a good man, but that a good
man makes good works; 7th, that faith, hope and charity are so closely
united that he who has one of these virtues has also the others; 8th,
that it may be held that God is cause of sin in this sense, that when
he withholds his grace from a man, the latter cannot but sin; 9th,
that it is a devilish doctrine to teach that remission of sins can be
obtained by means of certain penances; 10th, that auricular confession
is not necessary to salvation; 11th, that there is no purgatory; 12th,
that the holy patriarchs were in heaven before the passion of Jesus
Christ; and 13th, that the pope is Antichrist, and that a priest has
just as much power as a pope.’[95]

The young reformer of Scotland had listened attentively to this long
series of charges, drawn up in somewhat scholastic terms. In the
official indictment of the priests were included some doctrines for
the maintenance of which Hamilton was willing to lay down his life;
others which, he admitted, were fair subjects for discussion; but
the primate’s theologians had, in their zeal, piled up all that they
could find, true or false, essential or accidental, and had flung
the confused mass at the young man in order to crush him. One of the
clergy, who had visited him for the purpose of catching him unawares
in some heresy, had given out that the reformers made God the author
of sin. Patrick had denied it, saying,--and this was matter of
reproach in the 8th article,--that a sinner may get to such a pitch
of obduracy that God leaves him because he will no longer hear him.
Hamilton, therefore, made a distinction between the various heads of
the indictment. ‘I declare,’ said he, ‘that I look on the first seven
articles as certainly true, and I am ready to attest them with a solemn
oath. As for the other points they are matter for discussion; but I
cannot pronounce them false until stronger reasons are given me for
rejecting them than any which I have yet heard.’

The doctors conferred with Hamilton on each point; and the thirteen
articles were then referred to the judgment of a commission of divines
nominated by the primate. A day or two later, the commissioners made
their report, and declared all the articles, without exception, to
be heretical. The primate then, in order that the judgment might be
invested with special solemnity, announced that sentence would be
delivered in the cathedral on the last day of February, before an
assembly of the clergy, the nobility, and the people.[96]

[Sidenote: ANDREW DUNCAN’S ATTEMPT.]

While the priests were making ready to put to death one of the members
of the illustrious family of the Hamiltons, some noble-hearted laymen
were preparing to rescue him. The men of Linlithgow were not the only
ones to stir in the matter. John Andrew Duncan, laird of Airdrie, who,
as we have seen, was taken prisoner by the English at the battle of
Flodden, had, during his captivity, found friends in England, whom he
gained for the Gospel. On his return to Scotland, he had opened his
house as an asylum for the gospellers, and had become intimate with
the Hamiltons. Hearing of the danger that beset Patrick, indignant
at the conduct of the bishops and burning with desire to save the
young reformer, Duncan had armed his tenants and his servants, and
then marching towards the metropolitan city, intended to enter it by
night, to carry off his friend and conduct him to England. But the
archbishop’s horsemen, warned of the enterprise, set out and surrounded
Duncan’s feeble troop, disarmed them and made Duncan prisoner. The life
of this noble evangelical Christian was spared at the intercession of
his brother-in-law, who was in command of the forces which captured
him, but he had once more to quit Scotland.[97]

This attempt had been frustrated just at the moment when the
commissioners presented their report on the alleged heresies of
Hamilton. There was no longer any need for hesitation on the part
of the archbishop; he therefore ordered the arrest of the young
evangelist. Wishing to prevent any resistance, the governor of the
castle of St. Andrews, who was to carry out the order, waited till
night; and then putting himself at the head of a well-armed body of
men, he silently surrounded the house in which Hamilton dwelt.[98]
According to one historian, he had already retired to rest; according
to others, he was in the society of pious and devoted friends and was
conversing with them. The young reformer, while he appreciated the
affection and the eagerness of his friend Duncan, had no wish that
force should be employed to save him. He knew that of whatever nature
the war is, such must the weapons be; that for a spiritual war the
weapons must be spiritual; that Christ’s soldiers must fight only with
the sword of the holy Word. He remained calm in the conviction that God
disposes all that befalls his children in such wise that what the world
thinks an evil turns out for good to them. At the very moment when
the soldiers were surrounding his house, he felt himself encompassed
with solid ramparts, knowing that God marshals his forces around his
people, as if for the defence of a fortress. At that moment there were
knocks at the door: it was the governor of the castle. Hamilton knew
what it meant. He rose, went forward accompanied by his friends, and
opening the door asked the governor whom he wanted;[99] the latter
having answered, Hamilton said, ‘It is I!’ and gave himself up. Then
pointing to his friends he added, ‘You will allow them to retire;’[100]
and he entreated them not to make any resistance to lawful authority.
But these ardent Christians could not bear the thought of losing their
friend. ‘Promise us,’ they said to the governor, ‘promise us to bring
him back safe and sound.’ The officer only replied by taking away his
prisoner. On the summit of huge rocks which rise perpendicularly from
the sea, and whose base is ceaselessly washed by the waves, stood at
that time the castle whose picturesque remains serve still as a beacon
to the mariner. It was within the walls of this feudal stronghold that
Hamilton was taken and confined.

[Sidenote: HAMILTON IN THE CASTLE.]

The last day of February at length arrived, the day fixed by the
archbishop for the solemn assembly at which sentence was to be
pronounced. The prelate, followed by a large number of bishops, abbots,
doctors, heads of religious orders, and the twelve commissioners,
entered the cathedral--a building some centuries old, which was to
be cast down in a day by a word of Knox, and whose magnificent ruins
still astonish the traveller.[101] Beatoun sat on the bench of the
inquisitorial court, and all the ecclesiastical judges took their
places round him. Among these was observed Patrick Hepburn, prior of
St. Andrews, son of the earl of Bothwell, a worthless and dissolute
man, who had eleven illegitimate children, and who gloried in bringing
distress and dishonor into families. This veteran of immorality--who
ought to have been on the culprit’s seat, but whose pride was greater
even than his licentiousness--took his place with a shameless
countenance on the judges’ bench. Not far from him was David Beatoun,
abbot of Arbroath, an ambitious young man, who was already coveting
his uncle’s dignity, and who, as if to prepare himself for a long work
of persecution, vigorously pressed on the condemnation of Patrick.
In the midst of these hypocrites and fanatics sat one man in a state
of agitation and distress--the prior of the Dominicans, Alexander
Campbell--with his countenance gloomy and fallen. A great crowd of
canons, priests, monks, nobles, citizens, and the common people, filled
the church; some of them greedy for the spectacle which was to be
presented to them, others sympathizing with Hamilton. ‘I was myself
present,’ said Alesius, ‘a spectator of that tragedy.’[102]

The tramp of horses was presently heard: the party of troops sent to
seek Hamilton were come. The young evangelist passed into the church,
and had to mount a lofty desk, from which he could be easily seen and
heard by the assembly. All eyes were turned towards him. ‘Ah,’ said
pious folk, ‘if this young Christian had been a worldling, and had
given himself up, like the other lords of the court, to a life of
dissipation and rioting,[103] he would doubtless have been loved by
everybody; and this flower of youth which we now look on would have
blown amidst flatteries and delights. But because to his rank he has
added piety and virtue, he must fall under the blows of the wicked.’

[Sidenote: THE TRIAL.]

The proceedings began. The commissioners presented their report to the
court, duly signed. Then Alexander Campbell rose, for the archbishop
had charged him to read the indictment, and the unfortunate man had
not dared to refuse the horrible task. Hamilton was affected at seeing
that man whom he took for his friend appear as his accuser. However,
he listened with calmness to the address. His quietude, his noble
simplicity, his frankness, his trust in the Lord, impressed every one.
‘Truly,’ said Alesius, ‘no man ever more fully realized that saying,
‘Trust in the Lord and do good.’[104] A contest began between the
prior of the Dominicans and the young reformer. The latter, determined
to defend his faith in the presence of that great assembly, pointed
out the sophistry of his accusers, and established the truth by the
testimony of the Holy Scriptures. Campbell replied; but Hamilton,
always armed with the Word of God, rejoined, and his adversary was
silenced. Campbell, unhappy and distressed, inwardly convinced of
the doctrine professed by his old friend, could do no more. He
approached the tribunal and asked for instructions. The bishops and
the theologians, having no mind for a public debate, directed Campbell
to enumerate with a loud voice certain errors which had not yet been
reduced to formal articles, and to call Hamilton _heretic_.[105] This
was putting the poor Dominican to fresh torture; but he must hold on to
the end. He turned therefore towards Hamilton and said aloud--‘Heretic!
thou hast said that all men have the right to read the Word of God.
Thou hast said that it is against the divine law to worship images.
Thou hast said that it is idle to invoke the saints and the Virgin.
Thou hast said that it is useless to celebrate masses to save souls
from purgatory....’ Here the unfortunate Campbell stopped. ‘Purgatory!’
exclaimed Patrick; ‘nothing purifies souls but the blood of Jesus
Christ.’[106] At these words, Campbell turned to the archbishop and
said, ‘My lords, you hear him; he despises the authority of our holy
father the pope.’ Then, as if he meant to stifle by insults the voice
of the noble and courageous Christian, ‘Heretic,’ cried he, ‘rebel!
detestable! execrable! impious!...’ Hamilton, turning towards him,
said, in accents full of kindness, ‘My brother, thou dost not in thy
very heart believe what thou art saying.’[107] This was too much. The
word of tender reproof pierced like a dart the soul of the unhappy
Dominican. To find himself treated with so much gentleness by the man
whose death he was urging rent his heart, and an accusing cry was
heard in the depths of his soul.[108] Campbell was embarrassed and
silenced. Hamilton’s charity had heaped coals of fire on his head.[109]

Then began the taking of votes. The members of the court unanimously
condemning the innocent man, the primate rose and said,--‘_Christi
nomine invocato_,--We, James, by the grace of God archbishop of St.
Andrews, primate of Scotland, sitting in judgment in our metropolitan
church, have found Patrick Hamilton infected with divers heresies of
Martin Luther, which have been already condemned by general councils.
We therefore declare the said Hamilton a heretic; we condemn him; we
deprive him of all dignities, orders, and benefices, and we deliver him
over to the secular arm to be punished.’[110]

Having thus spoken, the primate laid on the table the sentence which
he had just read, and the bishops, priors, abbots, and doctors present
came and signed the document one by one. The primate next, with the
view of investing the act with more authority, invited such persons
as had a certain rank in the university to set their hands likewise
to it. Young boys--the earl of Cassilis, for example, who was only
thirteen--were of the number. The priests persuaded them that they
thereby did God service, and this was very flattering to such children.
The court rose, and an escort of some thousands of armed men conducted
Hamilton back to the castle.[111]

This numerous escort showed the fears which the clergy entertained.
Duncan’s attempt had failed, but Sir James Hamilton was still at
the head of his soldiers, and many other persons in Scotland were
interested about this young man. But nothing short of the death
of their victim could pacify the priests. They decided that the
sentence should be executed the same day. The primate was sure of the
coöperation of the government. Angus offered no opposition to this
iniquitous proceeding. Thus condemnation had hardly been pronounced
when the executioner’s servants were seen before the gate of St.
Salvator’s College, raising the pile on which Hamilton was to be burnt.

[Sidenote: AT THE STAKE.]

While they were heaping up the wood and driving in the stake, Patrick
was taking his last meal in one of the rooms of the castle; he ate
moderately, as his custom was, but without the slightest agitation; his
countenance was perfectly serene. He was going to meet death with good
courage, because it would admit him into his Father’s house; he hoped,
too, that his martyrdom would be gain to the Church of God. The hour
of noon struck: it was the time appointed for the execution. Hamilton
bade them call the governor of the castle. That officer appeared; he
was deeply affected. Hamilton, without leaving the table, inquired
of him _whether all was ready_?[112] The governor, whose heart was
breaking to see such innocence and nobleness requited with a cruel
death, could not find courage to pronounce a single word which would
point to the scaffold, and he answered with emotion, _Dii meliora_,
‘God give you a better fate!’ Hamilton understood him, got up, took the
Gospel in one hand, grasped affectionately with the other the hand of
the sympathizing governor, and went like a lamb to execution.[113] He
was accompanied by a few friends, his faithful servant followed, and
a numerous guard escorted him. He set the cross of Christ, which he
then bore, above all the delights of life.[114] His soul was full of a
glorious and solid joy, which was worth more than the joy of the world.

He arrived at the spot. All was ready--wood, coal, powder, and other
combustible material. Standing before the pile, he uncovered his head,
and lifting up his eyes to heaven, remained motionless for some moments
in prayer.[115] Then he turned to his friends and handed to one of
them his copy of the Gospels. Next, calling his servant, he took off
his cloak, his coat, and his cap, and with his arms stretched out
presented them to him and said--‘Take these garments, they can do me no
service in the fire, and they may still be of use to thee. It is the
last gift thou wilt receive from me, except the example of my death,
the remembrance of which I pray thee to bear in mind. Death is bitter
for the flesh ... but it is the entrance into eternal life, which
none can possess who deny Jesus Christ.’[116] The archbishop, wishing
to ingratiate himself with the powerful family of the Hamiltons, had
ordered some of his clergy to offer the young reformer his life on
condition of his submitting to the absolute authority of the pope.
‘No,’ replied Hamilton, ‘your fire will not make me recant the faith
which I have professed. Better that my body should burn in your flames
for having confessed the Saviour, than that my soul should burn in hell
for having denied him. I appeal to God from the sentence pronounced
against me, and I commit myself to his mercy.’[117]

[Sidenote: INSULTS OF CAMPBELL.]

The executioners came to fulfil their part. They passed an iron chain
round the victim’s body, and thus fastened him to the stake which
rose above the pile. Conscious that acute pains might lead him to
err, Hamilton prayed to God that the flames might not extort from him
the least word which should grieve his divine master. ‘In the name of
Jesus,’ he added, ‘I give up my body to the fire, and commit my soul
into the hands of the Father.’ Three times the pile was kindled, and
three times the fire went out because the wood was green.[118] Suddenly
the powder placed among the faggots exploded, and a piece of wood shot
against Hamilton flayed part of his body; but death was not yet come.
Turning to the deathsman, he said mildly, ‘Have you no dry wood?’
Several men hastened to get some at the castle. Alexander Campbell
was present, struggling with his evil conscience, and in a state of
violent agitation which rose with his distress and misery. The servants
of the executioner brought some dry wood and quickened the fire.
‘Heretic,’ said Campbell, ‘be converted! recant! call upon Our Lady;
only say, _Salve Regina_.’ ‘If thou believest in the truth of what thou
sayest,’ replied Patrick, ‘bear witness to it by putting the tip only
of thy finger into the fire in which my whole body is burning.[119]’
The unhappy Dominican took good care to do no such thing. He began
to insult the martyr. Then Hamilton said to him, ‘Depart from me,
messenger of Satan.’ Campbell, enraged, stormed round the victim like
a roaring lion. ‘Submit to the pope,’ he cried; ‘there is no salvation
but in union with him.’ Patrick was broken-hearted with grief at seeing
to what a pitch of obduracy his old friend had come. ‘Thou wicked man,’
said he to him, ‘thou knowest the contrary well enough; thou hast
told me so thyself.’ This noble victim, then, chained to the post and
already half-burnt, feeling himself to be superior to the wretched man
who was vexing him, spoke as a judge, commanded as a king, and said
to the Dominican, ‘I appeal thee before the tribunal seat of Christ
Jesus.’[120] At these words Campbell, ceasing his outcries, remained
mute, and leaving the place, fled affrighted into his monastery. His
mind wandered; he was seized with madness; he was like one possessed by
a demon, and in a little while he died.[121]

The tenderest affections succeeded these most mournful emotions in
Hamilton’s heart. He was drawing near to the moment of heart-rending
separations: but his thoughts, though turning heavenward, were not
turned away from his home at Kincavil. He had cherished the hope of
becoming a father; and some time afterwards his wife gave birth to a
daughter who was named Issobel. She lived at court in later years, and
received on more than one occasion tokens of the royal favor.[122]
Hamilton, who had always felt the tenderest respect for his mother,
did not forget her at the stake, but commended her to the love of his
friends.[123] After his wife and his mother, he was mindful of his
native place. ‘O God,’ said he, ‘open the eyes of my fellow-citizens,
that they may know the truth!’

[Sidenote: HAMILTON’S DEATH.]

While the martyr’s heart was thus overflowing with love, several of
the wretches who stood round him aggravated his sufferings. A baker
took an armful of straw and threw it into the fire to increase its
intensity; at the same moment a gust of wind from the sea quickened
the flames, which rose above the stake. The chain round Patrick’s body
was red-hot, and had by this time almost burnt him in two.[124] One of
the bystanders, probably a friend of the Gospel, cried to him, ‘If
thou still holdest true the doctrine for which thou diest, make us a
sign.’ Two fingers of his hand were consumed; stretching out his arm,
he raised the other three, and held them motionless in sign of his
faith.[125] The torment had lasted from noon, and it was now nearly six
o’clock. Hamilton was burnt over a slow fire.[126] In the midst of the
tumult he was heard uttering this cry, ‘O God, how long shall darkness
cover this realm, how long wilt thou permit the tyranny of men to
triumph?’ The end was drawing nigh. The martyr’s arm began to fail: his
three fingers fell. He said, ‘Lord Jesus! receive my spirit.’ His head
drooped, his body sank down, and the flames completed their ravage and
reduced it to ashes.

The crowd dispersed, thrilled by this grand and mournful sight, and
never was the memory of this young reformer’s death effaced in the
hearts of those who had been eyewitnesses of it. It was deeply engraven
in the soul of Alesius. ‘I saw,’ said he, several years afterwards
in some town in Germany, ‘I saw in my native land the execution of
a high-born man, Patrick Hamilton.’[127] And he told the story in
brief and penetrating words. ‘How singular was the fate of the two
Hamiltons! Father and son both died a violent death: the former died
the death of a hero; the latter, that of a martyr. The father had been
in Scotland the last of the knights of the Middle Ages; the son was
in the same land the first of the soldiers of Christ in the new time.
The father brought honor to his family by winning many times the palm
of victory in tournaments and combats; the son,’ says an illustrious
man, Théodore Beza, ‘ennobled the royal race of the Hamiltons, sullied
afterwards by some of its members, and adorned it with that martyr’s
crown which is infinitely more precious than all kingly crowns.’[128]




                              CHAPTER VI.

                               ALESIUS.

              (END OF FEBRUARY 1528 TO THE END OF 1531.)


[Sidenote: EFFECTS OF HAMILTON’S DEATH.]

That saying of Christian antiquity, ‘The blood of the martyrs is
the seed of the church,’ was perhaps never verified in a more
striking manner than in the case of Hamilton. The rumor of his death,
reverberating in loud echoes from the Highlands, ran over the whole
land. It was much the same as if the famous big cannon of Edinburgh
Castle, Mons Meg, had been fired and the report had been re-echoed from
the Borders to Pentland Frith. Nothing was more likely to win feudal
Scotland to the Reformation than the end, at once so holy and so cruel,
of a member of a family so illustrious. Nobles, citizens, and the
common people, nay, even priests and monks, were on the point of being
aroused by this martyrdom. Hamilton, who by his ministry was reformer
of Scotland, became still more so by his death. For God’s work, a
life long and laborious would have been of less service than were his
trial, condemnation, and execution, all accomplished on one day. By
giving up his earthly life for a life imperishable, he announced the
end of the religion of the senses, and began the worship in spirit and
in truth. The pile to which the priests had sent him became a throne,
his torture was a triumph, and when the _Crowns of the Martyrs_ were
celebrated in Scotland, voices were heard exclaiming:--

    E cœlo alluxit primam Germania lucem,
    Qua Lanus et vitreis qua fluit Albis aquis.
    Intulit huic lucem nostræ Dux prævius oræ.
    O felix terra! hoc si foret usa duce!
    Dira superstitio grassata tyrannide in omnes,
    Omniaque involvens Cimmeriis tenebris,
    Illa nequit lucem hanc sufferre. Ergo omnis in unum,
    Fraude, odiis, furiis, turba cruenta coit.
    Igne cremant. Vivus lucis qui fulserat igne,
    Par erat, ut moriens lumina ab igne daret.[129]

People everywhere wanted to know the cause for which this young
noble had given his life, and everyone took the side of the victim.
‘Just at the time when those cruel wolves,’ said Knox, ‘had, as they
supposed, clean devoured their prey, a great crowd surrounded them
and demanded of them an account for the blood which they had shed.’
‘The faith for which Hamilton was burnt,’ said many, ‘is that which we
will have.’ In vain was it that the guilty men, convicted by their own
consciences, were inflamed with wrath, and uttered proud threats;[130]
for everywhere the abuses and errors which up to that time had been
venerated were called in question.[131] Such were the happy results of
Hamilton’s death.

As the news spread, however, in foreign lands, very different feelings
were aroused. The doctors of Louvain, writing to the clergy of
Scotland, said, ‘We are equally delighted with the work which you
have done and with the way in which you have done it.’[132] Others
showed themselves not so much charmed with such hatred, stratagem,
and cruelty. A Christian man in England wrote to the Scottish nobles,
‘Hamilton is now living with Christ whom he confessed before the
princes of this world, and the voice of his blood, like the blood of
Abel, cries to heaven.’[133] Francis Lambert, especially his friend
and companion, was a prey to intense grief: he said to the landgrave,
‘Hamilton has offered up to God and to the Church, as a sacrifice, not
only the lustre of his rank, but also his youthful prime.’[134]

[Sidenote: JAMES V. FLIGHT.]

Some days after, the king returned from the north of Scotland, whither
the priests had sent him to worship some relics. Hamilton was no more.
What were the feelings of James V. when he learnt the death of this
noble scion of the royal house? We have no means of ascertaining them.
The young prince seemed to be more alive to the humiliation to which
the nobles subjected him than to the cruelty of the priests. Fretted
by the state of dependence in which Angus kept him, he made complaint
of it to Henry VIII.[135] Hunting was his only amusement, and for the
sake of enjoying it he had taken up his abode at Falkland Castle. On
a sudden, caring no more for hounds, foxes, or deer, he conceived
the project of regaining his freedom and his authority. This might
be fraught with grave consequences for the Reformation. If at a time
when the nobles kept a tight hand over the priestly party Hamilton had
been put to death, what might happen in Scotland when the priests, on
whom James leaned for support, should have once more seized the chief
power? The deliverance of the young king, however, was no easy matter.
A hundred men, selected by Angus, were about him night and day; and the
captain of his guards, the minister of the royal house and the lord
treasurer of the kingdom, had orders to keep their eyes constantly
upon him. He determined to resort to stratagem. He said one evening to
his courtiers, ‘We will rise very early to-morrow to go stag-hunting;
be ready.’ Everyone retired early to rest; but no sooner had the prince
entered his chamber than he called one of his pages in whom he had full
confidence. ‘Jockie,’ said he to him; ‘dost thou love me?’ ‘Better than
myself, Sire.’--‘Wilt thou run some risk for my sake?’ ‘Risk my life,
Sire.’ James explained to him his design; and then, disguising himself
as a groom, he went into his stables with the page and a valet. ‘We are
come to get the horses ready for the hunt to-morrow,’ said the three
grooms. Some moments elapsed; they went noiselessly out of the castle,
and set off at a gallop for Stirling Castle, where the queen-mother
was residing. The king arrived there in the early morning. ‘Draw up
the bridges,’ said he, so fearful was he of his pursuers. ‘Let down
the portcullises, set sentinels at all points.’ He was worn out with
fatigue, having been on horseback all night; but he refused to lie down
until the keys of all the gates had been placed under his pillow; then
he laid down his head upon them and went to sleep. On the morning after
this flight, Sir George Douglas, the king’s guardian, rose without
suspicion, thinking only of the hunt which James had appointed. While
he was taking certain precautions against the escape of the prince, a
stranger arrived and asked to speak to Sir George. It was the bailiff
of Abernethy. He entered the apartment of the royal gaoler, and
announced to him that in the course of the night the king had crossed
the bridge at Stirling. Sir George, startled at this unlooked-for news,
ran to the apartment of the king; he knocked, and as no one answered,
he had the door burst open. He looked round on all sides and exclaimed,
‘Treachery! the king is fled!’ He gave instant notice to his brother,
the earl of Angus, and sent messengers in all directions with orders
to arrest the king wheresoever he might be found. All was useless. The
tidings of this event being spread abroad, the enemies of the Douglases
hastened in crowds to Stirling. Without loss of time the king called
together the parliament and got a decree of banishment issued against
Angus. The latter, cast down suddenly from the height of greatness,
made his escape into England, passing safely through many difficulties
and dangers.

From that time James V. bore rule himself, so far at least as the
priests would allow him. In the character of this strange prince were
combined insatiable ambition and unparalleled feebleness, kindliness
full of affability and implacable resentment, a great regard for
justice and violent passions, an eager desire to protect the weak from
the oppression of the powerful and fits of rage which did not spare
even the lowly. The king reigned, but the clergy governed. As the
aim of James V. was to humble the nobles, a close alliance with the
clergy was a necessity for him, and once having taken the side of the
priests, he went to great lengths. The archbishops of St. Andrews and
Glasgow, the bishop of Dunkeld, and the abbot of Holyrood were placed
at the head of the government, and the most distinguished members
of the aristocracy were immediately imprisoned or sent into exile.
No Douglas, and no partisan even of that house, was allowed to come
within twelve miles of the court. Persecution attacked at the same
time the evangelical Christians; men who might have elevated their
country perished on the scaffold. The course pursued by the priests
tended to defeat their own end. The nobles, exasperated by the tyranny
of the bishops, began to feel the aversion for the Church of Rome
which they felt for its leading men. It was not indeed from the Romish
religion that they broke off, but only from an ambitious and merciless
hierarchy. But erelong we shall find the nobles, ever more and
more provoked by the clergy, beginning to lend a willing ear to the
evangelical doctrine of those who opposed the clergy.

[Sidenote: ALESIUS.]

Before that moment arrived, the conquests of the Reformation in
Scotland had begun. It counted already many humble but devout adherents
in convents, parsonage houses and cottages. At the head of the canons
of St. Augustine at St. Andrews was an immoral man, an enemy of the
Gospel, prior Hepburn; nevertheless, it was among them that the
awakening began. One of the canons, Alesius, had been confirmed in the
faith of the Gospel by the testimony which Hamilton had borne to the
truth during his trial, and by the simple and heroic beauty of his
death, which he had witnessed. On returning to his priory he had felt
more deeply the need of reformation. ‘Ah,’ said he, ‘how wretched is
the state of the Church! Destitute of teachers competent to teach her,
she finds herself kept far away from the Holy Scriptures,[136] which
would lead her into all truth.’ Alesius gave utterance at the same time
to the love which he felt even for the persecutors. ‘I do not hate the
bishops,’ he said; ‘I do not hate any of the religious orders; but
I tremble to see Christ’s doctrine buried under thick darkness, and
pious folk subjected to horrible tortures. May all learn what power
religion displays in men’s souls, by examining with care its divine
sources.’[137] The death of Hamilton was day after day the subject of
the canons’ conversation, and Alesius steadily refused to condemn him.

The worthless Hepburn and his satellites could not endure this. They
denounced Alesius to the archbishop as a man who had embraced the
faith for which Hamilton had been burnt, and they added that other
canons seemed likely to take the same path. In order to ascertain the
sentiments of the young man, the primate resolved to lay a snare for
him; and when a provincial synod met at St. Andrews, he appointed
Alesius to preach the sermon at its opening. Alesius entered the
pulpit, and, while avoiding anything which might uselessly offend his
hearers, he brought forward the doctrines of the truth, and boldly
urged the clergy to give an example of holy living, and not to be
stumbling-blocks to the faithful by scandalous licentiousness.

[Sidenote: HIS IMPRISONMENT.]

As they went out of the church, many expressed approval. The archbishop
was grave, and did not say a word; but Hepburn, a proud, violent, and
domineering man, whose shameless connexions, says Bayle,[138] were
known to everybody, thought that Alesius meant to point him out and to
excite his superiors against him, and he resolved to take vengeance
on him. His fears were not unfounded. The discourse of Alesius had
impressed the best men among the canons, and these, convinced of the
necessity of putting an end to public scandals, joined together, and
decided to carry to the king a complaint against the prior. Hepburn
was immediately informed of their purpose, and, being constitutionally
more fit for a soldier than for a canon, he took some armed men and
entered suddenly into the hall in which the conference was held, to the
great astonishment of the assembly. ‘Seize that man!’ said he to his
men-at-arms, pointing to Alesius. The young canon begged the prior to
keep his temper; but at these words the proud Hepburn, no longer master
of himself, drew his sword, advanced towards Alesius, and was going to
attack him, when two canons thrust themselves in front of their chief,
and turned the blow aside.[139] The impetuous prelate, however, was
not pacified, and, calling his men to his aid, he followed up Alesius,
in order to strike him. The latter, in confusion and terror, finding
himself within an inch of death, fell at the prior’s feet, and implored
him not to shed innocent blood. Hepburn, to show his contempt for him,
would not honor him so much as to pierce him with his sword, but gave
him several kicks, and this with such force that the poor canon fainted
away, and lay stretched on the floor before his enemy.[140] When he
came to himself, the fierce prior ordered the soldiers to take him to
prison, as well as the other canons; and they were all cast into a foul
and unwholesome dungeon.

These deeds of violence were noised abroad in the whole city, and
men’s feelings were divided between contempt and horror. Some of the
nobles, however, who had esteemed Hamilton, were profoundly indignant;
and they betook themselves to the king, and implored him to check the
intolerable tyranny of the prior. The young king gave orders that
all the canons should be set at liberty, and kindly added, that ‘he
would go himself and deliver them with his own hand if he did not
know that the place in which they were confined was infected with the
plague.’[141] The prior obeyed the royal command, but only in part; he
had Alesius thrust into a place that was fouler still.[142] And now he
was alone; had no longer a friend to clasp his hand; saw only hostile
faces. He knew that God was with him; but the sufferings inflicted on
him by the cruel prior, the filth, the bad smells, the vermin that
began to prey on him, the dark and perpetual night which filled that
frightful sink, endangered his life. It was known in the city that he
was ill; it was even reported one day that he was dead. James V. had
the prior of St. Augustine’s called before him, and commanded him
to liberate Alesius. The hypocritical prior swore by the saints that
the canon was free; and returning immediately to the priory, he gave
orders to bring out of the frightful dungeon the wretched man, who had
languished there for twenty days. Alesius came out, covered with filth,
and horrible to look on.[143] It was some comfort to him to once more
see the light of day. Some of the servants took him; they put off his
filthy garments, washed him carefully, and then put on him clean and
even elegant clothes.[144] Thus attired, the victim was led before
Hepburn, who forbade him to tell anyone how he had been treated. The
prior then summoned the city magistrates, and showing them, with an air
of triumph, Alesius, clean and well dressed, said--‘There is the man
who is reported to be kept in prison by me, and even to be dead. Go,
sirs, and give the lie to these calumnies.’ The wretch added to his
cruelty, falsehood, stratagem, and shamelessness.

The magistrates then turning with kind looks to the prisoner, required
him in the king’s name to tell the whole truth; and Alesius related
the shameful treatment which he had suffered. The prior, embarrassed,
could not deny the fact, but assured the provost and his colleagues
that from that moment the prisoner was and would remain free; on which
the council withdrew. The door had hardly closed before the enraged
prior loaded Alesius with reproaches, and ordered him to be taken
back to prison. A year passed, and neither king nor magistrate had
snatched from that savage beast the prey on which he set his mind. In
vain was it that Alesius had his complaint laid before the archbishop;
the latter replied that he had noticed in his discourse a leaning to
Lutheranism, and that he deserved the penalty which had fallen on him.
His deliverance seemed impossible.

[Sidenote: ALESIUS AGAIN IMPRISONED.]

One day, however, it became known in the monastery that the prior
was going out, and would be absent for several days. The canons,
immediately hastening to their unhappy friend, took him out of the
prison, conducted him into the open air, and paid him the most
affectionate attentions. By degrees his strength was restored; he took
courage, and one day he undertook to perform divine service at the
altar. But this act of devotion was suddenly interrupted. The prior
came back sooner than he was expected; he entered the church, and saw
Alesius officiating, and the chapter around him. The blood rose to his
face, and, without the slightest hesitation about interrupting divine
service, he ordered the prisoner to be carried off from the altar,
and again cast into his foul dungeon.[145] The canons, scandalized at
this order, rose from their stalls, and represented to their superior
that it was not lawful to interrupt the worship. Hepburn then allowed
Alesius to go on with the service; but as soon as it was finished,
he had him again confined in the place from which his colleagues had
rescued him.

In order to prevent the canons taking such liberties again, the prior
appointed as keeper of the prison one John Hay, a cruel and fanatical
priest, a man who would servilely carry out his master’s orders. The
canons, friends of Alesius, had no doubt that the prior had given the
office to that scoundrel with the intention of making away with the
prisoner. They said to one another, that if they did not bring about
his escape immediately, his life would be taken. The same day, before
Hay had entered upon his office, the first shades of night had scarcely
spread their veil over the ancient city when a few of them bent their
way secretly to the dungeon. They succeeded, though not without
difficulty, in penetrating to the place where the prisoner lay, and
told him that Hay had been named his keeper, and that consequently he
had nothing to look for but horrible tortures and certain death. They
added, that the king being absent, the opportunity would assuredly be
taken to get rid of him, as it had been in Hamilton’s case; and that
he could therefore only save his life by taking flight and quitting
Scotland.[146] Alesius was in amazement; to forsake his country and
his friends seemed to him an extreme course. He proposed to go first
to those with whom he was most closely connected, to take counsel with
them as to what he ought to do. ‘Take care not to do that,’ replied the
canons; ‘leave the country immediately without a word to anybody, for
as soon as the prior finds that you are no longer in your dungeon, he
will send horsemen to seize you on the road, or to carry you off from
your friends’ house.’

[Sidenote: HIS LOVE FOR SCOTLAND.]

Alesius could not make up his mind to follow this advice. The thought
of bidding adieu to Scotland, perhaps for ever, filled him with the
keenest sorrow.[147] His dream had been to consecrate all his energies
to the salvation of his fellow-citizens, and to do good even to those
who wronged him; and now he was to be condemned never again to see
Scottish faces, Edinburgh, its valleys, its lofty houses, its narrow
streets, its castle, Holyrood, the fertile plains of Caledonia, its
low hills covered with pasture, its heaths wrapped in mists, and its
marsh-lands, monotonous and yet poetic, which a gloomy sea environs
with its waters, now mournful and still, now agitated by the violence
of the winds. All these he must quit, though he had loved them from
childhood. ‘Ah!’ exclaimed he, ‘what is there more dear to souls
happily born than their native land?’[148] But presently he corrected
himself. ‘The Church,’ said he, ‘is the Christian’s country far more
than the place which gave him birth.[149] Assuredly the name of one’s
native land is very dear, but that of the Church is dearer still.’ He
perceived that if he did not go away, it was all over with him; and
that if he did go away, he might contribute, even from afar, towards
the triumph of the truth in the land of his fathers, and possibly might
return thither at a later day. ‘Go!’ repeated the noble canons, who
would fain save at any cost a life so precious; ‘all honest people
desire it.’ ‘Well,’ said Alesius, ‘I bend to the yoke of necessity;
I will go.’ The canons, who had everything ready, immediately got
him secretly out of the priory, conducted him beyond the city, and
gave him the money needful for his voyage. These generous men, less
advanced than their friend in knowledge of the Scriptures, perceived
that by his departure they would lose an inestimable treasure; but they
thought rather of him than of themselves--they strove to dissipate his
melancholy, and they called to his recollection the illustrious men
and the saints who had been compelled, like him, to fly far from the
wrath of tyrants. At length the solemn moment of farewell was come, and
all of them, deeply affected at the thought that perhaps they would
never meet again, burst into tears.[150] They paid the tribute due to
nature; for, as Calvin says, ‘The perfection of the faithful does not
lie in throwing off every affection, but in cherishing them for worthy
causes.’[151]

It was midnight. Alesius had to pass on foot across the north of
Fifeshire, then to cross the Firth of Tay and go on to Dundee, whence
a ship was on the point of sailing. He set out alone, and travelled
onwards in the thick darkness.[152] He directed his steps towards
the Tay, having the sea at a certain distance on his right; traversed
Leuchars, and arrived at Newport, opposite Dundee, where he had to
take a boat to cross the Firth. During this night-journey he was beset
with the saddest thoughts. ‘Oh!’ said he to himself, ‘what a life
full of bitterness is offered me--to forsake one’s kinsfolk and one’s
country;[153] to be exposed to the greatest dangers so long as the
vessel is not reached; to fly into foreign lands, where no hospitable
roof is ready to receive me; to have in prospect all the ills of exile;
to live among foreign peoples, where I have not a single friend; to
be called to converse with men speaking unknown languages; to wander
to and fro on the Continent at a time when so many vagabonds, driven
from their own country for fanatical or seditious opinions, are justly
looked on with suspicion. Oh! what anxieties, what griefs.’ His soul
sank within him; but having lifted up his eyes to Christ with full
trust, he was suddenly consoled, and after a rude conflict, he came
victorious out of the trial.[154]

His fears, however, were only too well founded. No sooner had the
violent Hepburn learnt the flight of the prisoner than he assembled
some horsemen, set off in pursuit of him,[155] and reached Dundee,
from which port he knew that a vessel was sailing for Germany. Alesius
was expecting every moment to see him appear. ‘How shameful in a
dignitary of the Church,’ said he, ‘is this man’s cruelty! What rage
moved him when he drew his sword against me! To what sufferings has he
exposed me, and with what perils has he threatened me! It is a complete
tragedy!...’

[Sidenote: FLIGHT OF ALESIUS.]

In the morning Alesius entered the town of Dundee. Fearing that, in
case of being arrested, he should fall into the hands of the prior, he
went immediately on board the ship, which was going to sail; and the
captain, who was a German and probably a Protestant, received him very
kindly.[156]

The prior and the horsemen, who had set out from St. Andrews, arrived
a little later at Dundee, and, alighting from their horses, began to
search for Alesius. He was nowhere to be found; the vessel had already
cleared the port. The prior, enraged to find that his prey had escaped
him, must needs vent his wrath on some one. ‘It is you,’ said he to a
citizen well known for his attachment to the Reformation, ‘it is you
who furnished the canon with the means of escape.’ This man denied
the charge, and then the provost or mayor, Sir James Scrymgeour of
Dornlope, avowed to the prior that he would with all his heart have
provided a vessel for Alesius; and, he added, ‘I would have given him
the necessary funds for the purpose of rescuing him from the perils to
which your cruelty exposed him.’ The Scrymgeours, whose chief was the
provost of Dundee, formed a numerous and powerful family, connected
with several other noble houses of the realm. They were not the only
family among the aristocracy which was favorable to the Gospel; several
illustrious houses had from the first welcomed the Reformation--the
Kirkaldys and the Melvilles of Fifeshire, the Scrymgeours and the
Erskines of Angus, the Forresters and Sandilands of Stirlingshire and
the Lothians, and others besides. The prior, who had not at all looked
for such a remonstrance as he had just received, went back, annoyed and
furious, to St. Andrews.

While the ship on which Alesius had embarked sailed towards France, the
refugee felt his own weakness, and found strength in the Lord. ‘O God,’
said he, ‘thou dost put the oil of thy compassion only into the vessel
of a steadfast and filial trust.[157] I must assuredly have gone down
to the gates of hell unless all my hope had been in thy mercy alone.’
The ship had not long been on her way when a westerly wind, blowing
violently, carried her eastward, drove her into the Sound, and made it
necessary to go ashore at Malmoe, in Sweden, in order to refit her.
Alesius was very lovingly welcomed there by the Scots who had settled
in the town.[158] At length he reached France, traversed part of the
coast of that kingdom,[159] then betook himself to Cologne, where he
was favorably received by archbishop Hermann, count of Wied.




                             CHAPTER VII.

   CONFESSORS OF THE GOSPEL AND MARTYRS ARE MULTIPLIED IN SCOTLAND.

                        (END OF 1531 TO 1534.)


The bishops of Scotland appeared to triumph. Hamilton was dead, Alesius
in exile, and not one evangelical voice was any longer heard in the
realm. They now turned their thoughts to the destruction of that proud
aristocracy which assumed that the functions of the state belonged to
the nobles and not to the priests. The estates of the earl of Crawford
had already been confiscated; the earls of Argyle and Bothwell and
several others had been imprisoned, and insults had been offered
to the earl of Murray, Lord Maxwell, Sir James Hamilton, and their
friends.[160] The archbishop of Glasgow, chancellor of Scotland, went
still further; he deprived the nobles of their ancient jurisdiction,
and set up in its place a _College of Justice_, composed exclusively of
ecclesiastics. The nobles thought now only of delivering Scotland from
the yoke of the clergy, and determined to invite the aid of Henry VIII.
Some of them were beginning even to feel interested in those humble
evangelical believers who were, like themselves, the object of the
priests’ hatred. This interest was one day to contribute to the triumph
of the Reformation. It was resolved that the earl of Bothwell should
open negotiations with Henry VIII., and this at the very time that that
prince was separating from Rome. This alliance might lead a long way.

[Sidenote: BOTHWELL AND NORTHUMBERLAND.]

The earl of Northumberland was then at Newcastle, charged by the King
of England to watch over affairs in the north. It was to him that
Bothwell addressed himself. Northumberland having referred to Henry
on the subject, it was agreed that the two earls should meet by night
at Dilston, a place almost equally distant from Newcastle and from
the Scottish frontier. At the mid-hour of the long night of December
21, 1531, Bothwell, accompanied by three of his friends, arrived at
the appointed place, where Northumberland was awaiting him.[161] They
entered immediately on the conference. The English lord was struck
with the intelligence, the acquirements, and the refined manners of
Bothwell. ‘Verily,’ said he to Henry VIII., ‘I have never in my life
met a lord so agreeable and so handsome.’ Bothwell, angered by the
pride of the priests, reported their conduct with respect to Angus,
Argyle, and Murray. ‘They kept me, too, confined in Edinburgh Castle
for six months,’ said he, ‘and but for the intervention of my friends
they would have put me to death. I know that such a fate is still
impending over me.’ Bothwell added, that if the King of England would
deliver the Scottish nobles from the evils which they had reason to
dread, he himself (Bothwell) was ready to join Henry VIII. with one
thousand gentlemen and six thousand men-at-arms. ‘We will crown him
in a little while,’ he added, ‘in the town of Edinburgh.’[162] The
enraged nobles were actually giving themselves up to strange fancies:
according to their view, the only remedy for the ills of their country
was the union of Scotland with England under the sceptre of Henry VIII.
Scotland would in that case have submitted to a reform at the king’s
hand; but she was reserved for other destinies, and her reform was to
proceed from the people, and to be effected by the Word of God.

The King of England was in no lack of motives for intervention in
Scotland. James V. had just concluded an alliance for a hundred years
with Charles V., the mortal enemy of Henry VIII., and had even asked
for the hand of the emperor’s sister, the ex-queen of Hungary. This
princess had rejected the match, and the emperor had proposed to James
his niece Dorothea, daughter of the King of Denmark.

Bothwell was able even to tell Northumberland, in this
night-conference, of matters graver still. A secret ambassador from
Charles V., said he, Peter von Rosenberg, has recently been at
Edinburgh and, in a long conversation which he had with the king in
his private apartments, has promised him that the emperor would put
him in a position, before Easter, to assume the title of _prince of
England_ and duke of York.[163] The Roman party, despairing of Henry
VIII., were willing to transmit the crown to his nephew, the King
of Scotland. Bothwell added that James, as he left the conference,
met the chancellor of the kingdom and several nobles, and made haste
to communicate to them the magnificent promise of Charles V. The
chancellor contented himself with saying, ‘Pray God I may live to see
the day on which the Pope will confirm it.’ The king replied, ‘Only let
the emperor act; he will labor strenuously for us.’ It was not James
V., but his grandson, who was to ascend the throne of the Tudors.

The project formed by the Scottish nobles of placing Scotland under the
sceptre of England was not so easy to carry out as they imagined. The
priests, who supposed that they had surmounted the dangers proceeding
from reform, undertook to remove in like manner those with which they
were threatened by the nobility. But they were mistaken when they
believed that the fire kindled by the Word of God was extinguished.
Flames shot up suddenly even in places where it was least of all
expected to see them.

[Sidenote: ALEXANDER SEATON.]

A monk of the Dominican order, the order so devoted to the Inquisition,
Alexander Seaton, confessor to the king--a man of lofty stature,
downright, ready-witted and bold even to audacity[164]--was held in
great esteem at the court. The state of the Church profoundly grieved
him, and therefore, having been appointed to preach in Lent (1532)
in the cathedral of St. Andrews, he resolved courageously to avow in
that Scottish Rome the heavenly doctrine which was making exiles and
martyrs. Preaching before a large congregation, he said--‘Jesus Christ
is the end of the law, and no one is able by his works to satisfy
divine justice. A living faith which lays hold of the mercy of God in
Christ, can alone obtain for the sinner the remission of sins. But
for how many years has God’s law, instead of being faithfully taught,
been darkened by the tradition of men?’ People were astonished at this
discourse: some wondered why he did not say a word about pilgrimages
and other meritorious works; but the priests themselves were afraid to
lay a complaint against him. ‘He is confessor to the king,’ they said,
‘and enjoys the favor both of prince and people.’[165]

In the absence of Seaton, after Lent, the archbishop and the clergy
took courage, condemned the doctrine which he had preached, and
appointed another Dominican to refute him. Seaton immediately returned
from Dundee, whither he had gone, had the cathedral bells rung, and,
ascending the pulpit, repeated with more energy and clearness still
what he had previously said. Then, recalling to mind all that a bishop
ought to be according to St. Paul, he asked, where are such bishops to
be found in Scotland? The primate, when informed of this discourse,
summoned him before him, and rebuked him for having asserted that the
bishops were only dumb dogs. Seaton replied that it was an unfounded
accusation. ‘Your answer pleases me well,’ exclaimed Beatoun. But the
witnesses confirmed their deposition. ‘These are liars,’ said again the
king’s confessor to the archbishop; ‘consider what ears these asses
have, who cannot decern Paul, Isaiah, Zechariah and Malachi, and friar
Alexander Seaton. In very deed, my lord, I said that Paul says it
behoves a bishop to be a teacher. Isaiah said that they that fed not
the flock are _dumb dogs_. And Zechariah says, they are idle pastors.
I of my own head affirmed nothing, but declared what the Spirit of God
before had pronounced.’

[Sidenote: SEATON’S FLIGHT.]

Beatoun did not hesitate: this bold preacher was evidently putting to
his mouth the trumpet of Hamilton and Alesius. The primate undertook to
obtain authority from the king to proceed against his confessor, and it
was an easier task than he imagined. Seaton, like John the Baptist, had
no dread of incurring the king’s displeasure, and had rebuked him for
his licentiousness. James had said nothing at the time, thinking that
the confessor was only doing his duty. But when he saw the archbishop
denouncing Seaton, ‘Ah,’ said this young prince, who was given up to
a loose life,[166] ‘I know more than you do of his audacity;’ and
from that time he showed great coolness towards Seaton. The latter
perceiving what fate awaited him, quitted the kingdom, and took refuge
at Berwick. It was about two years after the Lent sermon preached by
him in 1532.

He did not remain idle. He had a last duty to discharge to his master
the king. ‘The bishops of your kingdom,’ he wrote to him, ‘oppose our
teaching the Gospel of Christ. I offer to present myself before your
majesty, and to convince the priests of error.’[167] As the king made
him no answer, Seaton went to London, where he became chaplain to the
duke of Suffolk, brother-in-law of Henry VIII., and preached eloquently
to large audiences.

The King of England liked well enough to receive the friends of the
Gospel who were banished from Scotland. One priest, more enlightened
than the rest, Andrew Charteris, had called his colleagues children of
the devil; and he said aloud--‘If anyone observes their cunning and
their falsehood, and accuses them of impurity, they immediately accuse
him of heresy. If Christ himself were in Scotland, our priestly fathers
would heap on him more ignominy than the Jews themselves in old time
did.’ Henry desired to see the man, talked with him at great length,
and was much pleased with him. ‘Verily,’ said the king to him, ‘it is a
great pity that you were ever made a priest.’[168]

The clergy had now got rid of Hamilton, Seaton, and Alesius; but they
were nevertheless disquieted because they knew that the Holy Scriptures
were in Scotland. Notice was therefore given in every parish that ‘it
is forbidden to sell or to read the New Testament.’ All copies found in
the shops were ordered to be burnt.[169] Alesius, who was in Germany at
that time, was greatly afflicted, and resolved to speak.

[Sidenote: LETTER OF ALESIUS.]

‘I hear, sire,’ he wrote to the king, ‘that the bishops are
driving souls away from the oracles of Christ. Could the Turks do
anything worse? Would morality exist in independence of the Holy
Scriptures?[170] Would religion itself be anything else than a certain
discipline of public manners? That is the doctrine of Epicurus; but
what will become of the Church if the bishops propagate Epicurean
dogmas? God ordains that we should hear the Son, not as a doctor who
philosophizes on the theory of morals, but as a prophet who reveals
holy things unknown to the world. If the bishops promote the infliction
of the severest penalties on those who hear his word, the knowledge of
Jesus Christ will become extinct, and the people will take up pagan
opinions.[171]

‘Most serene king, resist these impious counsels! Those who are in the
fulness of age, infancy, and the generation to come, unite in imploring
you to do so. We are punished, we are put to death.... Eurybiades of
Sparta, commander-in-chief, having in the course of a debate raised his
staff against Themistocles while forbidding him to speak, the Athenian
replied, “Strike, but hear!” We shall say the same. We shall speak, for
the Gospel alone can strengthen souls amidst the infinite perils of the
present time.’

Neither king nor priests replied to the _Letter of Alesius_; but a
famous German, Cochlæus, the opponent of Luther, undertook to induce
James V. to pay no attention to that discourse. ‘Sire,’ he wrote
to him, ‘the calamities which the New Testaments disseminated by
Luther have brought down upon Germany are so great, that the bishops,
in turning their sheep away from that deadly pasture, have shown
themselves to be faithful shepherds. Incalculable sums have been
thrown away on the printing of a hundred thousand copies of that book.
Now, what advantage have its readers drawn from it, unless it be an
advantage to be cast into prison, to be banished, and made to suffer
other tribulations? A decree is not enough, sire; it is necessary to
act. The bishop of Treves has had the New Testaments thrown into the
Rhine, and with them the booksellers who sold them. This example has
frightened others, and happily so, for that book is the Gospel of
Satan, and not of Jesus Christ.’[172] This was the model proposed to
King James.

At the same time the Romish party was endeavoring to embroil Scotland
with England, and James was already engaging in several skirmishes. One
day, under the pretext of the hunt, he threw himself, with ‘a small
company’ of _three hundred persons_, on the estates the possession of
which was disputed by his uncle.[173] Shortly afterwards, four hundred
Scots invaded the Marches (frontier districts) at sunrise, and were
carrying off what they found there. Northumberland repulsed them, and
put to death the prisoners which fell into his hands. The Scots took
and burnt some English towns; the English invaded Scotland, and ravaged
its towns and country districts. The King of Scotland, intimidated,
applied to the pope and the King of France, and cried out for aid
with all his might. And then, in order to please at the same time the
priests, the pope, and Francis I., he took the advice of Cochlæus; with
the exception, that in Scotland the fire at the stake was substituted
for the waters of the Rhine.

[Sidenote: HENRY FORREST.]

A young monk, named Henry Forrest, who was in the Benedictine
monastery at Linlithgow, a man equally quick in his sympathies and
his antipathies, had been touched by Hamilton’s words, and uttered
everywhere aloud his regret for the death of that young kinsman of the
king, calling him a martyr. This monk was presently convicted of a
crime more enormous still: he was a reader of the New Testament. The
archbishop had him imprisoned at St. Andrews. One day a friar (sent by
the prelate) came to him for the purpose, he said, of administering
consolation; and offering to confess him, he succeeded by crafty
questions in leading the young Benedictine to tell him all he thought
about Hamilton’s doctrines. Forrest was immediately condemned to be
delivered over to the secular authorities to be put to death, and a
clerical assembly was called together for the purpose of degrading
him. The young friend of the Gospel had hardly passed the door where
the assembly was sitting, when, discovering the archbishop and the
priests drawn up in a circle before him, he became aware of what
awaited him, and cried out with a voice full of contempt, ‘Fie on
falsehood! fie on false friars, revealers of confession!’[174] When one
of the clerks came up to him to degrade him, the Benedictine, weary of
so much perfidy, exclaimed, ‘Take from me not only your own orders
but also your own baptism.’ He meant by that, says an historian, the
superstitious practices which Rome has added to the institutions of the
Lord. These words provoked the assembly still more. ‘We must burn him,’
said the primate, ‘in order to terrify the others.’ A simple-minded
and candid man who was by the side of Beatoun said to him in a tone of
irony, ‘My lord, if you burn him, take care that it be done in a cave,
for the smoke of Hamilton’s pile infected with heresy all who caught
the scent of it.’

This advice was not taken. To the northward of St. Andrews, in the
counties of Forfar and Angus, there were a good many people who loved
the New Testament which was come from Germany. There still exist in
that district a village named _Luthermoor_, _Luther’s torrent_, which
falls into the North Esk, _Luther’s Bridge_, and _Luther’s Mill_.[175]
Forrest’s persecutors determined to erect his funeral pile in such
a situation that the population of Forfar and Angus might see the
flames,[176] and thus learn the danger which threatened them if they
should fall into Protestantism. The pile was therefore placed to the
north of the abbey church of St. Andrews, and the fire was visible in
those districts of the north which were afterwards to bear Luther’s
name. Henry Forrest was Scotland’s second martyr.

[Sidenote: DAVID STRAITON.]

In the same neighborhood there soon after appeared one who was to be
the third to lay down his life for the Reformation in Scotland. A small
country seat, situated on the sea-coast near the mouth of the North
Esk, was inhabited by one of the Straitons of Lauriston, a family which
had held the estate of that name from the sixth century. The members
of this family were for the most part distinguished for their tall
stature, their bodily strength, and their energy of character. David, a
younger son (the eldest resided in Lauriston Castle), a man worthy of
his ancestors, was of rude manners and obstinate temper. He displayed
great contempt for books, especially for religious books, and found his
chief pleasure in launching his boat on the sea, giving the sails to
the wind, casting his nets, and struggling hand to hand with the winds
and the waves. He had soon to engage in struggles of another kind. The
prior of St. Andrews, Patrick Hepburn, afterwards bishop of Murray,
a very avaricious man, hearing that David had great success in his
fishing, demanded tithe of his fish. ‘Tell your master,’ said the proud
gentleman, ‘that if he wants to have it, he may come and take it on the
spot.’ From that time, every day as he drew up his nets, he exclaimed
to the fishermen, ‘Pay the prior of St. Andrews his tithe,’ and the men
would straightway throw every tenth fish into the sea.

When the prior of St. Andrews heard of this strange method of
satisfying his claim, he ordered the vicar of Eglesgreg to go to take
the fish. The vicar went; but as soon as the rough gentleman saw the
priest and his men set to work without ceremony on their part, he
cast the fish to him, and so sharply that some of them fell into the
sea.[177]

The prior then instituted proceedings against Straiton for the _crime
of heresy_. Never had a council applied that name to a man’s method of
paying his tithe. No matter; the word _heretic_ at that time inspired
such terror that the stout-hearted gentleman began to give way; his
pride was humbled, and, confessing his sins, he felt the need of a
forgiving God. He sought out therefore all those who could tell him of
the Gospel or could read it to him, for he could not read himself.

Not far from his abode was Dun Castle, whose lord, John Erskine,
provost of Montrose, a descendant of the earls of Mar, had attended
several universities in Scotland and abroad, and had been converted to
the evangelical faith.

‘God,’ says Knox, ‘had _miraculously_ enlightened him.’ His castle,
in which the words of prophets and apostles were heard, was ever open to
those who were athirst for truth; and thus the evangelical Christians
of the neighborhood had frequent meetings there. Erskine detected the
change which was taking place in the soul of his rude neighbor; he went
to see him, conversed with him, and exhorted him to change his life.
Straiton soon became a regular attendant at the meetings in the castle,
‘and he was,’ says Knox, ‘transformed as by a miracle.’[178]

His nephew, the young baron of Lauriston, possessed a New Testament.
Straiton frequently went to the castle to hear portions of the Gospels
read. One day the uncle and his nephew went out together, wandered
about in the neighborhood, and then retired into a lonely place to read
the Gospels. The young laird chose the tenth chapter of St. Matthew.
Straiton listened as attentively as if it were to himself that the Lord
addressed the discourse which is there reported. When they came to
this declaration of Jesus Christ, ‘Whosoever shall deny me before men,
him will I also deny before my Father which is in heaven,’ Straiton,
affected and startled, fell on his knees, stretched his hands upwards,
and turned for a long time a humble and earnest gaze towards heaven,
but without speaking the while; he appeared to be in an ecstasy.[179]
At last, no longer able to restrain the feelings which crowded on
him, he exclaimed--‘I have been sinful, O Lord, and thou wouldst be
only just wert thou to withhold thy grace from me! Nevertheless, for
the sake of thy mercy, suffer not the dread of pain or of death to
lead me ever to deny thee or thy truth.’[180] Thenceforward he set
himself to serve zealously the master whose mighty love he had felt.
The world appeared to him like a vast sea, full of movement, on which
men are ever rudely tossed until they have entered into the haven of
the Gospel. The fisherman became a fisher of men. He exhorted his
friends and acquaintances to seek God, and he replied to the priests
with firmness. On one occasion, when they urged him to do some pious
works which deliver from purgatory, he answered, ‘I know of no other
purgatory than Christ’s passion and the tribulations of this life.’
Straiton was carried off to Edinburgh, and cast into prison.

There was another Scotchman, Norman Gourlay, who after taking holy
orders had travelled on the continent, and had there been enlightened
by the word of the Gospel. Convinced that ‘marriage is honorable in
all,’ Gourlay had married on his return to Scotland; and when a priest
reminded him of the prohibition by Rome, ‘The pope,’ replied he, ‘is no
bishop, but an Antichrist, and he has no jurisdiction in Scotland.’

On August 26, 1534, these two servants of God were led into a hall of
Holyrood Abbey. The judges were seated, and with them the king, who,
appareled in red from head to foot, seemed to be there for the purpose
of assisting them. James V. pressed these two confirmed Christians
to abjure their doctrines. ‘Recant; burn your bill,’[181] he said to
them; but Straiton and Gourlay chose rather to be burnt themselves. The
king, affected and giving way, would fain have pardoned them; but the
priests declared that he had no authority to do so, since these people
were condemned by the Church. In the afternoon of August 27 a huge pile
was lit on the summit of Calton Hill, in order that the flames might
be visible to a great distance; and the fire devoured these two noble
Christians. If the Reform was afterwards so strong in Scotland it was
because the seed was holy.

Enough however was not done yet. All these heresies, it was thought,
proceed from Hamilton; his family must therefore be extirpated from the
Scottish soil. But Sir James, a good-natured man, an upright magistrate
and a lover of the Gospel, was for all that not in the humor to let
himself be burnt like his brother. So, having received one day an order
to appear before the tribunal, he addressed himself immediately to the
king, who had him privately told not to appear. Sir James therefore
quitted the kingdom; he was then condemned, excommunicated, banished,
and deprived of his estates, and he lived for nearly ten years in
London in the utmost distress.

[Sidenote: TRIAL OF CATHERINE HAMILTON.]

His sister Catherine was both a warm-hearted Scotchwoman and a decided
Huguenot. She would not make her escape, but appeared at Holyrood in
the presence of the ecclesiastical tribunal and of the king himself.
‘By what means,’ they said to her, ‘do you expect to be saved?’--‘By
faith in the Saviour,’ she replied, ‘and not by works.’ Then one
of the canonists, Master John Spence, said at great length--‘It is
necessary to distinguish between various kinds of works. In the first
place, there are works of _congruity_, secondly, there are works of
_condignity_. The works of the just are of this latter category, and
they merit life _ex condigno_. There are also _pious_ works; then works
of _supererogation_;’ and he explained in scholastic terms what all
these expressions meant. These strange words sounded in Catherine’s
ears like the noise of a false-bass (_faux-bourdon_). Wearied with this
theological babbling, she got excited, and exclaimed--‘Works here,
works there.... What signify all the works?... There is one thing alone
which I know with certainty, and that is that no work can save me,
except the work of Christ my Saviour.’ The doctor sat amazed and made
no answer, while the king strove in vain to hide a fit of laughter. He
was anxious to save Catherine, and made a sign for her to come to him;
he then entreated her to declare to the tribunal that she respected the
Church. Catherine, who had never had a thought of setting herself in
rebellion against the higher powers, gave the king leave to say what he
wished, and withdrew first into England, then to France. She probably
entered the family of her husband,[182] who, during his lifetime, was a
French officer in the suite of the duke of Albany.

But these punishments and banishments did not put an end to the storm.
Several other evangelical Christians were also obliged at that time
to leave Scotland. Gawin Logie, a canon of St. Andrews, and principal
regent of St. Leonard’s College, at which Patrick Hamilton had
exercised so powerful an influence, had diffused scriptural principles
among the students to such an extent that people were accustomed to
say, when they would make you understand that anyone was an evangelical
Christian, ‘He has drunk at the well of St. Leonard’s.’ Logie quitted
Scotland in 1534. Johnston, an Edinburgh advocate, Fife, a friend of
Alesius, M’Alpine, and several others had to go into exile at the same
time. The last-named, known on the continent by the name of Maccabæus,
won the favor of the King of Denmark, and became a professor at the
university of Copenhagen.




                             CHAPTER VIII.

   THE KING OF SCOTLAND BREAKS WITH ENGLAND, AND ALLIES HIMSELF WITH
                        FRANCE AND THE GUISES.

                             (1534-1539.)


[Sidenote: BREAK WITH ENGLAND.]

Notwithstanding the literary and liberal pretensions of Francis I.,
the ultramontane spirit seemed secure of a triumph in France. There
doubtless existed freer and holier aspirations, but certain of the
bishops were more popish than the pope, and kings found it convenient
to show themselves very indulgent to the licentiousness of the clergy,
provided that they in return would lend a hand in support of their
despotism. The priests of Scotland therefore redoubled their efforts to
make a breach between James and his uncle of England, and to ally him
with the eldest daughter of the papacy.

Henry VIII., who received into his realm many of the exiles who were
driven from their own country, was troubled at seeing his nephew throw
himself into the arms of the Roman pontiff. It was for the interest
of England that Scotland should not take a course opposed to her own:
the whole of Great Britain ought to cast off the authority of the pope
at the same time. The Tudor, impatient to reach this end, conceived
the project of giving his daughter Mary in marriage to the King of
Scotland; and in order to bring about by degrees a reconciliation,
he determined to send Lord William Howard to Scotland. To this
intent he had instructions drawn up in full detail to the effect
following:[183]--First after your arrival at the court of the king my
nephew, you will offer on our part the most friendly greetings, you
will thank him for his noble present of falcons, and you will assure
him that the ties of blood which unite us lead me to rejoice at every
piece of good fortune that befalls him. You will then practise with
the lord treasurer by some means to get you the measure of the king’s
person, and you will cause to be made for him the richest and most
elegant garments possible, by the tailor whom you will have at hand for
that intent. Then you will tell him that I am greatly desirous to have
conference with him.

Henry VIII., full of hatred for the papacy, and anxious to see other
kingdoms strengthen his position by following his example, urged
his nearest neighbors to found, as he had done, national churches
acknowledging no other head than the king. He had seen his endeavors
fail in France, and was all the more desirous of succeeding in
Scotland. As uncle to the king, the task seemed easy to him. To
accomplish it he was resolved to use all means, and among others he
sought to gain over the king by fine clothes made after the London
fashion. He sent to him at the same time some books against the usurped
authority of the pope.

[Sidenote: DR. BARLOW’S EMBASSY]

In October, Dr. Barlow, prior of Bisham, one of the king’s councillors,
‘a man sufficiently instructed,’ wrote Henry to James, ‘in the
specialities of certain great and weighty causes,’[184] arrived in
Scotland, and the queen-dowager Margaret procured him a private
conversation with her son.[185] The pope’s partisans at once took the
alarm, and conjured James not to read the books which Henry VIII.
had sent to him; they depicted the unheard-of dangers to which he
would expose his person, his crown, and his kingdom by following
his uncle’s example. They had the best of it, and James commanded a
reply to be written to Cromwell, that assuredly no means would be
neglected of strengthening the bonds of friendship between the two
sovereigns; but that, in Scotland, there could be no agreement with
the King of England ‘_in the opinions concerning the authority of the
pope and kirkmen_.’[186] ‘Here be,’ wrote Barlow to Cromwell, ‘plenty
of priests, sundry sorts of religions, multitudes of monks, flocking
companies of friars, yet among them all so many is there not a few, no
not one, that sincerely preacheth Christ.’

‘It shall be no more dyspleasant for me to depart,’ he wrote on May 23,
1536, ‘than it was for Lot to pass out of Sodom.’[187]

Henry was not discouraged, and he sent Lord William Howard a second
time, in February, 1535. At a solemn session which was held at Holyrood
with great pomp, Howard delivered to James V., at one and the same
time, the order of the Garter, which Charles V., Francis I., and
King Ferdinand had already received, and a declaration touching the
ecclesiastical supremacy. The king accepted the order with respect,
and handed over the declaration to his bishops to do what they wished
with it.[188] In vain had Henry given James a glimpse of the prospect
of sitting on the throne of England by marrying his daughter Mary;
the priests, and especially Beatoun, got the proposals rejected, from
which they anticipated nothing but evil. They represented to him the
risk which he would run if he went to London and put his head at the
disposal of so treacherous and cruel a prince; and what admiration
posterity would cherish for him, if at the time when all Europe was
threatening the Church, he should remain true to the faith of his
forefathers.

Among the Scottish people there were earnest aspirations after the
Gospel: but in that country, as in France, the priesthood and the
government forcibly repressed them. The more the state separated itself
from the pope in the south of Britain, the more it clung to him in
the north. The king, now become the direct instrument of the clergy,
required the parliament to check the progress which the Bible seemed to
be making in Scotland; and on June 8 this body, adding severity to the
former laws, enacted that whosoever possessed a New Testament should
deliver it to his bishop under pain of confiscation and imprisonment,
and that all _discussion_ about _religious opinions_ was prohibited.
It gave permission, however, to _clerks of the schools to read that
book, in order that they might the more efficiently contend against
its adherents_. Many priests, monks, and students therefore read the
New Testament; but this reading produced a quite contrary effect, for
it led them to receive and to defend the Gospel. This could not but
irritate the king and his priests, and make them feel still more the
necessity of an alliance with some ultramontane power. The conversion
of a Churchman who, through his family, was connected with the court,
especially attracted their attention.

[Sidenote: THOMAS FORREST.]

In a small island in the Firth of Forth, not far from Edinburgh,
stood the ancient abbey of St. Colme, occupied by Augustinian canons.
Distinguished among them was the son of the master of the stables
to King James IV. His name was Thomas Forrest, and he is not to be
confounded with the Benedictine, Henry Forrest, of whom we have already
spoken. A quarrel had broken out between the abbot and the canons;
the latter, in order to support their claims, seized the deeds of
foundation of the monastery. The abbot came in, scolded them sharply,
recovered the volume, and gave them in its place an old folio of St.
Augustine. The canons scornfully turned their backs on the book and
went back to their cells.

Forrest, left alone, looked at the volume. A work of the great
Augustine interested him. He took it into his cell, read it, and
ere long was able to say, with the bishop of Hippo--‘That which the
dispensation of works commands, is accomplished by the dispensation of
grace. O happy and blessed book!’ he would often say, ‘God has made
use of thee to enlighten my soul.’[189] St. Augustine led Forrest to
the Gospel, and he was not long in making known to his brethren the
treasure which he had found in the writings of this Father and in the
New Testament. Aged men stopped their ears. ‘Alas,’ said the son of the
king’s master-stabler, ‘the _old_ bottles will not receive the _new_
wine.’[190] The old canons complained to the abbot, and the abbot said
to Forrest, ‘Look after your own salvation, but talk as other men do.’

‘Before I will recant,’ he replied, laying his hand on his breast,
‘this body shall be burnt and the wind shall scatter its ashes.’ The
abbot, anxious to be rid of this innovator, gave him the parish of
Dollar.

Forrest was one of those men who receive the grace which is offered
them not only lovingly but with a vehement impetuosity. While many lay
sleeping he was vigorously going forward to take the kingdom of God.
There were in him those marvellous impulses, that grand earnestness,
which the Gospel denotes in the saying, ‘the violent take it by force.’
He used to study from six in the morning till midday: he learnt every
day three chapters of the Bible: in the afternoon visited families,
instructed his parishioners, and endeavored to bring souls to God. When
he returned in the evening to his vicarage, wearied with his labors, he
used to say to his servant, ‘Come, Andrew,’ and making him sit down
beside him, piously recited the three chapters of the Word of God which
he had learnt in the morning, hoping thus to fix them in his own memory
and to impress them on the soul of his servant.[191] A party of monks
having invaded his parish to sell indulgences there, Forrest went into
the pulpit and said, like Luther, ‘You cannot receive pardon for your
sins either from the pope or from any created being in the world, but
only by the blood of Jesus Christ.’

[Sidenote: FORREST AND THE BISHOP.]

His enemies hastened to denounce him to the bishop of Dunkeld, calling
upon him to put a stop to conduct so strange. ‘My joy dean Thomas,’
said the bishop to him, ‘I am told that you preach every Sunday. That
is too much. Take my advice, and don’t preach unless you find any
good gospel or any good epistle that setteth forth the liberty of
Holy Church.’--‘My lord,’ replied Forrest, ‘I would wish that your
lordship preach also every Sunday.’ ‘Nay, nay, dean Thomas,’ said
the bishop, alarmed, ‘let that be.’--‘Whereas your lordship biddeth
me preach,’ continued Forrest, ‘when I find any _good_ epistle, or a
_good_ gospel, truly, my lord, I have read the New Testament and the
Old, all the gospels, all the epistles, and among them all I could
never find an evil epistle or an evil gospel; but if your lordship
will shew me the good and the evil ones, I will preach the former and
pass over the latter.’ The bishop, more and more affrighted, exclaimed
with all his might,[192] ‘Thank God, I never knew what the Old and New
Testament was, and I will to know nothing but my _portuese_[193] and my
_pontifical_!’

For the moment Forrest escaped death. The bishop’s saying got abroad
in Scotland, and people used for a long time to say to any ignorant
person, ‘_Ye are like the bishop of Dunkeldene that knew neither new
nor old law_.’[194]

The discontent of the people with the clergy went on increasing, and
at a provincial council which met at Edinburgh in March, 1536, Sir
James Hamilton, in the king’s name, demanded various reforms. The men
of the kirk were indignant. ‘Never had they been so ill content,’ said
Angus.[195]

The monks, in alarm, began to attack the Reformation from their pulpits.

Bishop Barlow, the English envoy, thought the moment a favorable one
for reform in Scotland. ‘If I may obtain the king’s license,’ he wrote
to Cromwell, then first secretary of state to Henry VIII., ‘otherwise
shall I not be suffered to preach, I will not spare for no bodily
peril, boldly to publish the truth of God’s Word among them. Whereat
though the clergy shall repine, yet many of the lay people will gladly
give hearing. And until the Word of God be planted among them, I
suppose their feigned promises shall be finally found frustrate without
any faithful effect.’[196]

It seemed as if the hopes of the Anglican bishop were beginning to be
realized. It was rumored that the King of Scotland, offended at the
reception which his demands had met in the council, was going to have
a conference with his uncle. The prelates thought that if that project
were carried out they were undone. ‘Pray do not allow,’ they said to
the king, ‘a single word to be spoken by the King of England to induce
you to adopt his new constitutions of the Scripture.’[197] James was
willing and unwilling: but he yielded, and the interview with the
terrible Tudor was given up. But the bishops were not yet freed from
their alarm; they dreaded the influence of the English ambassadors, and
that of the queen-mother, and they feared that they might not be strong
enough another time. In order to confirm the prince in his resolution,
they conceived the plan of getting him to request a brief from the pope
to _forbid_ his holding intercourse with Henry VIII. Thompson, the
apostolic prothonotary, was secretly charged with this strange mission,
and the priests thought it a capital stroke to ask the King of England
to grant this agent a passport, taking good care to conceal from him
the object of the mission. Henry, not at all suspicious, agreed to
their request, and these cunning clerks could laugh together at their
paltry trick. But the queen-mother, when she became acquainted with
all these intrigues, sharply rebuked her son. Sensitive and violent,
as weak men frequently are, James forgot all respect, and accused his
mother of accepting gifts from the king her brother to betray the
king her son. Margaret indignantly declared that she would return to
London,[198] and the two English envoys hastened their departure from
Scotland. The Scottish clergy had been very much alarmed at the project
formed by Henry VIII. of giving his daughter Mary to his nephew; but
the daughter of Catherine of Aragon would not have been wanting in
submissiveness to the pope. The clerical party, having succeeded in
stirring up quarrels in the royal family, between the mother and the
son and between the uncle and the nephew, and anxious to make the
proposed union forever impossible, hinted to the young prince that the
eldest daughter of the King of France, the sister-in-law of Catherine
de’ Medici, would be for him a far more glorious and advantageous
alliance. This scheme pleased James, and when the rumor ran that the
emperor was on the point of invading France, the King of Scotland,
in order to win the favor of the father of the bride whom he desired,
offered to him the aid of his army.[199] Then he set sail, September
1, with six vessels, accompanied by a suite of five hundred persons,
all of noble or gentle birth. In ten days he reached Dieppe,[200] and
without consulting the opinion of his uncle, he asked for and obtained
the hand of Madame Madeleine, who had been very tenderly brought up
by her aunt, Margaret of Valois.[201] The Scottish priests were in
high glee, because in their view this alliance with France tended to
strengthen the papacy in Scotland; but their joy was premature. The
kings of France were beginning to assume an air of superiority towards
Scotland, which was offensive to a nation proud though small. It was
far worse afterwards, when Henry II., king of France, marrying his son
to Mary Stuart, required that princess to sign contracts which were
humiliating to ancient Caledonia.

[Sidenote: MADELEINE DE VALOIS.]

James had found in Madeleine an accomplished princess. Her health was
frail, but her heart was virtuous and her soul was no stranger to
the piety of her aunt. How great a gain for the Reformation if there
should be seated on the throne of Scotland a queen who was a lover
of the Word of God! James embarked with his young wife on a fleet of
seventeen sail. On reaching Leith, the amiable queen, who was of noble
bearing though of unhealthy aspect, set foot on land, knelt down on
the shore, and taking up a handful of the sand of Scotland, kissed it
with deep feeling, and implored God’s blessing on her beloved husband
and on her new country. Madeleine was received at Edinburgh with great
enthusiasm by the people and the nobles; but the churchmen, better
informed than they were at first, were disquieted, and were afraid that
this princess would diffuse around her the evangelical opinions of the
sister of Francis I. This happiness was not in store for Scotland.
The flower transplanted into that rough climate withered and fell.
On July 2 [1537] the queen breathed her last. All who had known her,
except the priests, deeply regretted her. Buchanan, struck with such
glory and such mourning, composed an epitaph on her in Latin verse,
to the following effect:--‘I was wife of a king, daughter of a king,
niece of a king, and, according to my wish and my hope, I was to become
mother of a king. But cruel death, unwilling that I should stand on the
highest pinnacle of honor that a mortal creature can attain to, has
laid me in this tomb before that bright day dawned.’[202]

[Sidenote: SECOND MARRIAGE OF JAMES V.]

The prelates began to bestir themselves immediately to negotiate
another French marriage, but one which should be at the same time what
the first had not been,--a Romish marriage. They did not intend to be
taken in a second time. The ardent David Beatoun, the primate’s nephew,
who had accompanied the king to Paris, returned to France immediately
after the death of the young queen, in order to seek for James V. a new
alliance agreeable to the priests. David, who was very well liked at
the court of St. Germain, was made bishop of Mirepoix, by Francis I.,
and through his intervention was afterwards created cardinal. His whole
life was to be consecrated to a conflict with the Gospel in Scotland.
Now for this end he needed a fanatical queen, and it was not difficult
to find one.

There was at that time at the court of France a family which was
beginning to be known for its zeal for the papacy. Claude de
Lorraine, Duke of Guise, who had married Antoinette de Bourbon, had
distinguished himself on several occasions, and particularly at the
battle of Marignano. Surrounded by six sons and four daughters, he
founded a powerful house, which at a later period was near taking
the throne from the Valois and the Bourbons. Hence, the last word of
Francis I. to his son was this, ‘Beware of the Guises!’ It appears
that James, during his visit to France, had seen and observed the
eldest of the duke’s children, Mary, a young woman of three-and-twenty,
widow of Louis of Orléans.[203] To her Beatoun addressed himself. The
alliance was promptly concluded. The Scottish clergy triumphed; but the
evangelical Christians saw with sorrow ‘this egg taken from the bloody
nest of the Guises’[204] brought into their native land.

The young queen, having arrived at St. Andrews on June 16, 1538, strove
to gain the affection of the king and of her mother-in-law. She failed
to win the favor of the people; but the priests were enamored of her,
and feeling themselves thenceforth sure of the victory, they began to
set the authority of the pope higher than ever in their discourses.[205]

The pope then, through cardinal Pole, proposed an alliance between
the emperor and the kings of France and Scotland for the invasion of
England; and at the same time he withdrew from Henry VIII. and his
successors the title of _Defender of the Faith_, and transferred it to
the crown of Scotland.

James V., the slave at once of his wife and his bishops, seemed to be
positively chained to the chariot of the Roman pontiff.




                              CHAPTER IX.

     DAVID BEATOUN ESTABLISHES HIS INFLUENCE: PERSECUTION REVIVES.

                                (1539.)


[Sidenote: DAVID BEATOUN.]

A man with whom we have already made acquaintance was now for
eight years to play a prominent part in Scotland, and to contend
energetically against the Reformation. This was David Beatoun, one
of the members of the Fifeshire family, and nephew of archbishop
James. He belonged to the class of minds which take their place
with enthusiasm under an absolute government, and become its most
formidable instruments. Thoroughly at home and highly esteemed at the
court of France, it was he who had conducted the negotiations for the
king’s marriage, first with Madeleine of Valois, afterwards with Mary
of Lorraine. But his intent was to devote his life to a union more
sublime--that of Scotland and the papacy. Animated with hearty sympathy
for Gregory VII., Boniface VIII., and Innocent III., he believed, as
they did, that Rome, formerly mistress of the pagan world, should now
be mistress of the Christian world. In his eyes all authority emanated
from her, and he was resolved to consecrate to her his life, his
energies, and everything that he possessed. As he meant to fight with
carnal weapons, he must attain some dignity which would invest him with
authority to make use of them. He speedily attained his end. Paul III.,
alarmed at seeing the separation of England from Rome, and fearing lest
Scotland, as she had a nephew of Henry VIII. for her king, should
follow her example, was anxious to have in that country one man who
would be absolutely devoted to him. David Beatoun offered himself.
The pope created him cardinal in December 1538, and thenceforth the
_red_, a color thoroughly congenial with him, became his own, and as
it were his symbol. Not that he was by any means a religious fanatic;
he was versed neither in theology nor in moral philosophy. He was a
hierarchical fanatic. Two points above all were offensive to him in
evangelical Christians: one that they were not submissive to the pope;
the other, that they censured immorality in the clergy, for his own
licentiousness drew on himself similar rebukes. He aimed at being in
Scotland a kind of Wolsey, only with more violence and bloodshed. The
one thing of moment in his eyes was that everything in church and state
should bend under a twofold despotism. Endowed with large intelligence,
consummate ability, and indomitable energy, he had all the qualities
needed to insure success in the aim on which his mind was perpetually
bent without ever being diverted from it. Passionately eager for his
projects, he was insensible to the ills which must result from them.
One matter alone preoccupied him: the destruction of all liberty. The
papacy divined his character, and created him cardinal.

For the suppression of evangelical Christianity, which upheld the
supreme authority of the Divine Word in the presence of the tiara and
its oracles, Beatoun needed the royal support. His first step therefore
must be to make himself master of the king. This was not difficult. The
nobility had rights which they meant to make respected, and which the
crown wished to take away. The king and the cardinal were naturally
impelled to unite against the Gospellers and the nobles. In addition,
James V., a prince of good natural endowments both of body and of
mind, and of a frank and amiable disposition, was strongly inclined
to sensual pleasures. In order to keep him out of the way of state
affairs, the courtiers and the regent had fostered in him the taste for
intrigues and adventures of gallantry, a vice which he never got rid of
even after his marriage.[206] Dissolute as a man, prodigal as a king,
and superstitious as a Catholic, he could not but easily fall under the
sway of superior minds,[207] especially if they promised him money, and
that Beatoun could do.

Henry VIII., who, like his nephew, was habitually in want of money, had
sought it in the treasures of the monasteries and other ecclesiastical
institutions. The King of Scotland might be tempted to follow that
example. Beatoun, and the other ecclesiastical dignitaries who were
about the prince, discovered a certain means of preventing it. Instead
of taking the money of the clergy, they said, let the king take that of
the Gospellers; let the property of those who may be condemned to death
for their faith, and even that of those who, after having embraced
the Reform, may abjure it, be confiscated for his majesty’s benefit.
This scheme was all the more seductive in that, while it secured their
wealth to the clergy, it at the same time deprived the friends of the
Reformation of theirs. This was killing two birds with one stone. The
plan gives a special character to the Scottish persecutions. The cruel
Gardiner said in England, that when people went stag-hunting they
must fire at the leader of the herd, and that the same course must be
pursued in hunting the Gospellers. In Scotland it was agreed not to
harass those poor Christians who had nothing to leave at their death.
Why seize these lean sheep? The knife must be laid on the big fat
ones--on those which have a rich fleece. War on the rich! This was
the cry raised by the party of the persecutors. For about four years
the sword had not been drawn from its scabbard, and the horror excited
by the persecution of 1534 had, as it seemed, subsided. The Gospel
had reaped advantage from the lull: the number of those who confessed
Christ as their only Saviour had increased, and thus the irritation of
the priests was soon aroused again.

[Sidenote: WAR ON THE RICH.]

Martin Balkerley, a wealthy citizen of Edinburgh, was confined in the
castle at the time when David Beatoun was going to be made cardinal at
Rome. The latter had already acquired great influence. As coadjutor
to his uncle, the archbishop of St. Andrews, who was then advanced in
years and in ill health, and whom he was to succeed, the administration
of all ecclesiastical affairs was even then in his hands.[208]
Balkerley, who was imprisoned for reading the prohibited books,
complained as follows: ‘I have done nothing,’ said he, ‘but refuse to
give up my book of matins to the officer.’ The king sent him back to
Beatoun, who then referred the case to the privy council. The lords
composing the council promised the accused his liberty on condition of
his giving a ransom of one thousand pounds sterling, an enormous sum
according to the value of money at that period. This ransom was paid on
February 27, 1539, but Balkerley remained in prison. It was not enough.
Beatoun, who had then been cardinal for a month or two, demanded an
additional ransom of double the amount. Three rich Scotchmen offered
themselves as bail on March 7, pledging themselves that the prisoner
would do the king’s will. Five days later he was set at liberty. Thus
the sum of three thousand pounds, paid down, was at length thought
sufficient to expiate the crime of reading the New Testament.

Beatoun did not think it necessary thenceforward to have recourse to
the privy council. His arrogance had increased, and he assumed a
haughty air. As the consuls of ancient Rome had their lictors, who
bore the _fasces_ before them as the symbol of their power, so the
cardinal, whithersoever he went, had the cross carried before him; and
this symbol of the love of God, which signifies _pardon_, signified,
when it preceded Beatoun, _condemnation_, and spread terror everywhere.
The cardinal claimed to be master of souls, and to dispose of the
lives of men. The money which he had so shamefully acquired served
only to stimulate his desire to get more by the same means. Several
eminent and wealthy citizens--Walter Stewart, son of Lord Ochiltree,
Robert Forester, brother of the laird of Arngibbon, David Graham, John
Steward, son of Lord Methven, with others belonging to the _élite_ of
Scotland--were thrown into prison. In the castles, and in the towns of
Stirling, Edinburgh, Perth, and Dundee, numerous families were left
desolate.[209]

[Sidenote: MISSION OF THE DUKE OF NORFOLK.]

Henry VIII. saw in these acts of the government of his nephew the
signal of an impending attack, and he sent one of the greatest lords
of his court, the duke of Norfolk, to Berwick and to Carlisle to
watch Scotland. Norfolk attentively investigated the condition of
that country, and perceived there two opposite currents. ‘The clergy
of Scotland,’ he wrote to London, ‘be in such fear that their king
should do there as the king’s highness hath done in this realm, that
they do their best to bring their master to the war; and by many ways
I am advertised that a great part of the temporalty there would their
king should follow our example, which I pray God give him grace to
come unto.’[210] Presently Norfolk learnt that James V. was making his
cannon ready; that a proclamation was published at Edinburgh and in all
parts of Scotland, enjoining every man between the ages of sixteen and
sixty to be in readiness to set out; and that the fanatic cardinal was
gone to the continent to make sure of the aid which Scotland might hope
for, both from the king of France and from the pope. Norfolk ere long
saw with his own eyes the sad effects of the intrigues of the clergy.
Not a day passed but some gentlemen and priests, who were compelled to
flee the country because they had had the audacity to read the Holy
Scriptures in English, came to him to seek a refuge. ‘Ah,’ they to said
him, ‘if we should be captured we should be put to execution.’[211]
In the midst of these persecutions and preparations for war, James,
initiated in the art of Roman policy, feigned the most pacific
sentiments. ‘You may be sure,’ he said to one of the English agents,
‘that I shall never break with the king, my uncle.’ But Norfolk was not
deceived: he felt the greatest distrust of the influence of Mary of
Guise. ‘The young queen,’ he wrote to Cromwell, ‘is all papist.’[212]
That ill-starred marriage linked in his eyes the family and the realm
of the Stuarts with France and the papacy.

Norfolk was not wrong. The cardinal, having won over the king by
flattery and by the heavy fines extorted from the evangelical
Christians, was eager to take advantage of the circumstance for the
destruction of the Reform and the satisfaction of some grudges of
long standing. A monk named Killon, possessing some poetic talent,
had composed, after the fashion of the age, a tragedy on the death of
Christ. On the morning of Good Friday, probably in 1536, a numerous
audience had assembled at Stirling to hear it. The king himself and
the court were present. The piece presented a lively picture of the
spirit and the conduct of the Romish clergy. The action was animated,
the characters well marked, and the words vigorous and sometimes rude.
Fanatical priests and hard-hearted Pharisees instigated the people to
demand the death of Jesus, and procured from Pilate his condemnation.
The design of this work was so marked that the simplest folk said to
one another, ‘It is just the same with us: the bishops and the monks
get those persecuted who love Jesus Christ.’[213] The clergy abstained
for the moment from molesting Killon, but they took note of his daring
drama.

Another Gospeller had left very unpleasant memories in Beatoun’s mind.
This was the good dean Forrest, who had boldly said that he had never
found either a bad epistle or a bad gospel. The cardinal was only
waiting for an opportunity to arrest him, Killon, and others. He had
not long to wait. When the vicar of Tullybody, near Stirling, was
married, Forrest and Killon had attended the ceremony, as well as a
monk named Beverage, Sir Duncan Sympson, a priest, a gentleman named
Robin Forrester, and three or four other people of Stirling.[214]
At the marriage feast, at the beginning of Lent, they had eaten
flesh, according to that word of St. Paul, ‘Whatsoever is sold in
the shambles, that eat.’ On March 1, 1539, or according to some
authorities, on the last day of February,[215] they were all seized and
taken before the cardinal and the bishops of Glasgow and Dunkeld, who
indulged in practices far more criminal than the eating of what God
made for that purpose.

[Sidenote: PROSECUTION OF FORREST AND KILLON.]

The official accuser, John Lauder, one of Beatoun’s creatures,
addressing Forrest rudely, said to him--‘False heretic! thou sayest it
is not lawful to kirkmen to take their teinds [tithes] and offerings
and corpse presents.’ And the dean Forrest replied, ‘Brother, I said
not so: but I said it was not lawful to kirkmen to spend the patrimony
of the kirk as they do, as on riotous feasting and on fair women, and
at playing at cards and dice: and neither the kirk well maintained
nor the people instructed in God’s Word, nor the sacraments duly
administered to them as Christ commanded.’

_Accuser_: ‘Dare thou deny that which is openly known in the country?
that thou gave again to thy parishioners _the cow_ and the _upmost
cloths_, saying you had no right to them? ’

_Dean_: ‘I gave them again to them that had more mister [need] than I’

_Accuser_: ‘Thou false heretic! thou learned all thy parishioners to
say the Paternoster, the creed, and the Ten Commandments _in English_.’

_Dean_: ‘Brother, my people are so rude and ignorant they understand
no Latin, so that my conscience provoked me to learn them the words
of their salvation in English, and the Ten Commandments which are the
law of God, whereby they might observe the same. I teached the belief,
whereby they might know their faith in God and Jesus Christ his Son,
and of his death and resurrection. Moreover I teached them and learned
them the Lord’s own prayer in the mother-tongue, to the effect that
they might know how they should pray.’

_Accuser_: ‘Why did you that? By our acts and ordinances of our holy
father the pope?’

_Dean_: ‘I follow the acts of our master and Saviour Jesus Christ, and
of the apostle Paul, who saith that he had rather speak five words to
the understanding and edifying of his people than ten thousand in a
strange tongue which they understand not.’

_Accuser_: ‘Where finds thou that?’

_Dean_: ‘In my book here, in my sleeve.’

At these words the accuser, rushing at a bound on the dean, snatched
from his hands the New Testament, and holding it up, said with a loud
voice, ‘Behold, sirs, he has the book of heresy in his sleeve that
makes all the din and play in our kirk.’

_Dean_: ‘Brother, ye could say better if ye pleased, nor to call the
book of the Evangel of Jesus Christ the book of heresy.’

‘It is enough to burn thee for,’ said the accuser, coolly.[216]

Five of these pious men were immediately condemned to death and were
taken the same day to the castle hill, where the piles were ready; and
the king, following the example of Francis I., was present with his
court at this cruel execution.[217] Those who went first to the stake
piously and wonderfully consoled those who were to follow them. ‘At
the beginning of 1539,’ says Buchanan, ‘many suspected of Lutheranism
were arrested; five were burnt at the end of February, nine recanted,
and others were sentenced to banishment.’[218] The same day orders
were issued to confiscate the property of those who had been declared
heretics.[219] The king, the cardinals, and their subordinates took
their reward out of the penalties.

[Sidenote: GEORGE BUCHANAN.]

The illustrious Buchanan was himself in prison at that time. He was
thirty-two years of age, and after a residence at the university of
Paris, he had returned to Scotland and had been named preceptor to
the earl of Murray, a natural son of James V. He was a poet as well
as a historian, and his genius grew and developed itself under the
influence of the classical poetry which charmed his leisure hours.
There was something sharp and biting in his temperament, peculiarly
apt for satire; and he had not spared the clergy in his _Somnium_, his
_Palinode_, and above all in his satire against the _Franciscans_. It
was for this last poem he was imprisoned. The companies of monks had
keenly resented his sarcasm, and there was not a man in all Scotland
whose death was more eagerly desired by the Romish party. It was said
that the cardinal offered the king a considerable sum of money in
order to compass it. However that may be, Buchanan was at that time
a prisoner and was carefully watched in the prison of St. Andrews,
some of the guards even spending the night in his room. The young man,
already an illustrious writer, knew that they were seeking his life;
the death of five martyrs showed him clearly enough the fate which
awaited himself. One night he perceived that his keepers had fallen
asleep.[220] He went on tiptoe towards the window, and climbing up
the walls, succeeded, although with difficulty, in getting out. He
then passed on and surmounted other obstacles as great;[221] and thus
by the aid of God, and stimulated by the desire of saving his life,
‘he escaped the rage of those that sought his blood.’[222] He betook
himself to France, taught for several years in the Collège de Guienne
at Bordeaux, and afterwards in a college at Paris. Henry Stephens,
when he published at Paris the first edition of Buchanan’s Paraphrase
of the Psalms, calls him on the title-page of the book, ‘Poetarum
nostri sæculi facile princeps.’ His escape took place, as nearly as we
can learn, in March 1539. Many Gospellers, as we have said, followed
the example of Buchanan that same month. As for himself, he appears
at that period of his life to have been nothing more than one of the
numerous poets and prose-writers who were then attacking the vices and
the follies of the Romish clergy. But while attacking superstition,
Buchanan did not fall as many did into infidelity: he adhered heartily
at a later period to the evangelical reform, and Knox bears noble
witness to him.[223]

Beatoun, while sacrificing many victims, had lit a fire on elevated
ground, ‘to the effect that the rest of the bischoppes myght schaw
thame selfis no less fervent to suppress the light of God.’[224] That
signal was not made in vain. In the town of Ayr, in the midst of
the rich plains of that fertile county, was a young gentleman named
Kennedy, about eighteen years of age, who had received a liberal
education, and had tasted of the Gospel, without however attaining a
well-grounded faith; a state sufficiently accounted for by his years.
Gifted with some poetic faculty he had not spared the ignorance of the
priests. Kennedy was seized and cast into prison.

In the same diocese, that of Glasgow, there lived in a convent of the
Cordeliers one of those enlightened and pious monks who shone like
stars in the deep night of the age. His name was Jerome Russel; his
character was good, his wit ready, and his mind enriched with literary
acquirements. Wharton, writing to Lord Cromwell in November 1538,
speaks of a friar John, a well-informed man who was imprisoned at
Dumfries at the instance of the bishops, and who had been loaded with
chains because he professed respecting the law of God the same opinions
which were held in England.[225] It is not to be doubted that he speaks
of Russel. Dumfries is not far from Ayr.

The archbishop of Glasgow, Gawin Dunbar, was not of so persecuting a
spirit as Beatoun, and as lord chancellor he was invested with the
highest authority in the state. It was then the summer of 1539, and as
Beatoun, although named cardinal, had not yet received the pontifical
act which conferred on him that dignity, he could not have dared to
appear in the diocese of Glasgow with his cross borne before him. But
it was not enough for him to know that the learned Russel and the young
Kennedy were in prison, he must get them burnt. Consequently he sent to
Glasgow his favorite agent Lauder, who could affect insinuating manners
and put on exaggerated pretensions to compass his ends. The clever
notary Andrew Oliphant and the ardent monk Mortman accompanied him,
charged to obtain from the archbishop the promise ‘that he would imbrue
his hands in the blood of the friends of God.’ Knox therefore calls
these three men _Satan’s sergeants_.

[Sidenote: TRIAL OF KENNEDY AND RUSSEL.]

Having reached Glasgow the three men got round the chancellor-prelate,
and demanded of him far more than he could lawfully grant: he was not
only to have the two evangelical Christians examined, he must put them
to death. What reproaches he would incur if he protected heretics! what
praises would he not win if he were ardent in serving the Church! Gawin
yielded, and Russel and Kennedy were put on their trial. They appeared
before the court, over which the archbishop himself presided, and the
proceedings began. Thanks to the inventive zeal of Lauder and his
colleagues, numerous charges were brought forward against the accused.
Kennedy had an upright soul, but had rather an inclination to the faith
than faith itself. The imposing display of judicial pomp, the gravity
of the accusations, the severity of the punishment which was preparing,
and the horrible agony which was to precede it, all disturbed the young
man; he was distressed, and being sharply pressed to retract what he
had written, he was intimidated and went astray.

Russel, on the other hand, whose faith, the fruit of close examination
of the Word of God, was developed and established by long-continued
studies, appeared full of decision. He replied with wisdom to his
accusers, defended by powerful proofs the doctrines which he professed,
and repulsed with calmness, dignity, and intrepidity the false
accusations of his enemies. His words had an unlooked-for result: they
reawakened the conscience of his young companion. The Spirit of God,
the Spirit of all consolation, worked in him. The Christian life, which
had scarcely begun in his heart, now expanded itself. ‘He felt himself
as it were a new creature; his mind was changed;’ a living faith filled
his heart; he was confirmed in his resolution.[226] From that time he
no longer hesitated to give up his life for the truth. The happiness
which he had lost came back to him; his countenance brightened, his
tongue was loosed, there was a radiance in his whole person; and,
falling on his knees, he exclaimed with joy--‘O eternal God, how
wondrous is that love and mercy that thou bearest unto mankind, and
unto me the most caitiff and miserable wretch above all others; for
even now, when I would have denied thee and thy Son, our Lord Jesus
Christ, my only Saviour, and so have casten myself in everlasting
damnation, thou by thine own hand hast pulled me from the very bottom
of hell, and makest me to feel that heavenly comfort which takes from
me that ungodly fear wherewith before I was oppressed. Now I defy
death.’ Then, rising, he turned towards his persecutors and said, ‘Do
what ye please; I praise God I am ready.’[227]

The prayer of Kennedy touched the archbishop of Glasgow. He was
disturbed. ‘It is better to spare these men,’ said he; ‘executions
such as those which have taken place only do harm to the cause which
they are meant to serve.’ The cardinal’s agents resolved to frighten
the prelate, whose weakness they well knew, and they cried out
lustily--‘Take care what ye are doing, my lord. Will ye condemn all
that my lord cardinal and the other bishops and we have done? If so ye
do, ye show yourself enemy to the kirk.’ Fear fell on the archbishop.
Repressing the pity which had touched him, and silencing his conscience
for the sake of preserving his reputation and his comfortable and easy
life, he gave way.

[Sidenote: THEIR MARTYRDOM.]

Russel had remained calm till then, but exasperated by the calumnies of
his enemies, indignant at the weakness of the archbishop, and confident
in his own innocence, he said with dignity--‘This is your hour and
power of darkness; now sit ye as judges, we stand wrongously accused,
and more wrongously to be condemned; but the day shall come when our
innocency shall appear, and that ye shall see your own blindness, to
your everlasting confusion. Go forward, and fulfil the measure of
your iniquity.’ Russel and Kennedy, condemned to the flames, were
immediately handed over to the secular power.

The day following, as they passed to the place of execution, Russel
thought that he perceived some apprehension in his friend. ‘Brother,’
said he, ‘fear not: more potent is he that is in us than is he that
is in the world. The pain that we shall suffer is short and shall be
light, but our joy and our consolation shall never have end.’ They who
heard it were wonderfully affected. When the two martyrs arrived at
the pile, they fell on their knees and prayed; then, rising, they were
bound to the stake without uttering a word, and supported the fire with
patience, making no sign of fear. ‘They won the victory over death,
looking with faith,’ says a historian, ‘for everlasting habitations.’




                              CHAPTER X.

 TERGIVERSATIONS OF KING JAMES V.--NEGOTIATIONS WITH HENRY VIII.--THEY
                                 FAIL.

                         (1540-JANUARY, 1542.)


The Romish party was not yet satisfied. ‘These cruel beasts,’ says
Knox, ‘did intend nothing but murder in all quarters of the realm.’
James was surrounded with men who urged him on in that direction.
Many of his courtiers, associates of his dissipation, instigated
him to persecution because they were pensioners to priests for that
purpose.[228] Oliver Sinclair was the foremost of these secret tools
of the clergy. The cardinal’s influence was increased by circumstances
which occurred at this time. Archbishop James Beatoun died in the
autumn of 1539, after having attended as a witness at the baptism of
the king’s eldest son. By his last will he left his archbishopric of
St. Andrews to his nephew David, who, when confirmed by the king, was
thenceforth both cardinal and primate of Scotland.

[Sidenote: JAMES V. AND HIS BISHOPS.]

Henry VIII. was induced by these changes to take fresh steps towards
gaining over his nephew. He was acquainted with the cardinal, and knew
his relations with France and the papacy. At the beginning of 1540
Sir R. Sadler was sent to Scotland.[229] The moment was well chosen.
James V. was just then fully disposed to make peace with his uncle.
The Lords Murray, Huntley, and Bothwell were in disgrace, and James
wrote to Henry VIII. as his ‘dearest brother and uncle,’ and commended
himself to him in his most hearty and affectionate manner. Henry sent
him presents and the most gracious messages, inquiring earnestly after
his health; and all this courtesy James received in the most amiable
manner imaginable. Henry however meant to go to the main point, and
Thomas Eure, one of his envoys, strove to discover what were the
purposes of the King of Scotland respecting the bishop of Rome and the
Reformation. One of the councillors, Ballenden, replied to him with
great politeness, ‘The King of Scottes himself, with all his temporall
counsaile, was gretely geven to the reformation of the mysdemeanors of
busshops, religious personnes, and priests within the realme.’[230]
James gave even then some proofs of this disposition. On the day of
the Epiphany, January 6, 1540, there was a grand feast at the court,
and a dramatic spectacle was given in the palace of Linlithgow. The
king, the queen, and all the councillors spiritual and temporal were
present; and the purport of the piece was to exhibit the presumption of
the bishops, the iniquities of the courts spiritual, the evil ways of
the priests, and in one word, the ‘noughtines’ of such religion as then
existed. Perhaps the king was minded to let the bishops hear a sermon
in that shape. It is very unlikely that anyone would have dared to give
such a spectacle without his authority. However that may be, James was
struck with it; and when the piece was finished, he had the archbishop
in Glasgow, chancellor of the realm, called to him, as well as the
other bishops, whose thoughts and fears during the representation may
be imagined. ‘I exhort you,’ said the king to them, ‘to reform your
fashions and manners of living. If you do not, I will send six of the
proudest of you unto my uncle of England,[231] and after he has put
them in order, I will do the same with the rest if they will not
amend.’ The chancellor, in consternation, humbly answered, ‘One word
of your grace’s mouth shall suffice them to be at commandment.’ James
rejoined immediately and angrily, ‘I shall gladly bestow any words of
my mouth that can amend them,’ The notion of applying to Henry VIII.
to set his bishops right was original; and the prelates of Scotland,
knowing that that preceptor did not spare the rod nor even the sword,
trembled to the very marrow of their bones. Ballenden, in confirmation
of these new intentions of James, said to Thomas Eure, ‘The king is
fully minded to expel all spiritual men from having any authority by
office under his grace, either in household or elsewhere.’ It appears
that the author of the drama, author also in part of the change wrought
in the prince, was Sir David Lyndsay, who had been the king’s guardian
and companion during his minority. This bold man of letters composed
many satires against the superstitions of the age, and above all
against the ignorance and licentiousness of the clergy; but the king
never allowed the cardinal to lift a finger to harm him.

The convictions of James were not very deep, and his own life was not
such as to give him the right to criticise the lives of the bishops. So
long as this liberal humor of the prince lasted, the cardinal seems to
have abstained from demonstrations hostile to the reform of the Church.
He was sure of getting him to change his mind, and he did not trouble
himself about comedies to which he was bent on replying by tragedies.
He was not long in showing his inflexibility, and the capricious humor
of the king again bent under his immovable firmness. Other men have
been named great, just, or well-bred. Beatoun deserved to be called
persecutor. This surname, which history inflicts on him as a disgrace,
he seems to have aspired to as a glory.

[Sidenote: SIR JOHN BORTHWICK.]

Beatoun assembled at St. Andrews the prelates and the nobles who
enjoyed his confidence. An elevated seat was provided for him in the
cathedral, and he sat there in his twofold character of primate and of
cardinal. The earls of Huntley, Arran, and Montrose, the earl Marshall,
and Lords Erskine, Lyndsay, Fleming, Seaton, and many other barons and
men of rank, Gawin, archbishop of Glasgow and chancellor, the bishops
of Aberdeen, Galloway, and others besides, abbots and priors, deans
and doctors of theology, were around him. David Beatoun, proud to see
beneath him that illustrious and brilliant assembly, began to speak.
He set forth with warm feeling the dangers to which the multiplication
of heretics was exposing the Roman faith: the audacity with which they
avowed their opinions, even at the court, where they found too much
support, he added, alluding thus to the famous dramatic representation
with which James had been so struck. Then impatient to show the serious
import of his words, he announced that he had cited before that
assembly Sir John Borthwick, brother of the lord of the same name,
provost of Linlithgow, who had probably had a hand in the satirical
drama. ‘This heretic gives out,’ he said, ‘that the pope has no more
authority than other bishops, that his indulgences have no other
effect than to deceive the people, that the religious orders ought to
be abolished, that all ecclesiastics are at liberty to marry, and in
short, that the Scots, blinded by their clergy, do not profess the true
faith. He reads and circulates the New Testament in English, and divers
treatises of Melanchthon, Œcolampadius, and Erasmus, and refuses to
submit to the see of Rome.’

Borthwick, instead of going to St. Andrews, set out in all haste for
England, where he was well received by Henry VIII., and was afterwards
employed by him as one of his commissioners to the princes of Germany.
But although Beatoun could not send the lamb to the slaughter, he could
at least find the way to possess himself of the fleece. On May 28 the
confiscation of Sir John’s property was pronounced and his effigy was
burnt, first at St. Andrews and two days after at Edinburgh. The fire
did him no great harm, but it served to give a certain point to the
cardinal’s discourse.[232]

The king had now again returned, under the influence of the cardinal,
to the side of Rome. This prince, so thoughtless, hasty, violent, and
unprincipled, bent before every breeze and changed his opinion and his
will at a word from those who were about him. Money he wanted, and
he would have received it from one party as readily as from another,
from the nobles as well as from the priests: but the latter were more
persevering and more skilful in finding out the crowns of which he had
need. ‘They are always at the king’s ear,’ said Sadler, one of the
envoys of Henry VIII. Sir James Hamilton, his treasurer, was at his
left ear, and Beatoun, the cardinal, at his right. The treasurer had
at that time received large sums from the cardinal for the king, and
James, won by that argument, pronounced himself against the friends
of the Reformation with the passion which he had before shown towards
the prelates. Sir James Hamilton, brother of the earl of Arran, a
man of dishonorable character, cruel, and the murderer of the earl
of Lennox, was then invested by command of the king with functions
resembling those of an inquisitor. ‘I charge you,’ said James, ‘to
seize all persons suspected of heresy, and to inflict on them after
judgment such penalties as they have deserved.’ In the excess of his
popish zeal he exclaimed, ’Not a man of that sort shall find any mercy
at my hands, not even my own son, if it were proved that he was in the
number of the guilty.’ This declaration alarmed many. It was plain
that an inquisitorial court was to be set up, and Hamilton was already
preparing everything for that end. But on a sudden he was himself
thrown into the prison in which he meant to confine the friends of the
Reformation. Accused either justly or unjustly of treason, even of a
conspiracy against the life of the king, he was arrested, and James, in
his wrath, had him put to death in August 1540.

[Sidenote: BIRTH OF A SON TO JAMES.]

James spoke of his son. He had indeed a son, but one not old enough to
excite any fears with respect to what he called heresy. The child was
born on May 22, 1540, and had been named James after his father. ‘He is
fair and lively,’ wrote the king to his uncle Henry VIII., ‘and will
succeed to us and this our realm.’[233] Very proud of this son and of
having an heir, he felt his crown to be more secure than ever,[234] and
began to contemn the nobles. ‘They will no longer dare,’ said he, ‘to
attempt anything against my house.’

The baptism of the boy took place May 28, and on the next day the king
embarked on some voyage. Nobody could give an explanation of this
abrupt departure. Some said that the king was going to France, others
said to Ireland, where the leading men, it was reported, would take
him for their king.[235] ‘I am only going to visit the isles, to put
everything in order,’ he wrote to Henry VIII. The cardinal and the
prelates resolved to take advantage of his absence. The king, they saw,
was in ill humor with the nobles, and all those who were suspected in
the matter of doctrine must be got rid of. But one discreet man, James
Kirkcaldy of Grange, the lord treasurer, having received information
of this project, made it known to the king, and set before him all the
calamities to which he would expose himself if he gave his support
to the conspiracy. James, once more turning about, was enraged at
this intrigue hatched in his absence. The cardinal, attended by many
bishops, came to Holyrood palace to greet him, and presented to
him a paper on which were inscribed the names of nobles suspected
of heresy and of whom it would be well to get rid. He dwelt even on
the gain which would flow to the crown from that course. James said
sharply--‘Pack, you jefwellis![236] Get ye to your charges and reform
your own lives: be not instruments of discord betwixt my nobility and
me: or else I vow to God I shall reform you by sharp whingers if ever I
hear such motion of you again.’

The prelates, astounded at this rebuke, withdrew in confusion, and gave
up their scheme for a time.

[Sidenote: SCOTT OF PITGORNO.]

A second son was born to James in the town of Stirling in April 1541,
and this event both heightened his joy and increased his pride. His
happiness however was frequently disturbed. Certain people were
incessantly endeavoring to deceive him. Hateful informers denounced
to him one or other of his earls, his barons, and other subjects, as
bent on taking his life, and thus threw him into a state of great
alarm. In another direction some of his favorites were leading him
to blameworthy acts. He had to pay dearly for his errors, and was
punished by his very crimes. His mind was often in a state of gloomy
reverie. Thomas Scott of Pitgorno, a courtier who had enjoyed his
good graces and had been named by him lord of Lefries, and afterwards
promoted to a higher office in the administration of justice,[237] had
been guilty of many misdeeds. He was accused, among other things, of
having plundered pretended Lutherans, and it was added that the king
had gained something by it. Remorse tormented these two wretched men.
One night, while James was at Linlithgow, he dreamed that he saw Scott
coming towards him surrounded by a company of devils, and that he
heard him say in a sepulchral tone--‘Woe to the day that ever I knew
thee or thy service. For, for serving of thee against God, against
his servants, and against justice I am adjudged to endless torment.’
The king awoke in terror. With a loud voice he called for torches (it
was midnight), and he made all who were in the palace get up, and
said to them--‘Thomas Scott is dead! He has appeared to me.’ He then
related his horrible dream. That same night Thomas Scott, then at
Edinburgh, was stricken with a terrible agony. ‘I am damned,’ said he,
‘I am damned! It is by the just judgment of God--_justo Dei judicio
condemnatus sum_.’ He died in the midst of these torments. James heard
of this death the next morning and was still more terrified. Such is
the tale of the chroniclers and historians of Scotland.[238] It is
certainly wonderful, but stranger coincidences have been known.

James had yet other causes of uneasiness. His sleepless nights were
disturbed, gloomy, and agitated; and even the light of morning did not
disperse his inward darkness. The death of Hamilton, whose execution
he had hastily ordered on mere suspicion, frequently gave him bitter
pain. That unfortunate lord had done for the prince all that he had
wished; and the latter now asked himself whether he had done well to
deprive himself of so devoted a secretary. Perhaps he was innocent.
He might have been calumniated. One night, at Linlithgow, James saw
Hamilton in a dream, with his sword drawn, rush upon him and cut off
first his right then his left arm,[239] saying to him, ‘Take that!
while thou receive a final payment for all thine impiety.’ James
awoke trembling, and asked himself what this dream could mean. His
imagination was impressed by it. He mused mournfully on the strange
vision, and expected that some heavy blow was about to fall on him. It
was in this state of mind that a message reached him from Stirling that
his son Arthur has just died. Shortly after, another message came from
St. Andrews to announce to him that his son James was dead. These two
young princes, his hope, his joy, and his glory, were no more. Within
twenty-four hours of each other (some say at the same hour), they had
been taken from him. He now comprehended his dream. His two arms were
already cut off: it only remained for him to lose his own life, and all
would be accomplished. Nothing could divert this prince, who was guilty
at once of profligacy and of persecution: nothing could beguile his
grief. His heart was broken, his mind was disordered.

He shut himself up, and the only person whom he would see was his
mother. Unhappy father! unhappy king! The queen-dowager did all she
could to console her son and her daughter-in-law. ‘I am never from
them,’ she wrote to her brother, Henry VIII., May 12, 1541, ‘but ever
in their company.’ It appears that by this large sorrow the natural
affections were reawakened in the king. He wrote to his uncle that he
desired to see good will and the most perfect friendship and peace
prevail between them.[240]

[Sidenote: PROGRESS OF THE REFORMATION.]

While James was thus taken up with his sorrows alone, the doctrine of
the Reformation made progress, and, if only liberty were accorded to
it, its triumph in Scotland appeared to be at hand. A great multitude
of the common people, both in the country districts and in the towns,
held meetings more or less secretly at which they heard the Holy Word
read and even explained. By 1540 many eminent men had received the
evangelical doctrine. The earls of Errol and of Glencairn, the Lords
Ruthven and Kilmaurs and their children, Sir David Lyndsay, Sir James
Sandilands, Melville of Raith, and a large number of other influential
persons appeared to be attached to the Gospel by genuine conviction.

Henry VIII., when informed of this state of things, thought that he
ought to avail himself of it for his own advantage. His favorite notion
was to engage the King of Scotland to make his country independent
of Rome, and as James was his nephew he did not despair of success.
As long ago as 1535 he had sent Barlow to him with books against the
authority of the pope. That measure failed. Next he had despatched Lord
Howard to James, who was still unmarried, to offer to him the hand of
his daughter Mary, and with her the prospect of the crown of England,
if he would establish the royal supremacy in the Church. Another
failure. In 1540 Henry had charged Sir Ralph Sadler to set before James
the advantages which he would obtain from a Reformation, and to propose
an interview with him. Sadler, in order to counteract beforehand the
cardinal’s influence, communicated to the King of Scotland some letters
from that prelate to the pope, which had been intercepted by the
English, and from which it was manifest that Beatoun’s aim was to place
the state in subjection to the Romish Church. The prince answered with
a smile that the cardinal had already shown him those letters.[241]

All the endeavors of the English envoy had proved futile. At bottom,
the end which Beatoun was pursuing was the ruin of Henry VIII.; and in
order the more surely to attain it, he was ambitious to be appointed
legate _a latere_, a dignity which would invest him in Scotland
with the extraordinary powers which he did actually obtain. He did
everything to conduct to a happy issue the alliance against England
which had been previously projected by the pope. The English Council of
the North wrote to Cromwell--‘We think that the cardinal of Scotland
intendeth to take his journey towards Rome in Lent next coming, and
we think it should appear by the schedule of instructions herein
inclosed, which was taken on a ship lost at Bamborough, that the Scots
intend some mystery with some of their allies.’[242] Henry, alarmed
at this news, caused fresh entreaties to be pressed on his nephew.
His ambassadors promised James that if he would go to York to confer
with his uncle, the meeting would have the happiest consequences for
him, and would afford him the most unanswerable proof of the love
which Henry bore him.[243] It appears even that one of them, speaking
of the feeble health of prince Edward, held before the eyes of James
Stuart the brilliant prospect of the crown of England, leaving Mary
and Elizabeth entirely out of sight. The nobles of Scotland, natural
enemies of the priests, urged the king to agree to the interview with
his uncle. Articles were drawn up at the beginning of December 1541,
by the commissioners of Scotland and England. They purported that King
James would meet his dear uncle, the King of England, on January 15,
1542, at the city of York, for the purpose of mutual communications
tending to increase their cordial love, to draw closer the ties of
blood, and to promote the prosperity of their kingdoms.[244] These
articles raised Henry to the summit of his wishes, and he took measures
immediately for imparting to this interview extraordinary solemnity
and brilliancy. This conference of the two kings made a great noise in
Scotland, and preparations were also made there. Henry VIII. set out
and went to York full of hope. Uncle and nephew were at last to see
each other, and to talk together, and every one saw that this meeting
would have weighty consequences. Never was Scotland nearer having a
reform after the fashion of Henry VIII.

[Sidenote: PROJECTED INTERVIEW AT YORK.]

No one understood this better than Beatoun. What he feared more than
all besides was that the power of the Romish hierarchy would be
abolished, and the Gospel be put in its place. The cardinal, for the
first time in his life, had been anticipated, surpassed in cleverness
and in influence. He did not however lose courage, but with all the
adherents of his party applied himself to the task with all his soul.
They sowed hatred between the king and the nobles. They employed all
imaginable means to dissuade the king from the fatal meeting. At first
they sought to alarm him. ‘By going to York,’ said the cardinal to him,
‘you will expose yourself to the suspicions of the emperor, you will
make an enemy of your old ally the King of France, and you will bring
down on yourself the disgrace of the pope. In short’ (and it was this
which most terrified James), ‘you will expose yourself to the greatest
dangers. This treacherous king will keep you prisoner in England as
James I. was kept in former days.’ James replied that he had given
his word, and that the king was awaiting him, that to absent himself
from the _rendezvous_ would lead to war with England, and that he
had not the means of carrying it on. The cardinal was amazed at this
independence of the king, for he was not accustomed to it. Discerning
more and more clearly the greatness of the peril, his bishops and he
agreed that there was but one means available for inducing James to
renounce his purpose. As this prince was always in want of money, they
sought to gain him by gifts of large sums.[245] This argument did not
miss the mark. They then appealed to him anew and said--‘Sire, there is
a good deal of money in Scotland, and it is easy to get possession of
it. If war should break out, the clergy will give you thirty thousand
crowns per annum, and you will be able to get a hundred thousand more
by confiscating the property of heretics, if you will only authorize
proceedings against them by a judge whom we will name to you and who
is well qualified for the purpose. Will you spare this wicked people?
Do they not read the Old and New Testaments? Are they not in rebellion
against the authority of the pope and against the king’s majesty?
Have they not, by new and detestable errors, troubled the churches,
destroyed piety, and overthrown institutions established for many
centuries? They refuse to the priests whom God has consecrated all
obedience and respect. But there must be no delay.’ James yielded. He
conceded to the bishops the inquisition which they claimed, and sent
Sir James Learmont, one of the officers of his court, to offer his
excuses to his uncle. Of all James’s proceedings this was the most
perilous.




                              CHAPTER XI.

          WAR BETWEEN ENGLAND AND SCOTLAND--DEATH OF JAMES V.

                                (1542.)


[Sidenote: PREPARATIONS FOR WAR.]

It is easy to imagine the wrath of Henry VIII. when he found himself
alone at York. He had made an agreement with his nephew; he had left
London to have a conference with him; he had made great preparations;
he had gone to the north; and then the young man was missing at the
_rendezvous_! He was beside himself with anger. His sister, the mother
of James, had died at the end of November 1541. But even if she had
lived it was hardly likely that her influence would have appeased the
rage of the king. He was provoked not only because his favorite project
broke down just at the moment when he expected to see it carried out,
but still more by the intolerable affront which the King of Scotland
had just offered him. He could not endure it, and he swore that he
would wash his name and his memory of that insult by a startling act of
vengeance. He wrote to James letters full of the sharpest reproaches
and the most violent menaces. ‘I have still in my hand,’ said he,
‘the very rod which chastised your father.’ That rod was the duke of
Norfolk, who while earl of Surrey had commanded at Flodden, where James
IV. was killed. Henry immediately authorized piratical expeditions
by sea, and invasions on the Scottish borders; but these pirates and
marauders were only the precursors of the chastisements which he was
preparing.

James was frightened; and as it was to please his prelates that he had
failed to keep his promise, it was his wish that the expenses of the
war should fall on them. He told them that, thanks to them, he was
going to war with the King of England, and demanded the subsidies which
they had promised. ‘If you do not furnish me with them,’ he added,
‘I shall have no choice but to confer with my uncle and satisfy his
wishes.’ This menace terrified the prelates; ‘for rather would they
have gone to hell.’[246] What would France say? What would the pope
say? thought the cardinal. The bishops promised mountains of gold.
After deliberation on the matter, they agreed to give the king fifty
thousand crowns a year so long as the war lasted. They added, that
their servants and other dependents who were exempt from military
service would take up arms. These promises filled the heart of the
rash young monarch with confidence and pride. Troops were sent to
Jedburgh and to Kelso, and the priests and all their party were pluming
themselves on their wealth and their power, and talking of nothing
but their victory. They were mad with joy, and were already dreaming
of again bringing England under the papal sway. It was possible for
an instant to suppose that they were right. The parliament of England
had not shown itself so forward as the clergy of Scotland; its members
had closed their ears to Henry’s demands for money. This slackened
his preparations for war. There were, however, some troops on the
frontier, and they formed the design of seizing Jedburgh. The earl
Angus and Sir George Douglas, his brother, who had been banished from
Scotland for some years, joined these troops, which numbered four
thousand men. But the Scots had taken their measures. Lord Huntley, at
the head of a large force, encountered the English troops at Halidon
on August 24. The fight was already begun, when another Scottish party
appeared. The English, perceiving that they were in danger of being
surrounded, retreated. Only a few were killed, but very many were taken
prisoners.[247]

There was no longer any limit to the joy of prelate and priest. They
encouraged the king; they vaunted themselves as if they had in person
gained a victory. In bishops’ palaces, in the parsonages of priests,
and in the convents of monks, nothing was heard but shouts of triumph.
‘All is ours,’ said they; ‘they are but heretics. If we be a thousand
and they ten thousand, they dare not fight. France shall enter the
one part and we the other, and so shall England be conquered within a
year.’[248]

[Sidenote: PROJECTS OF HENRY VIII.]

James, notwithstanding his imprudence, did not indulge in these foolish
illusions. He knew that Henry VIII. was much stronger than himself.
The blow which the wrath of his uncle had inflicted on him made him
turn from left to right. He wished to take advantage of the petty
victory of Halidon for making peace with England. Persecution ceased in
Scotland, and liberty of conscience was more liberally granted. On the
day after the engagement, and before James was informed of the result,
he had already written to Henry, and had asked him for passports for
his plenipotentiaries. On September 1 he wrote to him again: ‘We assure
you, dearest uncle,’ said he, ‘there is within our realm neither of
spiritual nor temporal state that may or shall change our favor and
kindness toward you.’[249] But Henry was not of such an easy temper:
he bore in mind the affront at York, and he intended to avenge it.
He forbade the ambassadors of his nephew to pass beyond that city.
During this time he was collecting all kinds of munitions of war, and
in very large quantities. He assembled an army such as Scotland had
not for a long time seen at her borders, and gave the command of it to
that duke of Norfolk who was to defeat the son as he had defeated the
father. The King of England wanted also to be the king of Scotland,
and wished that the whole of Great Britain should belong to the same
prince. This dream was one day to be realized, but with this great
difference, that it would not be the King of England who should become
king of Scotland, but the King of Scotland who should become king of
England. We find in the State Papers the following despatch, addressed
by the English privy council to the archbishop of York:--‘Minding to
have the king’s majesty’s title to the realm of Scotland more fully,
plainly, and clearly set forth to all the world, that the justness of
our quarrel and demand may appear, we have appointed certain learned
men to travail in the same. And for because we knew that your lordship
in times past hath taken some pains in the same thing, we pray you not
only to cause all your old registers and ancient places to be sought,
where you think anything may be found for the more clear declaration
to the world of his majesty’s title to that realm, and so what shall
be found to certify us thereof accordingly; but also to signify unto
us what ancient charters and monuments for that purpose you have seen,
and where the same are to be sought for.’ For having failed to make the
promised visit, James must lose his crown. Once let the King of England
have possessed himself of Scotland (thanks to his soldiers, without
doubt, more than to his charters and muniments), he would banish popery
and establish his own bishops in its place, and above all his own
papacy.

Henry published a manifesto in which he declared that his nephew had
been the aggressor. He claimed for the Tudors the crown of the Stuarts.
He resented as bitterly as ever the wound received at York; and the
vengeance which he reckoned on taking was to be cruel, memorable,
and revolutionary. The energy of the uncle was as conspicuous as
the feebleness of the nephew; and when James wrote again with all
_naïveté_, ‘I love you,’ Henry replied savagely, ‘I hate you.’

Norfolk, impatient to avenge the retreat from Halidon, determined to
make an inroad into Scotland before the whole of the army was mustered.
He therefore marched from Berwick, at the northeastern extremity of
England, ravaged the country districts, took several unimportant
places, got himself into various scrapes, and announced that he should
immediately appear at Edinburgh. But within eight or ten days after
passing the Borders he withdrew. He had merely paid an unceremonious
visit, preliminary to one official and in state.

[Sidenote: MUTINY OF THE SCOTS.]

Meanwhile James was putting himself into a position to receive that
visit gallantly, and was assembling his army before Edinburgh. He had
there about twenty thousand men, besides ten thousand more on the
frontier, under the command of the earl of Huntley. But dissension
prevailed in his camp. There were some who cared little for the old
doctrine, but who were eager above everything to break the iron yoke
of the cardinal. Others there were, attached to the Douglases and the
Anguses, who were in the English army, and who had no mind to fight
against them. Others, again, feeling the inferiority of the Scottish
army, steadily insisted that they ought to remain strictly on the
defensive. On a sudden, the Scots encamped at Fala learnt that for want
of supplies the English were retreating on the Tweed. James, who was
easily excited, immediately called together his lords, and exclaimed,
‘Forward! follow me into England!’ His words were received in a gloomy
silence. ‘We are ready, sire,’ said some of the lords to him, ‘to risk
life and whatsoever we have to defend your person and your realm,
but we do not see any sufficient reason for invading England. Our
provisions are spent, our horses wearied; and as for ourselves, we
have so long been absent from our homes, that we think it high time to
return.’

James dissembled his chagrin, and even assumed an air of approval
of the discretion of his lords. But he trembled to see his kingly
authority trampled under foot by his subjects. He was plainly master
no longer. His subservience to the priests had ruined him. The nobles
and the common soldiers, instead of falling upon the English, returned
every man to his own home, and the king, abandoned and left almost
alone, consumed by the profound vexation which was gradually wearing
him away, returned mournfully to Edinburgh.

It was now November 2 or 3. He immediately convoked a council at
Holyrood palace. But in his rage against the nobles, he summoned only
the bishops, the priests, and their partisans; all those who made a
trade of pandering to the passions of the prince and who had no other
aim but to secure the triumph of the clergy. When they saw the king’s
discouragement, and his anger against the nobles, they persuaded
themselves that the moment was come for them to make an end of their
enemies. That, they thought, would not be very difficult. These men,
branded by public opinion, did not care to furnish evidence in support
of their denunciations. The only trouble they took was to deprive
the innocent of all means of clearing themselves. They thought that
it would for the moment suffice them to obtain a hearing, to accuse
some noble of heresy and to call as witnesses certain men of infamous
character in their own pay. With one accord, therefore, they all strove
to inflame the king against the Reformation and its friends. Oliver
Sinclair, among the laymen, distinguished himself in these proceedings,
and among the churchmen, Beatoun. ‘The cardinal and the priests,’ it
was said, ‘cast fagots in the fire with all their force.’[250] They
drew up a list containing the names of all of whom they wished to be
rid. There were the names of about one hundred nobles, among whom were
Lord Hamilton, the first person of the realm after the king, the earls
of Cassilis and Glencairn, the earl Marshal, and other nobles, all well
disposed towards the Word of God.[251] This fact shows what progress
the Reformation had made in Scotland. The majority of these _suspects_,
to be sure, were not decided evangelical Christians, but they had
leanings that way. Once already James had refused to accept such a
list. But the case was different now, and he accepted it at once, and
expressed to the prelates his regret that he had so long set their
counsels aside. ‘I see clearly at this moment that you are right,’
he said; ‘the nobles neither desire my honor nor my continuance; for
they would not ride a mile for my pleasure to follow enemies. Will
ye therefore find me the means that I may have raid made in England
without their knowledge and consent, that may be known to be my own
raid, and I shall bind me to your counsel forever.’

[Sidenote: A PROSCRIPTION LIST.]

The joy of the cardinal and his friends was unbounded. They
congratulated each other, they clapped their hands;[252] the game was
won. They made promises one to another of diligent service, discretion,
and fidelity. They encountered however some few difficulties. The king
required before all else an invasion, and he wanted to be able to say
to the nobles, ‘Where you fell back I advanced and have conquered.’ How
proceed so as to insure success in the enterprise? They resolved to
select as the battle-field not the east, in the direction of Berwick,
where the forces of Henry VIII. lay, but the northwestern quarter,
which was stripped, left without an army, almost without a garrison.
Carlisle would presently be taken, and James would triumph at the same
time over the nobles and the king of England.

He attached the utmost importance to this deed of arms. The royal
banner was secretly brought out, letters were addressed to the men
selected by the priests, inviting them to meet the king on such a
day, at such a place. The bishops undertook to bear the expenses of
this affair. The cardinal and the earl of Arran, by way of diversion,
went eastward, as if the Scots purposed to pass the frontier in that
quarter, where frequent combats had taken place between them and
the English. The king, satisfied with all these preparations, and
entertaining no doubt of success, accepted the fatal list presented by
the cardinal and put it into his pocket. Immediately after his triumph
and in the very midst of his glory, all those suspected should be
seized and executed. The Reformation should be extinguished, and Rome
should definitively reign. Everything was to be done with the strictest
secrecy.

On the night before the day appointed for setting out, James slept at
Lochmaben,[253] where stood one of the royal castles. There, without
incurring any danger, he was as near as possible to the scene of the
exploits all the honor of which he wished to reap. Troops arrive from
all sides, without any knowledge of what was wanted with them. On the
day fixed, at midnight, the trumpets sound, the companies are formed,
and the command is given to march forward ‘in the suite of the king,’
who was supposed to be with the expedition. At daybreak begins the
campaign which is to deliver up Scotland into the cruel hands of the
cardinal. The Scots approach the territory of England and pass the
water without meeting any resistance. They set fire to the houses and
corn fields which lie on their way, and the poor dwellers in those
country places, starting out of their sleep, see before them to their
great amazement an army of ten thousand men, and flames shooting up on
all sides. They tremble with fright and resign themselves to despair,
wondering in themselves how such an army could possibly have advanced
so far without their having the faintest suspicion of it. Whence comes
it? Whither is it going? Is it come from the abyss of hell?

[Sidenote: ROUT OF THE SCOTS.]

Everything about this expedition was indeed extraordinary, and even the
Scots themselves did not know who was in command. Lord Maxwell, warden
of the western marches, was present, and to him that office naturally
belonged; but neither he nor the troops knew anything at all about the
matter. At ten o’clock an unexpected event occurred. The Scots finding
themselves on English ground at Solway, the trumpets were sounded,
the army halted, and the royal flag was displayed and floated in the
midst of them. The wretched Oliver Sinclair mounted on a kind of shield
formed by lances which rested on the shoulders of some of the soldiers.
He presented letters which had been sent him by the king. This prince,
in the belief that this worthless courtier was a great captain, had
named him commander-in-chief. These letters were read to the army, and
the favorite had himself proclaimed lieutenant-general, with orders to
render obedience to him as to the king himself. By what the courtiers
said, to put Sinclair at the head of the army was to make victory
certain. James would not rely upon any of his nobles. Not one of them
was to have the glory of the expedition; it was to be the achievement
of James, to whom the command belonged. Maxwell was present at that
ceremony, seeing everything, hearing everything, and he was astounded
at it, ‘but he thought more than he spoke.’[254] Other lords who were
present did the same. No sooner had the proclamation been read than
murmurs, discouragement, and disorder spread through the army. At the
same time the English took up arms in all haste, ten in one company,
twenty in another. Carlisle closed its gates, and shortly after about
five hundred horsemen appeared on the neighboring heights for the
purpose of reconnoitring the Scottish force.[255] The Scots took these
horsemen for the advance guard of the army of the duke of Norfolk, and
being seized with a panic terror, many of them broke from the ranks.
Some wanted to fight, others wanted to fly. Everything was disorder and
confusion. The troops disbanded and took to flight in all directions.
Lord Maxwell, who had foreseen from the first moment the end of this
mad business, alighted from his horse and spoke to some friends. ‘To
horse and fly,’ they said to him. ‘Nay,’ replied he, ‘I will rather
abide here the chance that it shall please God to send me than to go
home and then be hanged.’[256] The Scots, both horse and foot, threw
away their arms and ran with all their might. A great number of them
were taken prisoners by the soldiers of Henry VIII., and some were
captured by Scottish adventurers and sold to the English.[257] To such
a degree had James’s soldiers lost heart, that those who did not fall
into the hands of men rushed into houses and surrendered themselves
to women.[258] The water had to be recrossed: the tide was high, the
river deep. Many were drowned, and a good number of those who escaped
the river perished in the marshes. Oliver Sinclair, who was ‘fleeing
full manfully,’[259] was captured without having struck a single
blow. The most distinguished among the Scottish nobles, the earls of
Cassilis and Glencairn, the Lords Somerville, Grey, and Oliphant, were
seen laying down their arms. Maxwell found thus the fate which he had
desired. These lords and gentlemen were sent to London and committed
to the Tower. Two days after, Henry commanded that they should pass
through the streets of London on foot, exposed thus as a spectacle to
the populace,[260] like the captives who adorned the triumphs of Roman
generals. When they arrived at the palace, they were received there by
the Lord Chancellor, who addressed to them severe rebukes, accused them
of having violated the faith of treaties, and extolled the goodness and
clemency of Henry VIII., who assigned them various houses for their
abode.

[Sidenote: MURDER OF AN ENGLISH ENVOY.]

During the battle, if such a word is to be used, James, who took good
care to keep out of it, was concealed in his castle at Lochmaben,
northeast of Dumfries.[261] There he was awaiting the issue of that
famous expedition which was to be his title to glory. He had made
sure of taking at the first blow the town of Carlisle, situated at
a distance of some miles from the frontier, and formerly one of the
principal military posts of the Romans, at which the wall of Hadrian
terminated, and which had been more than once besieged and taken.
Thence he hoped to pass on and reach York, and pay an _armed_ visit
to his dear uncle there. He was expecting the tidings of his triumph,
when some of the fugitives made known to him the total rout of his
army. Overwhelmed with sudden fear and astonishment, he could hardly
utter a word. It was night when he heard of his defeat, and not daring
to venture before daylight into unknown, untrodden ways, he retired to
bed, but without finding the least repose. His distress was unbounded.
He experienced the most acute pangs, could hardly breathe, and only
uttered some vague cries. The manner in which his unworthy favorite
had deceived his expectation, his defeat and flight, disturbed him as
much as the victory of the English. He got up, paced up and down in
his chamber, uttered lamentations, and cried out--‘Oh, fled Oliver? Is
Oliver taken? Oh, fled Oliver?’[262] He was attacked with a kind of
catalepsy. The constant contemplation of that extraordinary defeat and
of the conduct of that despicable man on whom he had rested his hopes
had in some degree suspended sensation in him, and he lay as in a long
and painful trance until his death, continually repeating, ‘Oh, fled
Oliver?’

The next morning, November 25, 1542, the king returned to Edinburgh.
He could hardly conceal his disgrace in his splendid palace; and there
a new disgrace was reported to him which still further heightened
his grief. On November 14, two envoys from the duke of Norfolk had
arrived there with a letter addressed to the king. The cardinal had
replied that he was gone a-hunting in Fifeshire. Ten days later, on
the fatal day of Solway, towards evening, when the English envoys on
their return were approaching Dunbar, one of them, J. Ponds, Somerset
herald, was attacked by two men and assassinated. James, when he
heard of this on his return, was in consternation. It might seriously
aggravate the crisis which was already so alarming. Notwithstanding the
painful state in which he then was, he wrote immediately to his uncle:
‘Be assured that punishment shall thereafter follow according to the
quality of the crime, and that there is no prince now living who could
be more afflicted than we are that such an odious crime should remain
unpunished.’ He offered to send ambassadors and heralds to explain the
criminal deed.[263] That was probably the last letter written by the
king.

James had a painful interview with the cardinal, who might now
understand to what a condition his hatred of the Reformation and his
ambition had reduced the king and the realm. James, who believed
himself pursued by a fatal destiny, took account sorrowfully, when
left alone, of his treasures and his jewels; and then, full of shame
and melancholy, and afraid to show himself to anyone whomsoever in his
capital, set out secretly for Fifeshire. He stopped at Hallyards, where
he was warmly received by the lady of Grange, a respectable and pious
woman, whose husband was absent at the time. This Christian woman,
observing at supper that the prince was plunged in melancholy, sought
to comfort him, and exhorted him to bow with resignation to the will of
God. ‘My portion of this world is short,’ sorrowfully answered James;
‘in fifteen days I shall be with you no more.’ Some time afterwards one
of the officers of his court having said to him, ‘Sire, Christmas is
nigh; where will your majesty wish to celebrate that festival?’ James
replied with a scornful smile, ‘I cannot tell: choose ye the place. But
this I can tell you, on Yule day ye will be masterless, and the realm
without a king.’

[Sidenote: LAST HOURS OF JAMES V.]

Haunted by these thoughts, the king went thence to Carney castle,
and next to his palace at Falkland, where he took to his bed. It
would have been natural for him to go to Linlithgow, to his queen,
who was on the point of giving birth to a child. He chose rather to
be at a distance from her. Loose living is incompatible with domestic
happiness. No symptom showed that his death was near. James, however,
was always repeating the words, ‘Before such a day I shall be dead.’
His courtiers, astonished and afflicted, said to one another that if
the queen gave him a son, the happiness so much desired would restore
him; but on December 8, 1542, she gave birth to a girl--the celebrated
Mary Stuart. On learning that the newborn infant was a girl, James,
wounded afresh in his dearest wish, turned to the wall, away from those
who had brought him the sad tidings. ‘The devil go with it,’ he said;
‘it will end as it began; it came with a lass, and it will go with a
lass.’[264] He saw his family extinct, his crown lost. Other Stuarts,
however, bore it after Mary. Both Scotland and England, unhappily, knew
that to their cost. But this circumstance--the hope frustrated of a son
to take the place of the two which he had lost--was a fresh and fatal
blow for the unfortunate James:

    De douleur en douleur il traversait la vie.

The cardinal presented himself at the castle. His visit was natural at
that moment. But the ambitious prelate, supposing the king to be near
death, came not to console him, but to secure his own position. As the
king in his present dangerous state could only hear with difficulty,
the primate cried in his ear--‘Take order, sir, with the realm. Who
shall rule during the minority of your daughter? Ye have known my
service; what will ye have done? Shall there not be four regents
chosen, and shall not I be principal of them?’ The clever prelate
succeeded in getting a document prepared which was in his favor. The
king was sinking. But the memory of Solway ran continually in his
head, and disturbed his last moments. ‘Fie,’ cried he; ‘fled is Oliver?
is Oliver taken? All is lost.’ On December 14, 1542, at the age of
thirty-two, six days after the birth of Mary Stuart, James V. died.
When disrobing him, they found in his pocket the famous proscription
list. What was to come of that now?

James was buried at Holyrood January 8, and the cardinal who had driven
him along that fatal path in which he was to meet death presided at the
ceremony. This prince, thus taken away in the flower of his age, died
not so much of disease as of a broken heart.[265] ‘The sorrow of the
world worketh death.’ He had understanding, but it was uncultivated; he
was moderate in respect to the pleasures of the table, but he had been
thrown in his youth into other irregularities, from which he never got
free. He might be seen in the bitterest winter weather, on horseback
night and day, endeavoring to surprise the freebooters in their
retreats; and poor men had always easy access to him. But for want of
thoughtfulness and solid principles he was incessantly tossed to and
fro between the nobles and the priests, and whichever of these two was
the most adroit easily took the upper hand. He sinned much, but perhaps
he was still more ‘sinned against.’




                             CHAPTER XII.

  REGENCY OF THE EARL OF ARRAN.--IMPRISONMENT OF BEATOUN.--TREATY OF
                          PEACE WITH ENGLAND.

                          (1542-MARCH 1543.)


[Sidenote: GENERAL DEPRESSION.]

The political and religious events in the midst of which James V. had
been taken from Scotland were of so grave a character that the wisest
heads felt some alarm, and expected to see a storm break forth such as
no one had ever seen the like.[266] An unexpected blow, considering the
youthful years of the prince, had fallen on the nation. With eyes fixed
on the future, nobles and people talked together of their fears and the
faintness of their hopes.[267] In the Lowlands, in the heart of the
Highlands, at Edinburgh, at Glasgow, at Stirling, and in other towns
of Scotland, men with pale faces and a restless air were questioning
one another in distress of mind about the fate in reserve for their
country. The shameful defeat at Solway, which had given the king his
death-blow, had filled the people with mourning and dread. The most
illustrious lords of Scotland, taken prisoners by the English, had been
exposed to the gaze of the citizens of London. Those who still remained
in Scotland were divided by implacable hatred, and by religious views
diametrically opposed to each other; and it was anticipated that
dissensions long suppressed by the fear of the king would now burst
forth. The cardinal and the bishops, giving themselves up without
restraint to their passion for dominion, were going to take advantage
of the death of James to bring the people into subjection. Henry VIII.,
glorying in the unexpected victory which he had just won, did not fail,
now that his nephew was no more, to turn to account (and in what a
fashion!) his pretensions to Scotland. For maintaining order in the
country there was a queen eight days old. The next heir to the crown
after her, Hamilton, earl of Arran, was not fitted by his virtues, or
his intelligence, or his courage to rule the people. Many destructive
agencies were at work in Scotland; loud lamentations were heard. One
thing alone could save the country--the Gospel.

[Sidenote: ALLEGED WILL OF JAMES V.]

The king being dead, it appeared to Beatoun that the public troubles
offered him a favorable opportunity for becoming master, for securing
the triumph of the French party, for abolishing the Reformation, and
establishing the supremacy of the clergy. Since Scotland was abased,
he was to be exalted. It was needful to act quickly. The nobles who
were recently made prisoners, and those who had for a long time lived
in exile in England, were about to return. The cardinal knew well that
they detested his subservience to the pope, his ambition, and his
arrogance; and he had no doubt that they would vigorously oppose him.
The earl of Arran, next heir after Mary to the crown, was it is true
in Scotland, and seemed to be called to make head against him; but the
haughty cardinal made little account of that. The earl is unambitious,
said he; he has no energy, and all his wish is to have nothing to do.
Besides, Arran was his near relation, a son of one of his aunts.[268]
The king had scarcely breathed his last when the cardinal went boldly
to the queen-mother at Linlithgow, fortified with the document on
which he assumed to found his pretensions. ‘Welcome, my lord,’ said
the queen, who as yet knew nothing more than the serious illness of
her husband; ‘is not the king dead?’ Mary of Guise supposed that the
first prelate of the kingdom was come solely to announce to her the
sovereign’s death. But Beatoun had another end in view in this visit.
Without loss of time he produced the king’s testament containing the
nomination of a regency composed of the cardinal and the earls of
Argyle, Huntley, and Murray, the first-named to be president of the
council and guardian to the royal infant. This document was generally
considered to have been extorted from the dying king. Many persons
even believed that the cardinal’s agent had guided the hand of the
dead king, and obtained a signature in blank which the cardinal
had afterwards filled up at his own will. Buchanan states that the
cardinal, having gained over a certain priest named Balfour, had with
his assistance forged a false testament. Knox, Sadler, and Lesley
also speak in the same way.[269] At the market-cross at Edinburgh the
cardinal had proclamation made, on the Monday after the king’s death,
of the alleged deed which made him the first personage in the realm.

Many of the Scots were indignant at this proceeding, and said openly
that both the regency and the guardianship of the infant Mary belonged
to Hamilton, earl of Arran, who, as next heir to the crown through his
grandmother, the daughter of James II., would be king, it was said,
if the little princess should chance to die. Had not her two brothers
died in their infancy? The general hatred of the cardinal, and the
horror felt at the thought of living under the government of a priest,
impelled a large number of people to support the cause of Hamilton.
‘Occasion offers herself to you,’ they said to him; ‘do not let her
pass.’ The laird of Grange especially urged this noble to maintain his
rights. But Arran, for want of spirit, was ready to abandon them. It
was at last determined to call together the nobility of the realm, that
they might decide to whose hands the government should be intrusted
during the minority. The nobles met on the appointed day. The cardinal
and his partisans resisted with all their might the proposal to commit
the government of the realm to the earl of Arran. ‘The Hamiltons,’ said
they, ‘are cruel murderers, oppressors of innocents, proud, avaricious,
double and false, and finally, the pestilence in this commonwealth.’
Arran had, indeed, given himself up to the domination of dishonorable
men. However, he remained calm, and contemned these insults. ‘Call me
what you please,’ replied he, ‘but defraud me not of my right. Whatever
my friends have been, yet unto this day has no man cause to complain
upon me. Neither yet am I minded to flatter my friends in their evil
doing, but by God’s grace shall be forward to correct their enormities.
Therefore yet again, my lord, in God’s name I crave that ye do me no
wrong, nor defraud me of my just title before ye have experience of my
government.’ This appeal touched the hearers, and all cried out that
unless the fear of God and his righteousness were trampled under foot,
the claim of Arran could not be rejected. He was therefore proclaimed
governor of Scotland, in spite of Beatoun; and the king’s palace, his
treasures, his jewels, and other chattels of the crown were delivered
up to him by the officials who had charge of them. This took place on
January 10, a few days after the cardinal’s proclamation.

[Sidenote: ARRAN PROCLAIMED REGENT.]

Arran, it is true, was not distinguished for his virtues nor for his
intelligence, but he was very generally liked, as weak men often are.
‘The earl of Arran,’ wrote Lord Lisle to Henry VIII., ‘is himself a
good soft God’s man, and loveth well to look on the Scripture, but he
hath many that ruleth about him of his kin which be shrewd and evil
men.’[270] Never had any regent been received with so much liking and
hope, and this was the case especially because people were glad to be
delivered from the cardinal. It was thought that he would reform all
that went wrong in the church or state, and his first acts corresponded
with this hope.[271] That Arran should thus get possession of power
was astonishing, for he was as weak as Beatoun was strong, and the
weakest, they say, always goes to the wall. In this case the reverse
happened. But many people thought that the arrangement would be only
temporary. Arran was the earthen pot of the fable, Beatoun the iron
pot, and it was not difficult to foresee which of the two would break
the other. It was not long before Arran gave a proof of his too easy
temper. Instead of adopting measures for withdrawing the realm from
the influence of Beatoun, as soon as the latter claimed to be made
chancellor of Scotland, Arran committed that office to his hands, in
order to alleviate the disgrace to which the assembly of the nobles had
just subjected him.[272] The ambitious cardinal, however, did not long
keep that post of influence.

Many eminent and pious men supported the cause of the earl of Arran.
One of his first acts was to appoint as his chaplains, on the
recommendation of those supporters, two ministers who preached the
pure Gospel. A former Dominican, Thomas Guillaume (or Williams), who
had been very eminent in his order, having been converted by the Word
of God, had thrown off his cowl. He was called to preach at Edinburgh.
The soundness of his judgment, the purity of his doctrine, the force
of his eloquence, and the clearness of his exposition of Scripture,
together with a certain moderation in controversy, attracted a crowd
to his preaching. The regent associated with him another evangelical
minister, John Rough. He had entered a convent at seventeen years of
age, had twice visited Rome, and having been painfully shocked by what
he had seen there, he had embraced the Reformation. Less of a scholar
than Guillaume, he was more simple-minded, and more ardent against
superstition and impiety, and against the authority of the pope. Arran,
urged on by his evangelical friends, sent his faithful ministers into
various parts of the kingdom. Among their numerous hearers was Knox,
and it was while listening to Guillaume that the great reformer began
to be acquainted with the beauty of evangelical truth.[273]

But while those who had their hearts opened to the truth received with
joy the words of the two chaplains, the monks, the priests, and all
the friends of the papacy attacked them vehemently. ‘Heresy! heresy!’
cried a Franciscan named Scot; ‘Guillaume and Rough will carry the
governor unto the devil.’ And all the monks and sacristans took up
the cry, ‘Heresy!’ A man named Watson, of the household of the bishop
of Dunkeld, composed a satirical ballad against the chaplains and the
regent which had a great vogue. The cardinal on his part was moving
heaven and earth, and worried Arran to silence the two preachers. ‘All
these men,’ says Knox, ‘roupit [croaked] as they had been ravens, yea
rather they yelled and roared as devils in hell.’ For the moment, these
cries were futile. The divine Word prevailed.

[Sidenote: PROPOSAL OF HENRY VIII.]

While these things were passing in Scotland, Henry VIII. was fully
occupied in England. The death of James had startled him, and his
first thought had been that the succession must fall to him. He would
unite the two kingdoms, and it would be an immense advantage to Great
Britain to be all under one government, and that his own. To this end a
marriage should be concluded between his son Edward, aged five years,
and the young Queen of Scotland, aged a few days. He lost no time
in sending for the most notable of the Scottish captives to Hampton
Court palace, where he was then residing. The earls of Cassilis and
Glencairn, and the Lords Maxwell, Fleming, and Grey, men who only a
few days before had been made a spectacle to the populace of London,
appeared before him. He stated to them his project. ‘God,’ said he,
‘now offers you a most favorable occasion for establishing agreement
and peace in Great Britain. Let a contract be concluded between your
queen and my son. I offer to set you at liberty if you will pledge
yourselves to do all you can to get the consent of the regent and of
the other nobles of Scotland to this marriage.’ The project highly
pleased the lords, for they saw in it a certain means of obtaining not
only liberty for themselves, but a lasting peace for their country.
Agreement was made that the Queen Mary should marry the prince Edward
when she was ten years old. After this conference the noble prisoners
set out, December 29, on their way to Scotland, to secure the success
of their scheme.

Henry, however, did not yet feel himself secure, and he wanted to have
the young queen in his own hands and some others with her. He had no
confidence in Scotland, knowing how easily she might tack about: and he
was afraid of the cardinal’s cleverness. Consequently, on January 9 he
wrote to viscount Lisle, then lord warden of the military frontiers of
England. ‘It is essential,’ said he, ‘to get the child, the person of
the cardinal, and of such as be chief lettes of our purpose, and also
of the chief holds and fortresses into our hands.’[274] Henry’s fears
were not without foundation. At the moment of James’s death everyone
foreboded a war with the powerful King of England. But the Scottish
lords whom Henry had set at liberty arrived on January 24. They were
accompanied by the earl of Angus and his brother, Sir George Douglas,
who had long endured the life of exiles in England. These lords
hastened to fulfil the commission of Henry VIII. On their admission to
the council, of which the regent was president, they laid before it the
proposal of marriage between the heirs of the two crowns. The earl of
Arran and the great majority of the members of the council appeared to
be favorable to it; but the cardinal, supported by the queen-mother,
strenuously opposed it. In their judgment nothing was more dangerous
for Scotland, nothing could be more offensive to France and to Rome.
Now Mary of Guise and Beatoun were the representatives of these powers.
The more chance there seemed to be of the adoption of the proposal
by the council, the more Beatoun struggled and the more vehement the
resistance he offered to it. He incessantly interrupted the debate: he
put questions to other members: he thus hindered them from speaking
and made the taking of votes altogether impossible.[275] The majority
of the council revolted against conduct so unparliamentary, which did
not allow them the free exercise of their right. The other members, and
especially the Scots who were just come from England, were indignant.
The latter conceived a bold design which did not occur to anyone else.
They would turn the cardinal’s insolence to account in getting him
wholly set aside. It was proposed that Beatoun should be excluded
from the assembly and confined in an apartment of the palace until
the votes had been collected. This plan was at once voted and carried
out.[276] What a blow for this proud priest! He, primate, cardinal,
legate of Rome, the most important personage of the realm, as he
thought, to find himself excluded from the council and treated as a
prisoner! He was not even to regain his liberty very soon. Never,
perhaps, had any assembly struck so unlooked for a blow. The Scottish
lords had arrived January 24, and the discussion and exclusion of the
cardinal certainly took place on the 25th or 26th. The prelate was
removed to the prison at Dalkeith.[277] The earls of Huntley, Murray,
and Bothwell demanded his liberation and offered themselves as his
bail, but they did not succeed in obtaining it. The voting resulted in
a resolution in favor of the marriage and of the union with England; it
only remained for parliament to confirm it.

[Sidenote: RESULTS OF BEATOUN’S ARREST.]

The Scottish lords who had returned from England, above all the earl
of Angus and his brother, had learnt during their sojourn in London
not to spare the cardinals and other Romish dignitaries. The stormy
presumption of the cardinal in the council had been the occasion of
the measure adopted against him; but these lords perfectly understood
that unless the cardinal were kept in confinement there could be no
religious nor even civil liberty in the land. ‘It is not possible,’
says Calvin, ‘to deprive an able and powerful tyrant of his supremacy
except by first taking away his arms and bringing against him a
force superior to his own. He will never quit his post of his own
accord.’[278] Sir George Douglas, brother of Angus, went to Berwick
where Lord Lisle was stationed, and pointed out to him that in sending
the cardinal to prison they had given him certain proof of their
activity. Lisle immediately reported it to the Duke of Suffolk,
brother-in-law of Henry VIII.[279] All the friends of the Gospel, and
even the Scottish political party, looked on that measure as a great
deliverance. Beatoun, however, was not surrendered to Henry VIII., as
he had required him to be.

It is hardly possible to imagine the effect produced in Scotland by
this bold deed. The bishops and the priests as soon as they heard of
the extraordinary proceeding were beside themselves. All the clergy,
struck with horror, at once adopted the same course as they would have
done if Scotland were laid under an interdict by the pope. The churches
were closed, religious services were suspended, and the priests refused
to discharge any of their functions. One might have conjectured that
some appalling crime had been committed, and that the whole nation was
excommunicated. A funereal veil hung over Scotland. The Romish clergy
accused those who had laid hands on the cardinal not only of injustice
but of sacrilege. The people, submissive in some places to the bidding
of their priests, and even many lords, cried out with the others.
Argyle left Edinburgh, retired to his estates, and assembled his clan.
Lord Lisle wrote to London, February 1, ‘Since the cardinal was seized,
no one in Scotland can get a priest to sing masse, to christen or
bury.’[280]

[Sidenote: PARLIAMENT AT EDINBURGH.]

The Scottish Parliament was to open at Easter, and the moment
was approaching. Instead of one there would be (so to speak) two
parliaments. The party of the opposition, the earls of Huntley, Argyle,
Murray, and Bothwell, a very great number of barons, knights, bishops,
and abbots, met at Perth a week before the day of convocation, and
having drawn up certain articles, they sent them to the regent and his
council by the hands of the bishop of Orkney and Sir John Campbell,
uncle to the earl of Argyle. Let the cardinal, they said, be set at
liberty; let the New Testament be interdicted; let the regent confer
with us on all affairs of the realm, and let other ambassadors be
sent to the King of England, charged with a quite different mission
from that which has been determined on. The regent by the advice of
his council declined to accede to ‘demands so unreasonable.’ The next
step, immediately taken, was to send a herald-at-arms to Perth, to
summon the lords who were there to Edinburgh, under penalty of treason,
to discharge their duties. This citation took effect. The earl of
Murray, the bishops, and abbots arrived on the eve of the opening of
parliament. The other lords presented themselves later. Argyle alone
remained on his estates. His two uncles, however, offered excuse for
him, on the ground of ill health.[281]

Parliament opened on Monday, March 12. The assembly was numerous,
for the gravity of the occasion was universally understood. ‘This
parliament,’ said the earl of Angus, ‘is the most _substantial_ that
was ever seen in Scotland; the three estates are present in great
force, and the multitude of on-lookers is so great that no more
could find lodging in the two towns of Edinburgh and Leith.’ The
first resolution of this important assembly approved the marriage of
prince Edward and the little Queen Mary, and empowered ambassadors to
negotiate it with England.[282] The second resolution (Tuesday) was the
confirmation of the earl of Arran in the office of regent. On Wednesday
the earl of Angus and his brother were reinstated in the honors and the
estates of which they had been deprived during their fifteen years’
exile. On Thursday the most important of all the resolutions of this
body was to be presented and debated.

Lord Maxwell, whom the folly of James V. had deprived of the command in
the affair at Solway, was generally known as ‘a man of good intentions
with respect to the Word of God.’ He had not openly professed the
evangelical doctrine so long as the cardinal was in possession of the
supreme power; but his sojourn in England, though short, had induced
him to take a more decisive course. He rose and introduced a bill
providing ‘that all the subjects of the kingdom might read the Holy
Scriptures in their mother-tongue.’ The debate began immediately.
Dunbar, archbishop of Glasgow, who since the imprisonment of the
cardinal had become chancellor of the realm, declared that he would
oppose the motion in his own name and in the name of all the prelates,
at least until the period when a provincial council of all the clergy
of Scotland should have decided the question. ‘Wherefore,’ answered
the friends of the Scriptures, ‘should it not be lawful to men that
understood no Latin, to use this word of their salvation in the tongue
they understand, as it was for Latin men to have it in Latin, Grecians
and Hebrews to have it in their tongues.’ ‘The kirk,’ replied the
priests, ‘had forbidden all kind of tongues but these three.’ ‘When was
that inhibition given?’ retorted the friends of the Gospel. ‘Christ
has commanded his word to be preached to all nations. Now if it ought
to be preached to all nations, it must be preached in the tongue they
understand. Now if it be lawful to preach it in all tongues, why shall
it not be lawful to read it and to hear it read in all tongues? To the
end that the people may try the spirits according to the commandment of
the apostle.’[283]

[Sidenote: FREEDOM TO READ THE BIBLE.]

The prelates finding themselves beaten admitted that the Holy
Scripture might indeed be read in the vulgar tongue, provided that the
translation were true. Some of the members of the assembly then handed
to the priests some copies of the Holy Scriptures which they drew from
their pockets, and begged them to point out any faults they could find
in them. The prelates, in great embarrassment, began to make search,
turned over the leaves of the book, opening it at the beginning, at the
end, and in all parts, taking infinite pains to find some mistake. But
nothing could be found. At last, ‘Here,’ said one of them, ‘here is
a passage to be reprehended; love is put in the place of _charity_.’
‘What difference is there,’ it was replied, ‘betwixt the one and the
other? It seems you do not understand the Greek term ἀγάπη.’ Before the
Greek word the priests stood dumb.[284]

The deputies of the burgesses and a part of the nobles then required
that the reading asked for should be permitted; as well as the reading
of Christian treatises, until such time as the clergy should give a
better translation of the Bible. The prelates still stood out; but at
length, reduced to silence, they submitted, and it was enacted by Act
of Parliament that ‘all men and women should be free to read the Holy
Scriptures in their own tongue or in the English tongue, and that all
acts passed to the contrary should be abolished.’ This bill, which
passed on March 15, was promulgated on the 19th, and sent into all
parts of the kingdom by order of the regent. The priests immediately
began to cry out with one voice against him as the promoter of
heresy.[285]

This was the first public Act passed in Scotland in favor of religious
liberty. The victory, says Knox, which Christ Jesus then won over
the enemies of his truth was of no little importance. The trumpet of
the Gospel gave at once a certain sound, from Wigton to Inverness,
from south to north. No small comfort was given to the souls, to the
families, who till then durst not read the Lord’s Prayer or the Ten
Commandments in English through fear of being accused of heresy. The
Bible, which had long lain hidden in some out-of-the-way corner, was
now openly placed on the tables of pious and well-informed men. The
New Testament was indeed already widely circulated, but many of those
who possessed it had shown themselves unworthy of it, never having read
ten sentences in it through fear of men.

Now they brought out their New Testaments, and ‘they would chop their
familiars on the cheek with it.’[286] ‘Here,’ said they, ‘this book has
lain hid under my bed feet these ten years.’ Others, on the contrary,
exclaimed with joy, ‘Oh, how often have I been in danger for this
book! how secretly have I stolen away from my wife at midnight to read
upon it in that lonely silent hour!’ Some, who were minded to turn
everything to account, made a great parade of their joy, on purpose
to pay court to the regent, who was then esteemed the most fervent
Protestant in all Europe. ‘But in general,’ add the historians, ‘the
knowledge of God was wonderfully increased by the perusal of the sacred
writings, and the Holy Spirit was given in great abundance to simple
men.’ Many works were also published at the same time in Scotland,
which were intended to disclose the abuses of the Romish Church, and
others of the same character were brought from England. That important
Act of the Scottish parliament was never repealed.

[Sidenote: MISSION OF SIR R. SADLER.]

While these wholesome measures were being adopted, the alliance of the
country with England appeared to be growing stronger; and even if a
purely evangelical reformation was not to be looked for, the ties which
bound Scotland to Rome must certainly be broken. On Sunday afternoon,
March 18, the day after the closing of the session of parliament,
arrived Sir Ralph Sadler, an envoy from Henry VIII. He betook himself
that very evening to Holyrood, and there learnt from the regent the
resolutions which had just been taken. Sadler was charged with the duty
of concluding the marriage contract between Edward and Mary, as well as
the project of a perpetual alliance between the two countries.[287]
Sadler, who acted in the business with his utmost energy, soon found
that the Scots were not prepared to go to the same length as his
master. ‘In my opinion,’ he wrote (March 27), ‘they had lever suffer
extremity than come to the obedience and subjection of England: they
will have their realm free and live within themselves after their own
laws and customs.... I think assuredly all the nobles and the whole
temporality of this realm desire the marriage and to join with us
in perfect friendship: in which case I think also they will utterly
abandon France.’ This was not what Henry was aiming at. After the death
of the young princess, the Tudors, in his view, were to inherit her
kingdom.

The alliance, nevertheless, was concluded. On July 1 the earl of
Glencairn, Sir George Douglas, Learmont, and Balnaves, the Scottish
envoys, signed at Greenwich the treaty of marriage and of peace. This
treaty was solemnly read, August 25, in Holyrood abbey, and was there
signed, sealed, and approved by the regent and the nobles. The queen
was to remain in Scotland until she should be ten years old, and then
be taken into England to be educated. Three Scottish lords should be
given as hostages to Henry; and in confirmation of the alliance a
consecrated wafer, according to a Romish usage, was broken between
the regent and Sir R. Sadler, the representative of Henry VIII. Each
of them received and ate half of it, in token of their unity and as a
pledge of their fidelity,--a strange method of cementing an alliance
which had for its end the destruction of Romish superstitions. The
treaty was published everywhere as a basis of perpetual agreement; but
the union of the two nations had still many a storm to encounter.




                             CHAPTER XIII.

      BEATOUN IS LIBERATED AND RECOVERS HIS POWER.--BREACH OF THE
                      TREATY.--FRESH PERSECUTION.

                    (MARCH, 1543.-SUMMER OF 1544.)


At present everything was getting on well in Scotland, and the
continuance of this well-being was all that was desired. The severest
eye could find nothing to censure in the court of the regent; and he
acted with so much moderation in the government that not a single
complaint was heard of his administration. Arran was as much respected
and obeyed as any king could have been. All men were promising
themselves a quiet life, when a sudden gust upset everything.

There was one party which was full of wrath at the recent changes.
The alliance of Scotland with England, the imprisonment of the
cardinal, the regency of Arran, the freedom conferred on the Holy
Scriptures,--all these things filled the friends of the papacy with
excitement and horror, whether at Rome, in France, or in Scotland. The
earl of Lennox had arrived from Paris for the purpose of giving his
support to the French party in Scotland; and he flattered himself that
he should be appointed regent, and even that he should marry the queen
dowager. The pope had sent the legate Marco Grimani into Scotland, with
orders to join the cardinal, the earl of Lennox, and all the other
adversaries of Arran; to fulminate anathemas, and to use all other
means which he could devise for effecting the fall of the regent and
the elevation of the cardinal.[288] Grimani and Lennox expected to
find the material all ready, so that it would be an easy task for them
to set fire to it. They were not entirely mistaken. The ultramontanes
of Scotland were in a rage with the regent and with the lords who were
on his side.[289] Their scheme was to liberate the cardinal, who should
then go with his adherents to Linlithgow, get possession of the young
queen and depose the regent.

[Sidenote: THE ABBOT OF PAISLEY.]

Lennox and Grimani had not come from the continent alone. Two Scottish
priests, who had lived for a long time in France and had there become
imbued with Roman Catholicism of the deepest dye, landed in Scotland
in the month of April. These men were likely to do, perhaps, more than
all others towards the restoration of ultramontanism. They were John
Hamilton, abbot of Paisley, a natural brother of the regent, and Master
David Panter,[290] who was afterwards bishop of Ross. Their learning,
their lowliness, and their religion were much talked of, and people
thought that their coming would prove a great comfort to the Church of
God.[291] ‘They will soon,’ it was said, ‘go into the pulpit and truly
preach Jesus Christ.’

The abbot of Paisley was admitted to intimacy with the regent. He
might converse with him at any time, and he undertook to break down
bit by bit the evangelical views of Arran and to sunder his connexion
with England. First of all, it was necessary to get rid of the two
evangelical chaplains. The two priests therefore began, immediately
after their arrival, to disparage the preaching of Williams and Rough.
The abbot of Paisley had always some fault to find. ‘Their sermons,’
said he to his brother, ‘are heretical and scandalous.’ The latter,
naturally weakminded, let himself be caught. Williams was ordered to
put an end to his preaching, and he set out for England. Rough was
sent to preach in Kyle, where for some time there had been lovers of
the Bible. This was not enough. The men of sound judgment and genuine
piety who were about the regent, and who had contributed to the general
prosperity and peace, must also be removed out of the way. What
terrors, what promises, ‘what boxes full of enchantments,’ says Knox,
these two priests had brought with them from France, no one could tell.
Be it as it may, some were got rid of by crafty expedients, others by
false insinuations. ‘If you remain, your life is at stake,’ they said
to them. At the same time the partisans of the clergy, who had till
then held themselves aloof from the court, winged their way thither
like ravens to the carrion.[292]

One day when there was a great gathering at Holyrood, and the regent
saw around him at the same moment both the faithful attendants who
had deserved well of their country and the fanatical supporters of
the cardinal, one of the latter cried out in a voice loud enough for
Arran and all present to hear him, ‘My lord governor and his friends
will never be at ease nor quietness till that a dozen of these knaves
that abuse his grace be hanged.’[293] After that, people saw the men
whose labors had been so useful to Scotland,--Durham, Borthwick,
Bothwell, the laird of Grange, Balnaves, Ballanden[294] and Sir David
Lyndsay,--withdraw from the court, while he who had threatened them
with the gallows received a pension for his insolent speech.

The liberation of the cardinal could be no longer deferred. He was
imprisoned at Dalkeith on January 26, was removed thence to Seaton,
next to Blackness castle on the Forth, and finally to St. Andrews, the
seat of his archbishopric. There he was set at liberty at the request,
especially, of the queen-mother, who had never ceased her intercession
for him.[295] Once free, this arrogant man, exasperated by the affront
which had been offered him, thought only of recovering his own power
and of reëstablishing the cause of the papacy.

[Sidenote: INTRIGUES OF BEATOUN.]

He now had frequent communication with Mary of Guise, and shared her
indignation at the favors granted to the Scottish nobles just returned
from England, who had passed from exile to the most influential
positions. They resolved to do their utmost to reëstablish the alliance
with Francis I. and the pope. The cardinal completely won over the earl
of Bothwell, and the Lords Home, Buccleugh, and others. He induced
such of them as were on the frontier to make inroads on the English
territory. He assembled at St. Andrews, on July 6, the earls of Lennox,
Argyle, Huntley, and Bothwell, Lord Home, and the other noblemen and
gentlemen who were favorable to the pope; and at this conference they
determined to oppose the regent, who instead of executing their designs
was only bent on promoting heretical opinions.[296]

Meanwhile Beatoun found opportunities for secret interviews with
the regent’s brother, who had everything in his own hands; for this
bastard was as remarkable for force of character as his legitimate
brother was for the want of it. The cardinal did not confine himself to
intrigues in high places, but he had it at heart to win the multitude,
and he tried all imaginable schemes in order to succeed.[297] When
he thought that he had at last secured his position, both above and
below, he convoked the clergy at St. Andrews. The bishop, abbot, and
primate unfolded before this assembly all the dangers which were then
impending over Scotland. ‘In order to avert them,’ said he, ‘contribute
generously from your purses, and urge all your friends to do the same.
Tell them that their property and their lives are at stake. Nay, more
than that,’ he exclaimed, ‘our task is to prevent the ruin which
is threatening the universal church of the pope.’[298] The clergy
declared that they would place all their resources at his disposal, and
determined to set on foot a general subscription. ‘The cardinal,’ wrote
the ambassador Sadler to Lord Parr, brother of the Queen of England,
‘the cardinal here hath not only stirred almost this whole realm
against the governor, but also hath procured the earl Bothwell [and
others] to stir all the mischief and trouble they can on the Borders,
and to make roads and incursions into England, only of intent to break
the peace and to breed contention and breach between both realms.’[299]
At the same time the monks were preaching passionately against the
union with England; and the population, excited by them, was in
agitation and ready to revolt, threatening those who were opposed to
the Church of Rome, and even insulting the English ambassador. Jesters
used to assail both him and his suite with insolent speeches. But the
envoy of Henry VIII., knowing that the one matter of moment for his
master was to succeed, took these indignities patiently, through fear
of hastening a rupture.

[Sidenote: THE HOSTAGES REFUSED.]

As Scotland was under obligation to give hostages to England as
security for the execution of the treaties, the cardinal set himself
strenuously against the measure, not only with those of his own
faction, but also with those of the other side. He was prodigal of
promises to the relations and the friends of the intended hostages,
in the hope of inducing them to oppose their delivery to England. The
same influences were brought to bear on the regent. On the day fixed
for giving up the lords to the English ambassador, the latter went
to the regent, and after making complaint of the insults to which
he was exposed, demanded the hostages. The regent promised that the
perpetrators of the outrages of which Sadler complained should be
punished. ‘As for the hostages,’ he added, ‘the authority with which I
am invested is of such a nature that, while I have rights as against
the queen’s subjects, they also have their rights as against me. You
are yourself a witness of the immense agitation stirred up by the
cardinal.[300] All my plans are upset, and, carried away by the force
of popular passion, I can no longer answer for anything.’[301] Arran
was indeed wanting in the strength to stand against such a storm as
was conjured up by the cardinal. Weakminded himself, he bent before
the violence of those who had powerful convictions. Sadler, indignant
at his refusal, called upon the Scots who had been captives in England
to return to their confinement, as they had pledged themselves to do
in case the treaty should be violated. Kennedy, earl of Cassilis, was
the only one who kept his word. He set out for London, in spite of the
pressing entreaties of his own circle.[302] Henry, touched by this
act of good faith, generously sent him back to Scotland with his two
brothers who had remained as hostages.

The clerical reaction was steadily gathering fresh force. In pursuance
of the colloquy of July 6, the nobles hostile to the regent assembled
some troops; and on July 21 they arrived, at the head of ten thousand
men, at Leith, the port of Edinburgh. At the same moment Arran, the
earl of Angus, Lord Maxwell, and their friends were at Edinburgh, at
the head of their armed force. There was equal animation on both sides.
They might have been likened to two electric clouds, whose lightning
was ready to burst forth with violence. However, the two opposed bodies
of troops remained motionless for five or six days. ‘What will be the
end of this,’ wrote Sadler to Lord Parr, ‘I cannot tell; but my opinion
is that they will not fight for all their bragges.’[303] In fact, they
did not fight.

[Sidenote: IRRESOLUTION OF ARRAN.]

The two queens were at Linlithgow palace, in which the young Mary was
born. The regent and the cardinal each gave out that the queens were
on his side, but all the sympathies of the queen-mother were with the
cardinal. The latter, accompanied by the earls of Argyle, Huntley,
and Bothwell, and by many bishops, went to Linlithgow. Supposing that
the princesses were not safe there, he persuaded them to go with him
to Stirling, which they did. These lords talked without reserve among
themselves, and with the queen, of deposing the regent, on the ground
of disobedience to their holy mother the Church. This greatly alarmed
Arran, who at that same time was persecuted by the abbot of Paisley,
his natural brother. ‘Consider,’ said the latter, ‘the danger to
which you expose yourself by allowing the authority of the pope to be
impaired. It is the authority on which your own rests.’ As Arran was in
dread of the anger of Henry VIII., the abbot exalted to the utmost the
power of the King of France, and the great advantages of an alliance
with him. But above everything else he insisted on the obligation of
making peace with the Church, ‘out of whose pale,’ he repeated, ‘there
is no salvation.’ The poor regent, weak, inconstant, and not at all
grounded in the faith of the Gospel, halted between the wish to follow
the advice of his brother and the shame involved in abandoning his
party and giving the precedence to the cardinal. He wavered between
the pope and the Gospel, between France and England. His irresolution
was torture to him; he endured bitter pangs. The abbot never wearied
of repeating the question, ‘What will ye do? will you then destroy
yourself and your house for ever?’[304] He hesitated no longer. Beaten
on all sides by contending waves; conscious that his forces were
inferior to those of his adversaries; hemmed in by the snares of the
cardinal, who chose rather to gain him by terror than to subdue him
by arms; abandoned by many of the nobles; no longer in favor with the
people, who were offended by his weakness; lowered in the esteem of
his own friends, and disgraced in the eyes of the English, the unhappy
man at last took the fatal leap. Nine days after the ratification of
the alliance with England, and only six days after he had published
a proclamation against the cardinal, Arran secretly stole away from
Holyrood palace, betook himself to Stirling on September 3, and threw
himself into the arms of his cousin Beatoun.

This was not all. He was resolved also to throw himself into the arms
of the pope; desirous only of doing so without too much ostentation,
and fancying, says Buchanan, that he could thus lessen the infamy of
this base deed. For this purpose the convent of the Franciscans was
chosen.[305] The queen-mother attended. For a Guise the scene was one
of exquisite enjoyment such as Mary would not willingly lose. Some of
the courtiers who were devoted to Rome were also present. There, in the
dim light of the chapel, that weak man, to whom people had been looking
for the triumph of the Reformation in Scotland, fondly fancying that
he was performing a secret action, knelt down before the altar, humbly
confessed his errors, trampled under foot the oaths which he had taken
to his own country and to England, renounced the evangelical profession
of Jesus Christ, submitted to the pope, and received absolution of
the cardinal.[306] The spectators exulted in Arran’s humiliation. The
wretched man continued indeed to be regent in name, but from that hour
he possessed nothing more than the phantom of authority, having for his
own governor the lord cardinal. He therefore fell into contempt, and
those even for whom he had sacrificed everything had no respect for
him. ‘He who will save his life shall lose it.’

The report of his perjury spread rapidly abroad. Few were surprised
to hear it, but a great many were angry. The English ambassador wrote
to him as follows: ‘Forasmuch as I do hear sundry reports of your
sudden departure to Stirling, which if they were true in part ... might
highly touch your honor: ... I cannot well satisfy myself without
the address of these my letters unto your lordship, only to require
of your goodness to signify unto me how you do remain towards the
king’s majesty and the accomplishment of your oath and promise afore
expressed. I beseech your lordship to let me know the truth by your
own advertisement, to the intent that I may undelayedly write the same
to the king’s majesty before he shall receive any sinister or wrong
informations in that behalf, which might percase alter his highness’
affection and good opinion conceived towards you. Whereof for my part I
would be right loath.’[307]

[Sidenote: CORONATION OF MARY STUART.]

Another ceremony followed that of the abjuration. It was the coronation
of the little queen, which took place on September 9, with great
pomp. The alliance between Scotland and France was renewed, and fresh
promises were made to Francis I. The cardinal thus brilliantly opened
his reign, and by placing the crown on the head of a little girl, he
said to himself that at least he had no need to fear that the child
would take it into her head to thwart his schemes.[308]

Henry VIII. was in consternation. The abjuration of the regent and the
political revolution which accompanied it upset his most cherished
plans. But the ratification of the treaty with him was so recent
that the question might be raised whether the whole of this Stirling
business was anything more than a transient mistake, the fruit of
Arran’s weakness. He therefore enjoined his ambassador to use his
utmost endeavors to recall the regent to his first intentions. It
appeared to Henry impossible that Arran should act in a manner so
foolish, so dishonorable, so cruel, so pitiless for Scotland, as not
only to throw away all the advantages offered to himself, but still
more to give up his country to fire and sword and to all the calamities
of a terrible war. All these considerations urged by Sadler were
fruitless. At length, indignant at the perjury and the insult, Henry
recalled his ambassador, declared war on Scotland, ordered the seizure
of the numerous Scottish ships which lay in his ports, threw into
prison the seamen and the merchants, and sent a herald to announce to
the Scots ‘that they had covenanted with a prince of honor that would
not suffer their disloyalty unpunished and unrevenged, whose power and
puissance, by God’s grace, is and shall be sufficient against them to
make them know and feel their own faults and offences. Fear,’ said he,
‘the hand of God over you.’ It was war, war with all its horrors of
fire and sword, that Henry in his wrath had determined to wage with
Scotland. ‘You shall beat down and overthrow the castle of Edinburgh,
burn and sack the capital, with Holyrood and Leith and the villages
around, putting man, woman, and child to the sword without exception.
To overthrow St. Andrews so as the upper stone may be the nether, and
not one stick stand by another.’[309] The wrath of Henry was terrible;
but nothing could alarm the presumptuous cardinal. When he heard of the
imprisonment of the Scottish merchants and seamen, he smiled and said
jestingly, ‘When we have conquered England we will make compensation to
the merchants.’

[Sidenote: THE EARL OF LENNOX.]

When the cardinal came out of prison, his eyes had fallen on two men
who stood in his way. One of these was the regent, and he had got rid
of him by becoming his master. The other was the earl of Lennox, a man
formidable by his rank and his pretensions, who had even supposed it
possible that he might marry the queen-mother. But Mary of Guise, like
all her kindred, was a fanatical devotee of Rome, and at the instance
of the cardinal she prayed the King of France to recall Lennox on any
specious pretext, adding that his residence in Scotland might lead to
a disturbance of peace. Lennox saw that they were trifling with him.
He was quite as versatile as Arran but more capable, and seeing that
he had lost the favor of France, he offered his services to the King
of England, who eagerly accepted them. Lennox was then looked upon as
the head of Scottish Protestantism. The two foremost lords of Scotland
had performed a feat of what is vulgarly called _chassé-croisée_. The
leader of the Protestants had become a papist, and the man of the
court of Francis I. had turned Protestant. Instead of the daughter of
the Guises, he married Lady Margaret Douglas, a niece of Henry VIII.
That is how men of the world manage matters. Evangelical religion
had not lost much in losing Arran. Neither had it gained more by
acquiring Lennox. These men were only moved by political interests, and
Scottish Protestantism more than any other was to reject these shameful
combinations of Christ and Baal, and was to have one king alone, Jesus
Christ.

The cardinal, victorious along the whole line, set himself immediately
to the work which he had most at heart,--to crush the Reformation. The
law which authorized the reading of Holy Scripture had borne its fruit,
and ‘in sundry parts of Scotland,’ says the chronicler, ‘thereby were
opened the eyes of the elect of God to see the truth and abhor the
papistical abominations.’[310] This abhorrence might possibly drive
them to deplorable excesses, an instance of which we are soon to see.

There were at Perth, on the left bank of the pleasant river Tay, some
friends of the Reformation. Endowed for the most part with genuine
piety, they held meetings, read the Holy Scriptures together, searched
out their meaning, and gave or listened to the exposition of them.[311]

They had also at times simple social meals together. Certain priests
of the town, with whom they were connected, and whose character
they esteemed without sharing their opinions, were invited to these
gatherings. The churchmen ate, drank, and talked with them, and thought
themselves fortunate to be invited to these honest men’s houses.[312]
This circumstance shows a large-heartedness among these Christian folk
of Perth, which could see and appreciate whatever good qualities their
adversaries possessed. They did not, however, tie themselves down
to the Roman rules about meat-days and fish-days, rules from which
exemption may be had for a little money: and one Friday it happened
that a goose appeared on their table.

Three of these people, Robert Lamb, William Anderson, and James
Raveleson, daring characters and given to raillery, were among those
who were taken up with Reform on its negative side. They were disgusted
at the abuses of the monastic life, and the Franciscans most of all
offended them. The sight of one of these mendicant friars in the
street, with his brown frock, his girdle of cord, his cowl, and his
bare feet, excited in them the keenest aversion. ‘These monks,’ as has
been said by a very distinguished Catholic priest, ‘feign chastity, but
they know what voluptuousness is, and they often outdo men of the world
in luxurious indulgence.’[313] And yet these monks pretend that all
that is needed for salvation is to put on a frock of their order at the
moment of death. In the judgment of Anderson and of his two friends,
the founder of that order, who was nevertheless a better man than
most of his successors, must have been the devil himself. They took
therefore an image of Francis of Assisi, nailed rams’ horns on the head
and hung a cow’s tail behind, and having thus given to it the semblance
of a demon, they hung it. The Scots are not jesters by nature. They are
on the contrary earnest and energetic towards those whom they oppose;
and this blameworthy execution was carried out by these three men with
imperturbable gravity.[314]

[Sidenote: RAVELESON AND LAMB.]

Among these reformed Christians of Perth there were some manifestations
of opinion characterized by simplicity and decision, which however
occasionally took a strange shape. One of the women who frequented the
evangelical meetings, Hellen Stirke, was near her confinement, and in
her hour of travail, when surrounded by female friends and neighbors,
all of them fervent worshippers of the Virgin Mary, she called upon
God and upon God alone in the name of Jesus Christ. The women said
to her--‘You ought to call upon the Virgin. Is not Mary immaculate
as Christ is, and even above him as first source of redemption? Is
she not the queen of heaven, the head of the church?’ The Franciscan
friars were continually impressing on the minds of these good women
the notion that no one could obtain a blessing from God ‘except by the
dispensation of his pious mother.’[315] Hellen revered Mary as a holy
and blessed woman, but she held her to be of the same nature as other
women, and she told her neighbors so. It was of his mercy, as Mary
herself said, that God had looked upon the low estate of his servant.
That her friends might better understand her meaning, she boldly added,
‘If I had lived in the days of the Virgin, God might have looked
likewise to my humility and base estate, as he did to the Virgin’s,
and might have made me the mother of Christ.’[316] The women about her
could not believe their own ears, and her words, reported in the town
by her neighbors, were counted execrable in the judgment of the clergy
and of the multitude.

If St. Francis was Anderson’s nightmare, the pope was Raveleson’s.
But the latter gave expression to his sentiments in a less insulting
fashion. When he had built a house of four stories, he placed at the
top of his staircase, by way of ornament, over the last baluster and
the supporting tablet which masked it, the triple diadem of the pope,
carved in wood. This was not a very criminal act: a good papist might
have done the like. But Raveleson, doubtless, meant to show thereby
that in his house the pope was consigned to the top story. Be that as
it may, he paid dear for it.

These Protestants of Perth were certainly originals, of which not many
copies were to be found. There were some of them, however, who were
free from these eccentricities while displaying no less courage. On one
occasion, when a monk named Spence very loudly asserted in the church
that ‘prayer made to saints is so necessary that without it there could
be no hope of salvation to man,’ Robert Lamb rose and accused him
before the whole assembly of teaching false doctrines. ‘In the name of
God,’ said he, ‘I adjure you to speak the truth.’ The friar, stricken
with fear, promised to do so; but there was so much excitement and
tumult in the church that the monk could not make himself heard, and
Robert, at the peril of his life, barely escaped the violence of the
people. The women, above all, uttered piercing screams, and urged on
the multitude to the most cruel actions.[317]

[Sidenote: THE PERTH PROTESTANTS.]

The cardinal, in January, 1544, seeing that his authority was firmly
established, thought that the time was come for suppressing the
Reformation and glorifying the pope. Having heard of what was going on
at Perth, he set out for that place, taking with him the regent, some
of the chief lords, bishops, and judges. When he reached Perth on St.
Paul’s day, January 19, he ordered the seizure of Robert Lamb, William
Anderson, James Hunter, James Raveleson, James Finlason, and Hellen
Stirke his wife,[318] and had them imprisoned the same evening in the
Spay Tower.

On the following morning the prisoners appeared before their judge.
They were accused on several grounds, and particularly of having met
together to hear the Holy Scriptures read. A special charge was made
against Lamb of having interrupted a friar. ‘It is the duty of no
man,’ he answered, ‘who understands and knows the truth to hear the
same impugned without contradiction. There are sundry here present in
judgment who, while they know what is true, are consenting to what is
false; but they will have to bear the burden in God’s presence.’[319]
The six prisoners were condemned to death, and were cruelly treated.
Many of the inhabitants of Perth were deeply interested in their case,
and appealed to the regent to save their lives. But when Arran spoke
a word to the cardinal in their behalf, the latter replied, ‘If you
refuse to take part in the execution of this sentence, I will depose
you.’ Arran trembled, and held his peace.

The friends of the victims, then, remembering that certain priests in
the town had frequently sat at the tables of the accused, entreated
them to bear in mind their old friends who were then in misfortune, and
to intercede with the cardinal in their behalf. But these poor priests
were terrified at the thought that the cardinal might hear of their
former relations with the condemned, and they answered that they would
much rather see them dead than living. That was their way of showing
their gratitude. So the chronicler, whose phrase is not always elegant,
adds, ‘So cruel are these beasts, from the lowest to the highest.’

Agitation was increasing in the town. The cardinal had ready a great
band of armed men, who were charged to conduct the victims to the place
of execution. Robert Lamb, standing at the foot of the gallows, said to
the people, ‘Fear God, and forsake the pope.’ Then he announced that
calamity and ruin would not be slow to light upon the cardinal.[320]
The five Christians comforted one another with the hope ‘that they
should sup together in the kingdom of heaven that night.’

Hellen desired earnestly to die with her husband, but this was not
permitted her. At the moment of their parting she gave him a kiss
and said, ‘Husband, rejoice, for we have lived together many joyful
days; but this day in which we must die ought to be most joyful unto
us both, because we must have joy forever. Therefore I will not bid
you good-night, for we shall suddenly meet with joy in the kingdom
of heaven.’ She was then taken to a pond to be drowned. She was
holding her infant in her arms and giving it suck for the last time.
But this pathetic incident did not touch the pitiless hearts of her
executioners. She had entreated her neighbors to take care of her
children. She took the ‘sucking bairn’ from her breast and gave it
to the nurse, and was then flung into the water. The cardinal was
satisfied.[321]

From Perth the cardinal passed into Forfarshire, always dragging along
with him the unhappy regent. Many inhabitants of that region appeared
before him for having committed the hateful crime of reading the New
Testament. Among them was a Dominican named John Rogers, a man of piety
and learning, who, by preaching Christ in Forfarshire, had led many
souls into peace. He was confined with others in the castle of St.
Andrews, and a few days later his dead body was found at the foot of
the walls. It was very generally believed that the cardinal had ordered
him to be put to death in his dungeon, and to be thrown over the
walls. A report was then circulated that the prisoner, in attempting
to escape, had fallen on the rocks and been killed. A considerable
number of Scots, among them Sir Henry Elder, John Elder, Walter Piper,
Lawrence Pullar, and others were banished, merely on suspicion of
having read the Gospel.[322]

[Sidenote: THE ENGLISH FLEET AT LEITH.]

The cardinal now returned to Edinburgh, and took the regent with him.
He was perfectly satisfied with his campaign, and was meditating
fresh exploits of the same kind, when, at the very moment of his
saying ‘Peace and security,’ a fleet appeared at sea. Messengers came
suddenly to announce to the regent and the cardinal that a multitude of
vessels were entering the Firth of Forth, and were making for Leith and
Edinburgh. ‘It is the English,’ said most people, ‘and it is greatly to
be feared that they will land.’ The cardinal dissembled his anxiety,
affected to smile and to jest, and said, with a contemptuous air, ‘It
is but the island fleet; they are come to make us a show and to put
us in fear. I shall lodge the men-of-war in my eye that shall land in
Scotland.’[323] Then he went to his dinner-table, and talked with every
one as though no danger were threatening. All Edinburgh was eager to
gaze on the wonderful vessels, and great crowds assembled for that
purpose on the castle hill and on the heights near the town. ‘But what
then can it all mean?’ people said to one another. By a little after
six o’clock in the evening more than two hundred ships had cast anchor
in Leith roads. The admiral had a ship’s boat launched, which began
carefully to take soundings from Granton craigs to East Leith. All
sensible men understood what it meant, but if any one of them uttered
what he thought, the clerics shrugged their shoulders. All men went to
bed, just as if those ships had brought their broadsides to bear for
the defence of the sleepers.

At daybreak on Sunday, May 4, Lord Lisle, who was in command of the
fleet, ordered the disembarkation. The pinnaces and other small vessels
approached as near as they could to the shore, while the larger vessels
discharged their men into the long-boats, and so they got to land.
By ten o’clock the operation was completed, and the spectators from
Edinburgh beheld, to their great astonishment, more than ten thousand
men under arms. The cardinal and the regent, dropping their false show
of calmness, appeared now very much alarmed, and, forgetting their
ridiculous bluster and bragging, jumped into a carriage and fled as
fast as their horses could carry them. They did not halt till they
had put twenty miles of country between them and the danger which
frightened them. Before starting they had given orders, for the purpose
of pacifying the English, that the earl of Angus, Sir George Douglas,
and two other lords, advocates of the English alliance, who had been
cast into prison at Blackness, should be set at liberty. This was done
that night, and Sir George said, merrily, ‘I thank King Henry and my
gentle masters of England.’[324]

The troops which had landed entered Leith, under the command of
the earl of Hertford, between twelve and one o’clock, after having
dispersed a small body of men which resisted them. As they found dinner
ready in all the houses, and the tables loaded with wines and victuals,
they sat down and refreshed themselves. On Monday, May 5, two thousand
English horsemen came from Berwick to reinforce the infantry, and the
whole army, after taking one day’s rest, forced the gates of Edinburgh
on Wednesday and entered the town. People called to mind the terrible
threats of Henry VIII. The town was first pillaged and then burnt. The
palace of Holyrood, Leith and the environs shared the same fate. The
English were not able to take the castle, and after having satiated
themselves with pillage, burning, and eating, they carried off their
plunder to the ships. The English army returned to their own country
by way of Berwick, sacking and burning Haddington and Dunbar, castles,
country seats, and all the districts through which they passed. The
army had lost only forty men.[325]

Henry VIII. had entertained the vastest projects. His aims were that
Scotland should renounce the French alliance; that the queen should be
placed in his own household; that the title of elector of the kingdom
should be given to him; that Lennox should be named regent in the place
of Arran; and that the Word of God should be preached, of course in his
own way. This appears from the instructions given by himself to the
governors of the marches.[326] But he felt it necessary to postpone his
scheme, and to content himself with the chastisement inflicted on the
capital. We have to encounter facts such as these in the history of
every people and of all ages. It is impossible to narrate or to read
them without horror. Happily, Scotland at this epoch offers to our
notice facts of a quite different kind, which are within the province
of Christian civilization.




                             CHAPTER XIV.

               WISHART: HIS MINISTRY AND HIS MARTYRDOM.

                     (SUMMER OF 1544-MARCH, 1546.)


[Sidenote: GEORGE WISHART.]

In the summer of 1544, shortly after the events of which we have
just spoken, a pious man, George Wishart, returned from England to
Scotland. He was a brother of the laird of Pittarow, in the county of
Mearns. While at Montrose, in 1538, he had read the Greek New Testament
with several youths whom he was educating, and had been cited by the
bishop of Brechin to appear before him. Wishart had then retired to
Cambridge, and there he devoted himself to study for six years. In
1544, the Scottish commissioners who came into England respecting
the treaty with Henry VIII. took him back with them, to Scotland. He
went first to Montrose, his old abode, and thence to Dundee, where he
wished to preach the Word of God. His personal appearance was entirely
prepossessing. He was amiable, unassuming, polite. His chief delight
was to learn and to teach. He was tall; his black hair was cut short,
his beard was long. His physiognomy was indicative of a somewhat
melancholy temperament. He wore a French cap of the best material, a
gown which fell to his heels, and a black doublet. There was about
his whole person an air of decorum and grace. He spoke with modesty
and with great seriousness. He slept on straw, and his charity had
no end, night nor day. He loved all men. He gave gifts, consolation,
assistance: he was studious of all means of doing good to all and hurt
to none. He distributed periodically among the poor various articles
of clothing, always ‘saving his French cap, which he kept the whole
year of my being with him,’ says the Cambridge student who drew this
portrait of Wishart just before the latter set out for Scotland.[327]

Wishart’s reputation having preceded him, a multitude of hearers
gathered about him at Dundee. He expounded in a connected series of
discourses the doctrine of salvation, according to the Epistle to the
Romans, and his knowledge and eloquence excited general admiration.
But the priests declared everywhere that if he were allowed to go on,
the Roman system must inevitably fall to the ground. They therefore
sought the assistance of an influential layman, Robert Mill, who had
once professed the truth, but had since forsaken it. One day, just
as Wishart was finishing his discourse, Mill rose in the church and
forbade him in the queen’s name and the regent’s to trouble them any
more. Wishart was silent for awhile, with his eyes turned heavenward,
and then looking sorrowfully on the assembly he said--‘God is witness
that I never minded [intended] your trouble, but your comfort. But I am
assured that to refuse God’s Word and to chase from you his messenger
shall not preserve you from trouble, but shall bring you into it. I
have offered unto you the word of salvation, and with the hazard of
my life I have remained among you. But and [if] trouble unlooked for
apprehend you, turn to God, for He is merciful. But if ye turn not at
the first he will visit you with fire and sword.’ When he had thus
spoken, he came down from the pulpit and went away at once into the
western part of Scotland.[328]

[Sidenote: HIS PREACHING.]

Having arrived at Ayr, he preached there to large numbers of people
who gladly received his words. Dunbar, bishop of Glasgow, as soon
as he was informed of it, hastened to the town with a body of men
and took possession of the church in order to prevent Wishart from
preaching. The reformer’s friends were indignant at this step. The earl
of Glencairn, the laird of Loch Norris,[329] and several gentlemen of
Kyle went to Wishart and offered to get possession of the church and
to place him in the pulpit. ‘No,’ said the evangelist, wisely, ‘the
bishop’s sermon will not much hurt: let us go to the market-cross.’
They did so, and he there preached with so much energy and animation
that some of his hearers, who were enemies of the truth till that day,
received it gladly. Meanwhile the bishop was in the church with a very
small audience. There was hardly anyone to hear him but some vestry
attendants and some poor dependents. They were expecting a sermon, but
he had forgotten to put one in his pocket. He made them the best excuse
he could. ‘Hold us still for your bishop,’ he said, ‘and we shall
provide better the next time.’ He then with haste departed from the
town, not a little ashamed of his enterprise.[330]

Wishart persevered in his work, and his reputation spread all around.
The men of Mauchlin came and asked him to preach the Gospel to them
on the following Sunday. But the sheriff of Ayr heard of it, and sent
a body of men in the night to post themselves about the church. ‘We
will enter by force,’ said Hugh Campbell to Wishart. ‘Brother,’ replied
the evangelist, ‘it is the word of peace which God sends by me; the
blood of no man shall be shed this day for the preaching of it. I find
that Christ Jesus oftener preached in the desert, at the seaside, and
other places judged profane, than he did in the temple of Jerusalem.’
He then withdrew to the country, saying to the people who followed him
that the Saviour was ‘as potent upon the fields as in the kirk.’ He
climbed up a dike raised on the edge of the moorland, and there, in the
fair warm day, preached for more than three hours. One man present,
Lawrence Ranken, laird of Shield, who had previously led a wicked life,
was impressed by what he heard. ‘The tears ran from his eyes in such
abundance that all men wondered.’[331] Converted by that discourse,
the laird of Shield gave evidence in his whole after-life that his
conversion was genuine. Wishart preached with like success in the whole
district. The harvest was great, says one historian.

The reformer heard on a sudden that the plague had broken out at Dundee
four days after he left the town, and that it was raging cruelly. He
resolved instantly to go there. ‘They are now in trouble and they need
comfort,’ he said to those who would fain hold him back: ‘perchance
this hand of God will make them now to magnify and reverence that word
which before, for the fear of men, they set at light part.’

He reached Dundee in August, 1544, and announced the same morning that
he would preach. It was necessary to keep apart the plague-stricken
from those who were in health, and for that purpose he took his station
at the east gate of the town. Those who were in health had their
place within the city, and those who were sick remained without. Such
a distribution of an audience was surely never seen before! Wishart
opened the Bible and read these words--‘He sent his word and healed
them.’ (Ps. cvii. 20.) ‘The mercy of God,’ said he, ‘is prompt to fall
on all such as truly turn to Him, and the malice of men can neither eik
nor pair [add to nor diminish] his gentle visitation.’[332]--‘We do not
fear death,’ said some of his hearers; ‘nay, we judge them more happy
that should depart, than such as should remain behind.’ That east gate
of Dundee (Cowgate) was left standing in memory of Wishart when the
town walls were taken down at the close of the eighteenth century, and
it is still carefully preserved.

Wishart was not satisfied with speech alone, he personally visited the
sick, fearlessly exposing himself to infection in the most extreme
cases. He took care that the sick should have what they needed, and the
poor were as well provided for as the rich.

The town was in great distress lest the mouth from which so much
sweetness flowed should be closed.

[Sidenote: ATTEMPT TO MURDER WISHART.]

Nevertheless, at the cardinal’s instigation, says Knox, a priest named
Wighton took a sword, and concealing it under his gown mixed with the
crowd as if he were a mere hearer, and stood waiting at the foot of the
steps by which Wishart must come down. The discourse was finished, the
people dispersed. Wishart, whose glance was keen and whose judgment was
swift, noticed as he came down the steps a priest who kept his hand
under his gown, and as soon as he came near him he said, ‘My friend,
what would ye do?’ At the same moment he laid hold of the priest’s hand
and snatched the weapon from him. The assassin fell at his feet and
confessed his fault. Swiftly ran the report that a priest had attempted
to kill the reformer, and the sick who heard it turned back and cried,
‘Deliver the traitor to us, or else we will take him by force.’ And so
indeed they rushed on him. But Wishart put his arms round the assassin.
‘Whosoever troubles him,’ said he, ‘shall trouble me, for he has hurt
me in nothing.’ His friends however insisted that for the future one of
them, in arms, should accompany him whithersoever he went.[333]

When the plague had ceased at Dundee, Wishart thought that, as God had
put an end to that battle, he called him to another. It was indeed
proposed that he should hold a public disputation. He inquired of the
bishops where he should be heard. But first he went to Montrose ‘to
salute the kirk there,’ and although sometimes preaching the Gospel,
he was ‘most part in secret meditation, in the which he was so earnest
that night and day he would continue in it.’[334]

[Sidenote: HIS NIGHT OF PRAYER.]

While there he received a letter purporting to be written by his friend
the laird of Kynneir, who being sick desired him to come to him.[335]
It was a trick of the cardinal. Sixty armed horsemen were lying in
wait behind a hill to take him prisoner. He set out unsuspecting,
but when he had gone some distance, he suddenly stopped in the midst
of the friends who were accompanying him and seemed absorbed in deep
musing. Then he turned and went back. What mean you?’ said his friends,
wondering. ‘I will go no further,’ he replied: ‘I am forbidden of
God. I am assured there is treason.’ Pointing to the hill he added,
‘Let some of you go to yon place, and tell me what they find.’ These
brave men reported with all speed what they saw. ‘I know,’ said he,
‘that I shall end my life in that bloodthirsty man’s hands, but it
will not be of this manner.’ Shortly after, he set out for Edinburgh
in spite of the entreaties of the laird of Dundee, and went to lodge
at Innergowrie at the house of a Christian man named James Watson. A
little after midnight two men of good credit who were in the house,
William Spalding and John Watson, heard him open his door and go down
stairs. They followed him secretly, and saw him go into the garden and
walk for some time up and down an alley. Wishart, persuaded that he was
drawing near to his end, and thinking of the horrors of martyrdom and
of his own weakness, was greatly agitated and felt the need of calling
upon God that he might not fail in the midst of the conflict. He was
heard sighing and groaning, and just as day began to dawn, he was seen
to fall on his knees and afterwards on his face. For a whole hour his
two friends heard confused sounds of his prayer, interrupted now and
then by his tears. At length he seemed to grow quiet and to have found
rest for his soul. He rose and went quietly back to his chamber. In
the morning his anxious friends began to ask him where he had been.
He evaded the question. ‘Be plain with us,’ they said, ‘for we heard
your groans, yea, we heard your mourning, and saw you both upon your
knees and upon your face.’--‘I had rather ye had been in your beds,’
said he, ‘for I was scarce well occupied.’ And as they urged him, he
spoke to them of his approaching death and of his need of God’s help.
They were much saddened and wept. Wishart said to them--‘God shall
send you comfort after me. This realm shall be illuminated with the
light of Christ’s Evangel as clearly as ever was any realm since the
days of the apostles. The house of God shall be built into it: yea, it
shall not want, whatsoever the enemy imagine to the contrary, the very
cape-stone’ [top-stone].[336] Meaning, adds Knox, that the house of God
should there be brought to full perfection. Wishart went on--‘Neither
shall this be long to; there shall not many suffer after me, till
that the glory of God shall evidently appear and shall once triumph
in despite of Satan. But alas! if the people shall be afterwards
unthankful, then fearful and terrible shall the plagues be that after
shall follow.’ Wishart soon after went into the Lothians, i. e. into
the shires of Linlithgow, Edinburgh, and Haddington.

A man like Wishart assuredly belongs to the history of the Reformation.
But there is another motive leading us to narrate these circumstances.
The great reformer of Scotland was trained in the school of Wishart.
Among those who followed the latter from place to place as he preached
the Gospel was John Knox. He had left St. Andrews because he could not
endure either the superstition of the Romish system or the cardinal’s
despotism, and having betaken himself to the south of Scotland he had
been for some time tutor in the family of Douglas of Langniddrie. He
had openly professed the evangelical doctrine, and the clergy in their
wrath had declared him a heretic and deprived him of the priesthood.
Knox, attracted by the preaching and the life of Wishart, attached
himself to him and became his beloved disciple. In addition to his
public discourses, to which he listened with eager attention, he
received also instructions in private. He undertook for Wishart a duty
which was full of danger, but which he discharged joyfully. During
Wishart’s evangelical excursions he kept watch for the safety of his
person, and bore the sword which his friends had provided after the
attempt of the Dundee priest to assassinate him. Knox was soon to bear
another sword, the sword of the Spirit, like his master.

[Sidenote: HIS PREACHING.]

The earl of Cassilis and some other friends of Wishart had appointed to
meet him at Leith, and as that town is very near Edinburgh, they had
advised him not to show himself until their arrival. After awaiting
them for a day or two he fell into a deep melancholy. ‘What differ I
from a dead man,’ said he, ‘except that I eat and drink? To this time
God has used my labors to the disclosing of darkness, and now I lurk as
a man that was ashamed and durst not show himself before men.’--‘You
know,’ said his friends, ‘the danger wherein ye stand.’ ‘Let my God,’
he replied, ‘provide for me as best pleases him.’ On the following
Sunday, fifteen days before Christmas, he preached on the parable
of the sower.[337] From Leith he went to Brownston, Langniddrie and
Ormiston, and preached on the Sunday both morning and afternoon at
Inveresk to a large concourse of people. Two Franciscan friars came and
stood by the church door, and whispered something to those who were
going in to turn them back. Wishart observing this said to some who
were near the pulpit, ‘I heartily pray you to make room to these two
men; it may be that they be come to learn.’ Then addressing the monks
he said, ‘Come near, for I assure you ye shall hear the word of verity,
which shall either seal unto you this same day your salvation or your
condemnation.’ He continued his discourse, but the two friars, who had
taken up their places, did not cease whispering right and left, and
troubling all that stood near them. Wishart turned sharply to them and
said--‘O sergeants of Satan, and deceivers of the souls of men, will ye
neither hear God’s truth nor suffer others to hear it? Depart, and take
this for your portion; God shall shortly confound and disclose your
hypocrisy within this realm; ye shall be abominable unto men, and your
places and habitations shall be desolate.’ He then resumed his sermon,
and preached with so much power that Sir George Douglas, brother of the
earl of Angus, who was present at the meeting, said publicly after the
sermon, ‘I know that my lord governor and my lord cardinal shall hear
that I have been at this preaching (for they were then in Edinburgh).
Say unto them that I will avow it, and will not only maintain the
doctrine that I have heard, but also the person of the teacher to the
uttermost of my power.’ Those who were present greatly rejoiced at
these words, spoken by so influential a man. As for Wishart, it was
enough for him to know that God keeps his own people for the end to
which he calls them.[338] He preached in other places to large numbers,
and with all the more fervor for his persuasion and assertion that the
day of his death was at hand.

After Christmas he passed into Haddingtonshire. The cardinal, hearing
of his purpose, had informed the earl of Bothwell, who immediately
let it be known, both in the town and in the country, that no one
was to go and hear that heretic under pain of his displeasure. The
prohibition of this powerful lord had its effect. The first day there
was a large gathering to hear Wishart, but the next day his audience
was very small. A new trial now came to afflict him. His friends in
western Scotland had promised to come to Edinburgh to discuss with him
the means of advancing the cause of the Gospel. Now on the third day
after his arrival in Haddingtonshire, when he had already entered the
church and was about to go into the pulpit, a messenger approached and
handed him a letter. He opened it. His friends at Ayr and other places
wrote to tell him that certain obstacles prevented them from fulfilling
their promises. Struck with sorrow, ‘he called for John Knox, who had
waited upon him carefully from the time he came to Lothian.’[339] ‘I
am wearied of the world,’ said he, ‘for I perceive that men begin
to be weary of God.’ Knox wondered that Wishart should enter into
conversation with him before sermon, which he was never accustomed to
do, and said to him, ‘Sir, the time of sermon approaches, I will leave
you for the present to your meditations.’ He then took the letter and
withdrew.

[Sidenote: HIS LAST SERMON.]

Wishart, left to himself, began to walk about slowly at the back of the
high altar. He paced to and fro, sadness depicted on his countenance,
and everything about him revealing the deep grief that was in his soul.
This lasted about half an hour. At length he passed into the pulpit.
The audience was small, as it had been the day before. He had not power
to treat the subject which he had proposed: his heart was too full,
and he must needs unburden it before God. ‘O Lord,’ said he, ‘how long
shall it be that thy holy Word shall be despised and men shall not
regard their own salvation? I have heard of thee, Haddington, that in
thee would have been at a vain clerk-play two or three thousand people,
and now to hear the messenger of the eternal God, of all the town or
parish cannot be numbered one hundred persons. Sore and fearful shall
the plagues be that shall ensue this thy contempt, with fire and sword
shalt thou be plagued. And that because ye have not known nor will
not know the time of God’s merciful visitation.’ After saying these
words he made a short paraphrase of the second table of the law. He
exhorted to patience, to the fear of God, and to works of mercy; and
impressed by the presentiment that this was the last time he should
publicly preach, he made (so to speak) his last testament, declaring
that the spirit of truth and judgment were both in his heart and on his
lips.[340]

He quitted the church, bade farewell to his friends, and then prepared
to leave the town. ‘I will not leave you alone,’ said Knox to him.
But Wishart, who had his approaching end constantly before his eyes,
said--‘Nay, return to your bairns [his pupils], and God bless you. One
is sufficient for a sacrifice.’ He then compelled Knox to give up the
sword, and parted with him. The laird of Ormiston, who was at the time
with Wishart, had invited him to his house in the country. They set
out on their journey with several gentlemen of the neighborhood. The
cold was severe, and they therefore travelled on foot. While at supper
Wishart spoke of the death of God’s children. Then he said with a
cheerful smile--‘Methinks that I desire earnestly to sleep. We’ll sing
a psalm.’ He chose Psalm li., and struck up the tune himself:--‘Have
mercy upon me, O God, according to thy loving kindness.’ As soon as the
psalm was ended, he went to his chamber and to bed.

[Sidenote: ARREST OF WISHART.]

A little before midnight a troop of armed men silently approached,
surrounded the house that no one might escape, and demanded Wishart.
But neither promises nor threats could induce Ormiston to deliver up
his guest. They then went for the earl of Bothwell, the most powerful
lord of that region. Bothwell came, and said to the laird--‘It is
but vain to make him to hold his house, for the governor and the
cardinal with all their power are coming. But and if you will deliver
the man unto me, I will promise upon my honor that he shall be safe
and sound, and that it shall pass the power of the cardinal to do
him any harm or scathe.’ Ormiston, confiding in this promise, told
Wishart what had occurred. ‘Open the gates,’ replied he, immediately;
‘the blessed will of my God be done.’ Bothwell entered, with several
gentlemen who accompanied him. Wishart said to him, ‘I praise my God
that so honorable a man as you, my lord, receives me this night in
the presence of these noblemen; for now I am assured that, for your
honor’s sake, ye will suffer nothing to be done unto me besides the
order of law.’ The earl replied--‘I shall preserve your body from all
violence, neither shall the governor nor cardinal have their will over
you: but I shall retain you in my own hands till that either I shall
make you free or else restore you in the same place where I receive
you.’ Immediately after giving this promise, the earl set out with
Wishart for Elphinston. The cardinal, bent on getting possession of
Wishart’s friends, sent five hundred horsemen to Ormiston to seize the
laird, together with the lairds of Brownston and Calder. Brownston
fled through the woods, but the other two were carried off to Edinburgh
castle. Wishart was removed to the strong castle of Hailes on the banks
of the Tyne, the principal mansion of Bothwell in the Lothians.[341]

That did not satisfy the cardinal, who wanted Wishart more than all.
The queen-mother, Mary of Guise, who was not on friendly terms with
Bothwell, promised him her support if he would give up the evangelist.
The cardinal, on his part, ‘gave gold, and that largely.’ ‘Gold and
women have corrupted all worldly and fleshly men from the beginning,’
says Knox.[342] The earl raised some objections: ‘but an effeminate
man,’ adds Knox, ‘cannot long withstand the assaults of a gracious
queen.’ Wishart was first taken to Edinburgh castle, and at the end of
January, 1546, the regent gave him up to the cardinal, who confined
him at St. Andrews, in the sea tower. The assistance of a civil judge
was, it seems, necessary to give validity to the judgment. The cardinal
requested one of Arran, but one of the regent’s councillors, Hamilton
of Preston, said to him--‘What, will you deliver up to wicked men those
whose uprightness is acknowledged even by their enemies? Will you put
to death those who are guilty of no more crime than that of preaching
the Gospel of Christ? What ingratitude towards God!’

The regent consequently wrote to the cardinal that he would not
consent that any hurt should be done to that man without a careful
investigation of his cause. The cardinal, on receiving this letter,
flew into a violent passion. ‘It was only for civility’s sake,’ said
he, ‘that I made the request. I and my clergy have the power in
ourselves to inflict on Wishart the chastisement which he deserves.’
He invited the archbishop of Glasgow, and all bishops and other
dignitaries of the Church, to assemble at St. Andrews on February 27
to consult on the matter, although it was already decided in his own
mind.’[343]

The next day the dean of St. Andrews went to the prison where Wishart
was confined, and summoned him in the cardinal’s name to appear before
the judges on the morrow. ‘What needed,’ replied the prisoner, ‘my
lord cardinal to summon me to answer for my doctrine openly before
him, under whose power and dominion I am thus straitly bound in irons?
May not my lord compel me to answer to his extorted power?’ On March
1 the cardinal ordered all the household servants of his palace to
put themselves under arms. The civil power, it is remembered, had
refused to take part in the proceedings, and therefore Beatoun took
its place. His men at once equipped themselves with lances, swords,
axes, knapsacks, and other warlike array. It might have been thought
that some military action was in hand, rather than a gathering of
priests who assumed to busy themselves about God’s Church. These armed
champions, putting themselves in marching order, first escorted the
bishops with great ceremony to the abbey church, and then went for
Wishart. The governor of the castle put himself at the head of the
band, and so they led the prisoner ‘like a lamb to sacrifice.’ As he
entered the door of the abbey church he threw his purse to a poor
infirm man lying there, and at length he stood in the presence of the
numerous and brilliant assembly. To invest the proceedings with due
formality, Beatoun had caused two platforms to be erected, facing
each other. Wishart was set on one of them, and the accuser, Lauder,
took his place on the other. The dean, Winryme,[344] then appeared in
the pulpit. This worthy churchman, who was charged to deliver the
customary sermon, was secretly a friend to the Gospel. He read the
parable of the ‘good seed’ and the tares (Matt. xiii. 24-30), and set
forth various pious considerations which told more against the judges
than against the accused, and which the latter heard with pleasure.
Winryme concluded, however, by saying that the tares were heresy,
and that heretics ought to be put down in this life by the civil
magistrate; yet in the passage he was treating stood the words, ‘Let
both grow together until the harvest.’ It remained to ascertain which
were heretics, the judges or the accused.[345]

[Sidenote: PREPARATIONS FOR HIS TRIAL.]

When the sermon was ended, the bishops ordered Wishart to stand up
on his platform to hear the accusation. Then rose the accuser, John
Lauder, a priest whom the chronicler calls a monster, and, facing
Wishart, unrolled a long paper full of threatenings and devilish
maledictions, and, addressing the guiltless evangelist in cruel words,
hurled pitilessly at him all the thunders of the papacy. The ignorant
crowd who heard him, expected to see the earth open and swallow the
unhappy reformer; but he remained quiet, and listened with great
patience and without a change of countenance to the violent accusations
of his adversary. When Lauder had finished reading at the top of his
voice the threatening indictment, he turned to Wishart, his face ‘all
running down with sweat,’ says the chronicler, ‘and frothing at the
mouth like a boar, he spat at Mr. George’s face, saying, What answerest
thou to these sayings, thou renegade, traitor, and thief, which we have
duly proved by sufficient witness against thee?’[346]

Wishart knelt down and prayed for the help of God. Then rising, he made
answer with all sweetness--‘My lords, I pray you quietly to hear me,
so that instead of condemning me unjustly, to the great peril of your
souls, you may know that I have taught the pure Word of God, and that
you may receive it yourselves as the source from which health and life
shall spring forth for you. In Dundee I taught the Epistle of St. Paul
to the Romans, and shall show your discretions faithfully what fashion
and manner I used when I taught, without any human dread....’

At these words the accuser interrupted him, and cried with all his
might, ‘Thou heretic, renegade, traitor, and thief, it was not lawful
for thee to preach, ... and we forethink that thou hast been a preacher
too long.’ Then all the prelates, terrified at the thought that he was
going to set before that vast audience the very substance and pith
of his teaching, said one to another, ‘He is so crafty, and in Holy
Scriptures so exercised, that he will persuade the people to his own
opinion and raise them against us.’ Wishart, perceiving that he had no
chance of a fair hearing before that ecclesiastical court, said, ‘I
appeal from my lord cardinal to my lord the governor.’ ‘What,’ replied
Lauder, ‘is not my lord cardinal the second person within this realm,
chancellor of Scotland, archbishop of St. Andrews, bishop of Mirepoix
[in Languedoc], commendator of Arbroath, _legatus natus, legatus a
latere_...?’ He recited so many titles, says the chronicler, that
you might have laden a ship with them, much sooner an ass.[347] ‘Whom
desirest thou to be thy judge?’ cried Lauder.

[Sidenote: THE TRIAL.]

Wishart replied with meekness, ‘I refuse not my lord cardinal, but
I desire the Word of God to be my judge, and the temporal estate,
with some of your lordships mine auditory; because I am here my lord
governor’s prisoner.’ But the priests mocked him, saying, ‘Such
man, such judge!’ According to them, the laymen who might have been
appointed his judges were heretics also, like him.

The cardinal, without further delay, was going to have sentence of
condemnation passed; but some who stood by counselled him to read the
articles of accusation, and to permit Wishart to answer to them, in
order that the people might not be able to say that he was condemned
without a hearing.

Lauder therefore began--‘Thou, false heretic, renegade, traitor, and
thief, deceiver of the people, despisest the holy Church’s, and in like
case contemnest my lord governor’s authority; for when thou preachedst
in Dundee, and wert charged by my lord governor’s authority to desist,
thou wouldst not obey, but perseveredst in the same. Therefore the
bishop of Brechin cursed thee, and delivered thee into the hands of the
devil, and gave thee in commandment that thou shouldst preach no more;
yet notwithstanding thou didst continue obstinately.’

_Wishart_: ‘My lords, I have read in the Acts of the Apostles that it
is not lawful for the threatenings and menaces of men to desist from
the preaching of the Evangel.’

_Lauder_: ‘Thou, false heretic, didst say that a priest standing at the
altar saying mass was like a fox wagging his tail in July.’[348]

_Wishart_: ‘My lords, I said not so. These were my sayings: the moving
of the body outward, without the inward moving of the heart, is nought
else but the playing of an ape, and not the true serving of God.’

_Lauder_: ‘Thou false heretic, traitor, and thief, thou saidst that the
sacrament of the altar was but a piece of bread baken upon the ashes.’

_Wishart_: ‘I once chanced to meet with a Jew when I was sailing upon
the water of the Rhine. By prophecies and many other testimonies of the
Scriptures I approved that the Messiah was come, the which they called
Jesus of Nazareth. He answered, You adore and worship a piece of bread
baken upon the ashes, and say that is your God. I have rehearsed here
but the sayings of the Jew, which I never affirmed to be true.’ At
these words the bishops shook their heads, spitting on the ground and
crying out, and showed in all ways that they would not hear him.

_Lauder_: ‘Thou, false heretic and renegade, hast said that every
layman is a priest, and that the pope hath no more power than another
man.’

_Wishart_: ‘I have read in some places of St. John and St. Peter, of
the which one sayeth, He hath made us kings and priests; the other
sayeth, He hath made us the kingly priesthood. Wherefore I have
affirmed any man, being cunning and perfect in the Word of God and the
true faith of Jesus Christ, to have his power given him of God. And
again I say, any unlearned man, and not exercised in the Word of God,
nor yet constant in his faith, whatsoever estate or order he be of,
hath no power to bind nor to loose.’[349]

These words greatly amused the assembly; the reverends and the most
reverends burst out laughing, mocking Wishart, and calling him an
imbecile. The notion that a layman should have a power which the holy
father had not seemed to them the very height of madness. ‘Laugh ye,
my lords?’ said the messenger of Christ. ‘Though that these my sayings
appear scornful and worthy of derision to your lordships, nevertheless
they are very weighty unto me and of great value, because they stand
not only upon my life but also the honor and glory of God.’

Some pious men who were in the assembly were indignant at the madness
of the prelates and affected by the invincible patience of Wishart.
But others cried aloud, ‘Wherefore let we him speak any further?’ A
man named John Scot, who stood behind Lauder, said to him. ‘Tarry not
upon his witty and godly answers, for we may not abide them, no more
nor the devil may abide the sign of the cross when it is named.’[350]
There was no due form of trial, nor any freedom of discussion, says
Buchanan, but a great din of voices, shouts of disapprobation, and
hateful speeches. The accuser thundered from his platform, but that was
all.[351] The bishops unanimously pronounced that the pious Wishart
must be burnt. Falling on his knees, Wishart prayed and said--‘O
immortal God, how long shalt thou suffer the wodness [madness] and
great cruelty of the ungodly to exercise their fury upon thy servants
which do further thy Word in this world. O Lord, we know surely that
thy true servants must needs suffer persecution for thy name’s sake,
affliction and troubles in this present life which is but a shadow; but
yet we desire thee, merciful Father, that thou defend thy congregation
which thou hast chosen before the beginning of the world.’

[Sidenote: THE SENTENCE.]

The sentence must be pronounced, but the bishops were afraid to
pronounce it before the people. They therefore gave orders to have the
church cleared, and this could only be done slowly, as many of the
people who had a wish to hear Wishart were removed with difficulty.
At length, when the prelates and their colleagues found themselves
almost alone, sentence of death was passed on Wishart, and the cardinal
ordered his guards to take him back to the castle. Confined in the
governor’s room, he spent the greater part of the night in prayer.
The next morning the bishops sent to him two friars who asked him if
he did not want a confessor. ‘I will make no confession unto you,’ he
answered; ‘go and fetch me yonder man that preached yesterday, and I
will make my confession unto him.’ When Winryme was come, they talked
together for some time. Then the dean said, ‘Have you a wish to
receive the sacrament of the supper?’ ‘Assuredly,’ replied Wishart, ‘if
it be administered according to the institution of the Lord, with the
bread and the wine.’ Winryme then went to the cardinal and declared to
him that the man was innocent. Beatoun, inflamed with anger, said, ‘And
you, we have long known what you are!’ Winryme having inquired if he
might give the sacrament to the prisoner. ‘No,’ replied the cardinal,
‘it is not fitting to grant any of the benefits of the Church to a
heretic.’[352]

The next morning at nine o’clock the governor of the castle informed
Wishart that the communion was refused him. Then, as he was going to
breakfast with his dependents and servants, he invited Wishart to join
them at the meal. ‘Right willingly,’ he answered, ‘especially because I
know that you and yours are good men and are united with me in the same
body of Christ.’[353]

When the table was spread and the members of the household had taken
their places, Wishart said to the governor, ‘Give me leave, for
the Saviour’s sake, to make a brief exhortation.’ It was to him an
opportunity of celebrating the true Supper. He reminded his hearers
of the institution of the sacred feast, and of the Lord’s death. He
exhorted those who sat at table with him to lay aside all hatred, to
love one another and to lead a holy life. After this he gave thanks,
and then took the bread and brake it, and gave of it to such as he knew
were willing to communicate, and bade them feed spiritually on Christ.
Taking a cup, he spoke of the blood shed for the remission of sins,
drank of it and gave them to drink. ‘I shall no more drink of this
cup,’ said he, ‘no more eat of this bread in this life; a bitterer
draught is reserved for me, because I have preached Christ. Pray that
I may take that cup with patience, as the Lord’s appointment.’ He
concluded with further giving of thanks and then retired to his chamber.

[Sidenote: FINAL PREPARATIONS.]

On a plot of ground to the west of the castle and not far from the
priory, men were already busily engaged, some in preparing the pile,
others erecting the gallows. The place of execution was surrounded by
soldiers, and the gunners had their cannon in position and stood beside
them ready to fire. One would have thought that preparations were
making for a siege. The cardinal had ordered these measures fearing
lest Wishart’s many friends should take him away, and perhaps still
more for the sake of making a display of his own power. Meanwhile
the windows in the castle-yard were adorned with hangings, silken
draperies, and velvet cushions, that the cardinal and the prelates
might enjoy at their ease the spectacle of the pile and of the tortures
which they were going to inflict on that righteous man.[354]

When all was ready, two of the deathsmen entered Wishart’s prison. One
of them brought and put on him a coat of black cloth, the other tied
small bags of powder to various parts of his body. Next they bound his
hands firmly behind him, put a rope round his neck and a chain about
his waist, and led him forth in the midst of a party of soldiers. When
he came to the pile he knelt down and prayed. Then he rose and said
to the people--‘Christian brethren and sisters, be not offended in
the Word of God for the affliction and torments which ye see already
prepared for me; but I exhort you that you love the Word of God, and
suffer patiently and with a comfortable heart, for the Word’s sake
which is your undoubted salvation and everlasting comfort. My doctrine
was no old wives’ fable after the constitutions made by men. But for
the true evangely, which was given to me by the grace of God, I suffer
this day by men, not sorrowfully, but with a glad heart and mind. For
this cause I was sent: that I should suffer this fire, for Christ’s
sake. This grim fire I fear not. Some have said of me that I taught
that the soul of man should sleep until the last day. But I know surely
and my faith is such that my soul shall sup with my Saviour Christ this
night (ere it be six hours), for whom I suffer this.’[355] Then he
prayed--‘I beseech thee, Father of heaven! to forgive them that have of
any ignorance or else have of any evil mind forged any lies upon me: I
forgive them with all my heart. I beseech Christ to forgive them that
have condemned me to death this day ignorantly.’ The hangman fell on
his knees before him and said, ‘I pray you forgive me.’ ‘Come hither
to me,’ replied Wishart; and he kissed him, and added, ‘Lo, here is
a token that I forgive thee. My heart, do thine office.’ He was then
bound with ropes to the stake, and said, ‘Saviour of the world, have
mercy on me! Father of heaven, into thy hands I commit my spirit.’ The
executioner lighted the fire. The cardinal and his accomplices beheld
from the windows the martyr and the fire which was consuming him. The
governor of the castle watching the flames exclaimed, ‘Take courage.’
Wishart answered, ‘This fire torments my body, but noways abates my
spirit.’ Then catching sight of the cardinal at the window with his
courtiers, he added, ‘He who in such state, from that high place,
feedeth his eyes with my torments, within few days shall be hanged out
at the same window to be seen with as much ignominy as he now leaneth
there in pride.’[356] Some authors consider these words, reported by
Buchanan, to be an instance of that _second sight_ with which they
allege the Scots to be endowed. Wishart, however, did not need an
extraordinary revelation to teach him that ‘the wicked goeth away in
his wickedness.’ He had hardly uttered those words when the rope was
tightened about his neck, so that he lost the power of speaking. The
fire reduced his body to ashes; and the bishops, full of steadfast
hatred of this servant of God, caused an order to be published that
same evening through all the town, that no one should pray for their
victim under the severest penalties. They knew what respect was felt
for him by many even of the Catholics themselves.

There are people who say that religion is a fable. A life and a death
such as those of Wishart show that it is a great reality.




                              CHAPTER XV.

                CONSPIRACY AGAINST BEATOUN.--HIS DEATH.

                         (MARCH TO MAY 1546.)


[Sidenote: FEELING CONCERNING WISHART’S DEATH.]

The death of Wishart excited in Scotland feelings of very diverse
character. The bishops and their adherents extolled to the skies the
cardinal who, without troubling himself about the regent’s authority,
and suppressing the insolence of the people, had constituted himself
the defender of Rome and of the priesthood. ‘Ah,’ said they, ‘if the
Church had formerly had such champions, she would keep all things under
her dominion by the very force and weight of her majesty.’

Simple-hearted Christians lamented the martyrdom without a thought of
revenge. But one part of the people, and with them several of the most
eminent men, condemned aloud at table and everywhere the cardinal’s
cruelty, and declared that the blood which had been shed called for
vengeance. Even those who, without sharing Wishart’s views, were
actuated by just and generous sentiments, asked themselves what hope
they could have of preserving their liberties under the most cruel of
tyrants; under a prelate who made war alike on men and on God; who
pursued with his enmity every one that possessed wealth or was animated
by piety, and sacrificed them to his caprice like beasts taken from
the stall;[357] who gave his sanction to connections with worthless
mistresses, and dissolved lawful marriages at his pleasure; who in his
own house wallowed in debauchery with prostitutes, and out of doors, in
his wrath, revelled in the slaughter of innocent men and in the blood
of heretics.[358] Such is the portrait of Beatoun drawn by Buchanan.

The cardinal, who could not remain ignorant of these speeches, was
desirous of strengthening his power by means of new alliances. He
therefore gave one of his daughters, Margaret Beatoun--whose mother
was Mary, daughter of Sir James Ogilvy--in marriage to David Lindsay,
son of the earl of Crawford, with a portion of four thousand marks.
The nuptials were celebrated with a magnificence almost royal. That a
priest could celebrate with so much parade the nuptials of his daughter
showed that he was destitute even of that honorable shame which is
excited by the dread of anything that violates decency. He believed
himself to be stronger than all Scotland, and by his despotic measures
he was constantly adding to the number of his enemies.

[Sidenote: CONSPIRACY AGAINST BEATOUN.]

Among those who had served him with the utmost devotion was Norman
Lesley, brother of the earl of Rothes. On occasion of Lesley’s
reminding the cardinal of certain promises which he had made to him,
they got to high words and parted bitter foes.[359] Thenceforth
Lesley was head of the disaffected, and by setting before his friends
the intolerable pride of the cardinal he induced them to join in a
conspiracy against his life.[360] His uncle, John Lesley, did not
shrink from saying before them all, clapping his right hand at the
same time on his sword, ‘This hand shall draw this old sword, and they
two shall be the cardinal’s confessors,’ meaning thereby that they
should dismiss him into the other world. The saying was reported to
Beatoun, but he made light of it, fancying himself perfectly safe in
the blockhouse--a kind of fortress--which he had built. ‘I laugh at all
that noise,’ said he, ‘and I would not give a button for such bragging.
Is not my lord governor mine? Witness his eldest son their pledge at
my table. Have I not the queen at my own devotion? Is not France my
friend, and am not I friend to France? What danger should I fear?’
Nevertheless Beatoun, for the purpose of cutting off those who troubled
him, ordered all his creatures, gentlemen of Fifeshire, to meet him at
Falkland on Monday, May 31. The Lesleys and a certain number of their
friends were to be taken prisoners and put to death. On the other side,
Lesley and his accomplices had no embarrassing scruples at all. The
right of the strongest was still frequently appealed to in that half
barbarian age. A _coup d’état_, with deeds of violence, was a quite
familiar occurrence. These nobles looked on Wishart’s death, without
the concurrence of the civil judges, which the lawful government
had refused, as a murder; and they considered that as Beatoun was a
murderer he ought to be himself put to death. They did not reflect
that they were making themselves guilty of the very crime which Beatoun
had committed, that of putting themselves in the place of the regular
judges. The right of war between feudal lords, which had not yet ceased
to be recognized, sufficed to justify them in their own eyes. It was
arranged that Norman Lesley, with his brother and four of his friends,
should go to St. Andrews, where the cardinal was residing, and that
they should take up their lodging in the hostelry at which they were
accustomed to stay, so as not to awaken any suspicion. They entered the
town accordingly, and without fear, although the place swarmed with the
friends, dependents, and creatures of the mighty primate. Some of the
inhabitants who shared their views held themselves in readiness at the
first signal to give them assistance. They agreed to seize the castle
at early morning, before the household were up.

[Sidenote: SEIZURE OF THE CASTLE.]

On Friday, May 28, in the evening, Norman Lesley arrived at St.
Andrews, where he found William Kirkaldy of Grange awaiting him. John
Lesley, on whom the cardinal’s suspicions chiefly fell, came last. The
conspirators took counsel in the night, and on Saturday, May 29, at
three o’clock in the morning, started on their enterprise, the capture
of a strong castle which was held by more than a hundred men prepared
for resistance. They came by various ways, and met in the churchyard of
the abbey, not far from the castle. Beatoun, well knowing the feelings
of indignation which his proceedings had aroused in the country, even
amongst his own flatterers, had determined to turn his place of abode
into a citadel fit to stand a siege.[361] The works were in progress,
and this circumstance facilitated the daring attempt now to be made
by his enemies. The primate pressed the work on so urgently that it
hardly ceased by day or by night. Consequently the gates were open
early in the morning, and the drawbridge was let down for the workmen
to bring in stone, mortar, and other necessary building materials. The
Lesleys, who with some of their companions were concealed in a small
house near the gates, had sent thence William Kirkaldy and six others.
These having passed the gates hailed the porter, and said to him, ‘Is
my lord cardinal waking?’ ‘No,’ replied he. Mary Ogilvy, the mother of
Margaret and of two sons, David and Alexander Beatoun, had spent the
night at the castle. She was seen going away early in the morning by
the private postern.[362] The cardinal, at the moment of the arrival
of the Lesleys and their friends, was in a sound sleep. While William
Kirkaldy was talking to the porter, and the latter was about to show
him the way, Norman and John Lesley came up one after the other with
arms. The porter, in alarm, would have put himself on the defensive;
but one of the conspirators broke his head, got possession of his
keys, and threw his body into the fosse. At that moment the workmen,
numbering more than a hundred, fled through the wicket-gate at full
speed, and William Kirkaldy took possession of the private postern,
‘fearing that the fox should have escaped.’ As the assailants were
only sixteen, they felt the need of proceeding with great caution. The
leaders sent four of their company, among whom were Peter Carmichael, a
tall, stout-hearted gentleman, and James Melville of Cumbec, to guard
the cardinal’s door and see that no one gave him warning of his danger.
Others of the company, who had some acquaintance with the place and the
people, were set to watch the bedrooms of the officers and servants of
the cardinal. Distributing themselves in small groups, they entered
the rooms successively, found the occupants half asleep, and said to
them, ‘If you utter the faintest cry you are dead men!’[363] Those men
therefore, in their fright, dressed themselves hastily and were led out
of the castle, no violence being done to any of them and no noise made.
The only person whom they left in the castle was the regent’s eldest
son. John Lesley, alone in this vast abode, knocked loudly at the
cardinal’s door. ‘What means that noise?’ said he. ‘That Norman Lesley
has taken the castle,’ was the reply; ‘open.’ At these words Beatoun
ran towards the postern, but seeing that it was guarded, he returned
straightway into his room, seized his two-handed sword, and bade his
valet barricade the door. ‘Open,’ they cried again. The cardinal
answered, ‘Who calls?’--‘My name is Lesley.’--‘Is that Norman?’--‘Nay,
my name is John.’ The cardinal, remembering John’s words, cried, ‘I
will have Norman, for he is my friend.’--‘Content yourself with such as
are here, for other shall ye get none,’ replied John. While the knocks
at the door grew louder, the cardinal seized a box of gold and hid it
in a corner. Then he said, ‘Will ye save my life?’--‘It may be that we
will,’--said John.--‘Nay,’ replied Beatoun, ‘swear unto me by God’s
wounds, and I shall open to you.’

Then John Lesley cried out, ‘Fire! fire!’ The door was too strong to
burst open, and they brought a grate full of burning coals. Just as
it was ready the cardinal ordered the door to be opened. Lesley and
his companions rushed into the chamber and found Beatoun seated on a
chair. Lesley threw himself violently upon him. ‘I am a priest! I am a
priest!’ exclaimed the cardinal. ‘Ye will not slay me!’

But Lesley struck him with his sword, and Carmichael, full of wrath,
did the same. Melville, a man of gentle and serious character, says
Knox,[364] seeing his comrades in so great a rage, checked them. He
said, ‘This work and judgment of God, although it be secret, yet ought
to be done with greater gravity.’ Melville and others, by reason of
the ignorance and the prejudices of the age, sincerely believed in
the legal virtue of the Mosaic system, abolished by the Gospel, which
conferred on certain persons the right of killing a murderer, but which
founded at the same time the cities of refuge in which the guilty man
should be safe from the vengeance of the pursuer.[365]

[Sidenote: MURDER OF BEATOUN.]

Melville forgot that there was no city of refuge for Beatoun. Regarding
him as a murderer, and not supposing that by killing him he did himself
incur the guilt of murder, he presented to him the point of his sword,
and said gravely to him, ‘Repent thee of thine former wicked life, but
especially of the shedding of the blood of that notable instrument of
God, Mr. George Wishart; which albeit the flame of fire consumed before
men, yet cries it a vengeance upon thee, and we from God are sent to
revenge it. Here before my God I protest that neither the hatred of thy
person, the love of thy riches, or the fear of any trouble thou couldst
have done to me in particular, moved or moveth me to strike thee.’ And
he struck him with his sword.

The cardinal fell under repeated blows, without a word heard out of his
mouth except these, ‘I am a priest! I am a Priest! Fie, fie! All is
gone!’[366]

It was very soon known all over the city that the castle had been
taken. The friends and the creatures of the cardinal rose very quietly
from their beds, says Buchanan, armed themselves, and presently
appeared in a crowd about the fosse. They shouted with all their might,
uttered threats and insults, and demanded shells and all the necessary
means for making the assault. ‘You are making much noise to little
purpose,’ said those in the castle to them; ‘the best it were to you to
return to your own houses.’

The crowd answered, ‘What have ye done with my lord cardinal? Let us
see my lord cardinal!’--‘The man that you call the cardinal,’ it was
replied, ‘has received his reward, and in his own person will trouble
the world no more.’ But his partisans only cried the louder, ‘We shall
never depart till we see him,’ still persuaded that he was alive. Then
one or two men took up the body, and bearing it to the very window
at which a little while before Beatoun had sat to contemplate with
gladness, and as if in triumph, the execution of the pious Wishart,
exposed it there to the gaze of all.[367] Beatoun’s friends and the
populace, struck with amazement and terror by the unexpected sight, and
remembering Wishart’s prediction, dispersed in gloom and consternation.

The tidings of this murder were speedily spread over all the land, and,
while some angrily denounced it, others welcomed it as an event which
restored their country to liberty. There were indeed some who, like
James Melville, reckoned it a lawful act. But even among the enemies of
the cardinal there were men wise and moderate, who looked on the murder
with horror. It is remarked by one historian that of those who took
part in it few escaped the judgment of God, who punishes transgressors
by smiting them with the same stroke with which they have smitten
others.[368]

The Lesleys and their friends remained masters of the castle, and
they kept with them James, Lord Hamilton, afterwards earl of Arran,
the regent’s eldest son, whom Beatoun had detained as his hostage,
and who now became theirs. One of the conspirators, who believed that
in delivering Scotland from the tyrant they had done a praiseworthy
deed, William Kirkaldy, went to London. He obtained from Henry VIII.,
who considered the taking of the castle and the events which had
accompanied it to be a lawful revolution, a declaration that he was
prepared to take the party under his protection, on condition, however,
that the marriage contract between Edward and Mary should be carried
out. As communication by sea was easy between the castle and London,
English ships conveyed thither all supplies that were needful.

[Sidenote: OPINIONS ON THE MURDER.]

Hamilton, a bastard brother of the regent, was named by him archbishop
of St. Andrews, and was confirmed by Pope Paul III. This energetic
prelate immediately pressed on his brother the duty of besieging the
castle and of punishing all those who had taken it. He was strongly
supported by others. On August 23, 1546, the main body of the army
set out from Edinburgh to form the siege; but at the end of July,
1547,[369] the capture of the fortress being evidently hopeless, terms
were made with the besieged advantageous to them, but which neither
side had any intention of observing. This period forms an important
epoch, and we must suspend for a while the course of our narrative.

We have now traced the history of the ministry and the martyrdom of
Patrick Hamilton and George Wishart. We shall have by-and-by to trace,
_Deo adjuvante_, the mighty action of the third and greatest of the
Scottish reformers, John Knox.

The period, the history of which we have just gone over, was one of
active persecution. It remains for us to recount the events of the
contest with the papacy, into which the Scottish nobility energetically
entered, and the victory of the Reformation. Without entering at
present upon the narrative of facts, we shall cast a glance forward
in order to point out what was to give the victory to evangelical
Christianity. Assuredly it was not such actions as the capture of the
castle and the violent death of the persecutor. Such things are more
likely to ruin a cause than to save it. The Christian life and death
of Wishart contributed far more powerfully than the death of Beatoun
to the advancement of the kingdom of God. The history of the Scottish
Reformation serves to show the untruth of one assertion frequently made
by the enemies of the Reform.

According to them, the Reform could triumph only in those countries in
which it had the protection of princes. This is a serious error. It was
not the bloodthirsty Philip II. who established the Reformation in the
United Provinces of the Netherlands. It was neither the feeble James
V. nor the popish Mary Stuart who secured its triumph in Scotland.
That worthy niece of the Guises sought only to crush it. A stronger
arm than theirs fought against those mighty ones and gave the victory
to the weak. The enemies of the Reformation made use in Scotland of
the very weapons which in Italy, in Spain, and elsewhere arrested the
movement of regeneration. The reformers were burnt also in Scotland,
but the Reform arose out of their ashes. It was neither to their
character nor to their strength that the Scots attributed the triumph.
They knew that Jesus is the king of the Church, and that it is he who
saves it. This is the feature which more than any other, as we shall
see, characterized the Scottish Reformation. Andrew Melville said to
James VI., ‘Sire, there are two kings and two kingdoms in Scotland.
There is King James, the head of the state, and there is Jesus Christ
who is head of the Church.’[370] To the king enthroned at Rome, the
Scottish Reformation opposed the king enthroned in heaven, and to him
it attributed the victory.

[Sidenote: PRIEST AND PASTOR.]

But in proclaiming this supreme authority, the reformation in Scotland
also established the duties and the rights of Christians. The charge
of leading the Church in conformity with the law of God was there
intrusted to general assemblies elected by the free choice of a
Christian people.[371] The clergy had ruled in Scotland throughout
the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, and during the first part of
the sixteenth. The Reformation rescued the country from that clerical
domination, and gave to it the first of all liberties, the freedom of
faith. For centuries three powers had existed there,--the king, the
nobles, and the priests, and the last had kept the upper hand. After
the Reformation, two of these still remained, the king and the nobles;
but the people took the place of the clergy. It was under a popular
form, that of Presbyterianism, that the Church of Scotland constituted
itself. The feudal castles had for some time still a marked influence
on the destinies of the country; but the tide of national and Christian
life was steadily rising all round their walls and soon overflowed the
ancient battlements which crowned the summits of those old fortresses.
Laymen, the deputies of the people, obtained a voice in the presbytery,
in the synod, and in the general assembly. Thus, by successive steps,
the voice of the people became, through the influence of Reform, the
expression of the main force of the country.

It is a grave error to attribute, as some have done, to the Protestant
pastors of Scotland an incomprehensible domination, ‘an authority
nowise inferior to that which they had exercised as Catholic priests,’
and to represent them as ‘the most effectual obstacle to popular
progress.’[372] Nothing has in fact been less like the haughty Catholic
prelates of St. Andrews, Glasgow, and other dioceses, than a Scottish
minister. The Reformation gave to Scotland not only Christian truth,
but religious and political liberty besides. There, as everywhere,
it took from the priesthood its magic and its supremacy, which had
been its two main attributes in the Middle Ages. The ministers, whom
it substituted for the priests, having no longer the marvellous power
of transforming a bit of bread into God the Creator,--these disciples
of Jesus, no longer seated on the despotic throne of the confessional
to give pardon for sins, became simple heralds of the divine Word.
This holy Word has its place in every family and reigns supreme in
the Church. Thus, ministers have ceased to be masters and have become
servants. The real offence of these Scottish pastors, in the sight of
their detractors, is that they have always been a great obstacle, not
to the progress of the people and of civilization, as some have said,
but to the progress of unbelief and materialism. Now these mischievous
doctrines are mortal enemies to the freedom and prosperity of nations.




                               BOOK XI.

               CALVIN, AND THE PRINCIPLES OF HIS REFORM.




                              CHAPTER I.

               CALVIN AT GENEVA AND IN THE PAYS DE VAUD.

                                (1536.)


For years, and even for centuries, persistent and perilous endeavors
had been made at Geneva for a firm establishment of freedom. We have
already described some of the impressive scenes which marked the
successful close of these efforts at the beginning of the sixteenth
century, the noble principles and the mighty words of the energetic
laborers in this great enterprise.[373] It would certainly be going too
far to consider their labors and the truths which they announced as the
source whence our modern liberties have sprung. But it is impossible to
study the events of that epoch without emotion, or without recognizing
aspirations, principles, sacrifices, and actions worthy of admiration,
which were in fact the first great burst of light, the first noteworthy
manifestation of the politics and the virtues which must determine the
existence and make the prosperity of nations.[374]

That small town was, however, to give to the world a higher lesson
still. It was to do for religion what it had first done for politics,
and to render to faith the service which it had rendered to freedom.
These two achievements are closely related to each other; and it is
one of the characteristics of this history, that while it attributes
transcendent importance to Christian truth and life, it recognizes
at the same time all that is great and salutary in freedom. If the
author, as some have thought, had erred in assigning too high a place
to the heroic struggles to which Geneva owed her independence, he would
assuredly regret that he had not more skilfully handled the pen of
the historian for the purpose of immortalizing the great men and the
heroic actions of which the smallest and humblest of states afforded
the spectacle. But he would count himself fortunate if he should,
nevertheless, have contributed to bring into clear light the great
maxim, that political freedom and Christian truth must advance hand
in hand for the salvation of nations and the salvation of souls. Of
course, a blind demagogy, the formidable rock of our age, is at once
contrary to freedom and hostile to religion.

Geneva was fitted by various concurring conditions to play a part from
which the small extent of her territory seemed inevitably to shut her
out. Situated as this town was between Italy, France, and Germany, its
position formed the central point of the three great nations who were
distinguished in the first half of the sixteenth century for their new
or newly awakened love of letters, philosophy, and the arts. On several
occasions Frenchmen, Italians, and Germans came in large numbers to
settle at Geneva. By the reception of these three diverse elements into
her bosom she seemed to be called to blend them with each other and to
harmonize their opposing qualities. If any spark from the evangelical
fire which was then kindled should chance to escape from either of
those countries and to fall on the materials thus prepared at the foot
of the Alps, it might kindle a great fire, and might make Geneva a
hearth from which light, radiating far and wide, should contribute to
scatter the humiliating darkness which Rome and those princes whose
power was at her service then made to weigh heavily on the nations.

[Sidenote: JOHN CALVIN.]

This is what actually came to pass. To convert the spark into a pure,
vivid, dazzling light, there was need of an intellect of vast depth, a
will of vast energy, and a faith of vast power.

God sent the man that was needed.

A young stranger, a native of Picardie, had lately arrived at Geneva.
It had not occurred to him nor to his friends that he could be the
organ by whose agency and means God would bring about such great ends.
After his arrival Farel still continued to hold the first place in
the city. This young man, John Calvin, was naturally timid, and was
possessed by a dread of publicity which had already shown itself at
Basel and which led him to shun every occasion that would draw public
attention to himself. He was fond of study and of writing: and in that
path he believed that it was appointed for him to contribute to the
diffusion in the world of a truth which was already dearer to him than
life. He purposed to turn to account that one talent in retirement,
without quitting his study. That is what he was then doing at Geneva.
He was steadily engaged in translating into French his ‘_little book_,’
the _Institution Chrétienne_, which he hoped ere long to send to his
friends in France.[375] The letter mentioned in the note shows clearly
that the _Institution Chrétienne_ was first written in Latin.

Farel wished for more: he desired Calvin to become, at Geneva,
pastor, preacher, and doctor. The young man refused this threefold
function. The office of pastor would have required him to take part
in the government of the Church, and he was not willing to do so. As
to the office of preacher, we have the most positive testimony of his
contemporaries and of his most intimate friends that, in the fresh
glow of his faith, he had simply undertaken the task of an evangelist
in some districts of France. But the post which was offered to him at
Geneva would have compelled him to mix more or less in public affairs
and in the debates of the councils. He trembled at the thought, and
wished rather to confine himself strictly within the bounds of that
literary and theological life which he loved so well. He consented
therefore to dwell in the city, not for the purpose of preaching, but
to read in theology.[376] He went even further. ‘I would not,’ he said,
‘bind myself to undertake an official charge.’[377] He consented to
make trial of teaching, but without any title or any engagement, and
thus reserved to himself perfect liberty. Probably no one ever entered
as he did on a career at once painful and brilliant without suspecting
its results, and even rejecting it with his utmost energy.

[Sidenote: CHURCH DISCIPLINE.]

Calvin commenced his work as Reader in the Holy Scriptures at Geneva,
or, as he styles himself, Professor of Sacred Literature in the
Genevese Church. His lectures were delivered not in any house or in
any academic hall, but in the cathedral itself, a circumstance which
invested his teaching with an importance of which Calvin had certainly
not dreamed. The doors were opened for this novel service in the
afternoon, and the Genevese, who felt the need of substantial teaching,
crowded to hear the young doctor. He expounded several books of the
New Testament, particularly the Epistles. One characteristic of his
manner of teaching at Geneva from the first was the combination of
simplicity and solidity. A new light was then rising. It was not,
to be sure, the sun in its brightness. The timidity and the shyness
which Calvin attributes to himself may well have shown themselves in
his first attempts. The _Commentaries_ on the New Testament, which he
published at a later period, have a completeness which his earliest
expositions could not attain. But they are a sufficiently faithful
representation of the kind of teaching which he adopted at St. Peter’s
church. It was not grammatical and etymological explanation of the
text; nor was it, on the other hand, a pathetic discourse. Calvin set
forth in clear light everything in the Scriptures which characterizes
the Christian doctrine and life. He first meditated on his subject,
then delivered his lectures extempore; and the animated and powerful
individuality of the master imparted to them an influence which carried
away and multiplied his hearers. It was not in his nature to do a
merely intellectual task. He consoled, he exhorted, he censured. But
his chief aim was to illustrate the labor of love which Jesus Christ
had accomplished, and to make known its necessity and grandeur. Two
points in the Christian doctrine especially struck him, the one dark
and mournful, the other bright like sunshine. ‘Our souls,’ said he,
‘are an abyss of iniquity, so that we are compelled to have recourse to
the fountain of all good, which is Jesus Christ.’[378]

[Sidenote: CHURCH DISCIPLINE.]

The exposition, defence, and application of the great facts of
Christianity formed the substance of Calvin’s work at Geneva and in
Christendom. It is a mistake to suppose that his principal business was
the introduction and the maintenance of discipline in the Church. It is
not to be doubted that he wished for order: that he wished absolutely
for a Christian way of life; but it was not he who, as some believe,
first introduced measures of discipline, nor was the maintenance of
those measures the task of his life. Speaking of them,[379] he defends
himself from the charge of being their author. ‘I observe and do
whatsoever I have found,’ said he, ‘as one who takes no pleasure in
making any innovation.’ It was the magistrate, who, being in Geneva
head both of the Church and of the state, prescribed and enforced the
laws of discipline. Before Calvin’s arrival at Geneva, we have seen how
De la Rive was sentenced to banishment for having his child baptized
by a priest. The year before some men, women, and magistrates had
been condemned to the _crotton_ (black hole) for immorality. At the
moment at which this stranger, whose name even was hardly known, had
just crossed the threshold of the city--on the eve of the day on which
Farel was to introduce him to the magistrate (Monday, September 4,
1536)--a remarkable scene was taking place in the Council of the Two
Hundred, which seems placed at that epoch as if on purpose to resolve
distinctly the question which engages our attention. ‘Gentlemen,’ said
the syndics, ‘we have all pledged ourselves in public council to live
according to the Gospel, and nevertheless there are some here who do
not go to preaching.’ At these words the councillor and former syndic
Richardet, a fine, tall, and powerful man, but very passionate, rose
in wrath and exclaimed with loud voice, ‘Nobody shall lord it over my
conscience; and I will not go to sermon at the bidding of a Syndic
Porral.’[380] Porral, a man of highly cultivated mind and a very
active magistrate, had declared himself decisively for the Reform,
and he was even charged to prosecute certain classes of delinquents.
It had been enacted, on July 24, that those who refused to go to the
preaching must quit the city in ten days. Richardet was not alone in
his resolution. The question having been put to J. Philippe and two
other councillors whether they would attend the preaching of the Word
of God, ‘We will not be compelled,’ they said, ‘but will live in our
liberty.’ These citizens were right in maintaining their liberty, and
the magistrates were in the wrong. Calvin was far away from Geneva on
July 24; and, generally speaking, he was not of so peremptory a temper
as some imagine. There was a certain sphere in which he maintained
liberty, and maintained it even against powerful adversaries. ‘Touching
ceremonies,’ thus he wrote to the formidable lords of Berne, ‘they are
things indifferent, and the churches are free to adopt a diversity of
them.’[381] Still, we cannot deny it, Calvin thought--and these are his
own words--that since there is no house, however small it be, which
can be maintained in its proper state without discipline, it is much
more requisite in the Church, which ought to be better ordered than
any house. He went further. He asserted that the state has the right
and is bound to take notice of matters of discipline, and to punish
transgressors. It is to be regretted that the fine genius of Calvin did
not make an exception in this case to the rule adopted ten centuries
earlier by all Christendom, and that he did not convince the state that
its heavy hand must not intervene in matters of religion. It is however
fair to ask ourselves whether, in the sixteenth century, such an effort
would not have been a superhuman task.

Calvin himself made known to us his own thought when he said, ‘THE
DOCTRINE OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST IS THE SOUL OF THE CHURCH.’[382]
He set forth that doctrine in the church of St. Peter just as it is
found in Scripture, and so diffused it in the world. Certainly it was
not by discipline that he made his conquests. He bore the torch of
truth. Devoid of ambition, having no designs reaching beyond Geneva,
without any secret policy such as the Jesuits are skilled in, and
armed with one weapon only, the truth, he triumphed over the greatest
difficulties. Farel, Viret, Beza would not have sufficed. In this man
of feeble constitution and humble aspect there were an unquenchable
resolution, an energetic will. _He held fast, as seeing him who is
invisible._ Established in this small town, he became God’s instrument,
first for the spread of the Reformation in the West, then for defending
it against the attacks of Rome and Loyola and Philip II. A new time was
born for the world.

Nevertheless it was not Calvin alone, as some appear to believe,
who effected this great revolution. Had he come into the midst of a
people indolent and effeminate, such victories would not have been
won. But the Genevese had been preparing for centuries, by means of
the struggles which they had gone through, for the maintenance of
their liberty. A life of toil, incessant industry, and rude combats
had inured them to blows. Their souls had been elevated. They were
naturally keen and decisive; but that iron, already brilliant, had
acquired by tempering an inflexible hardness. The heroism of the
Huguenots of Geneva became one of the elements which contributed to
the triumph of the Reformation. The character of those strong men was
as essential to the work as coal is for the conversion of iron into
steel. It was not Calvin the individual, it was Geneva in its entirety,
that vanquished Rome. The energy of the Bertheliers, the Lévriers,
and of many others, was one of the ingredients of the moral energy
of which Geneva became the hearth, and which had almost disappeared
from history. The most earnest of the Genevese Huguenots joined the
reformer; the masses supported him; and some Frenchmen who had passed
through the sieve of persecution, worthy also to be called Huguenots,
gave the hand to the sons of Geneva. And when, after achieving its
triumph, the Reformation found itself attacked by a numerous and
powerful army, assembled under the banners of kings, of Ignatius
Loyola, and the pope, Geneva and the men of her school, who were found
in all parts of Christendom, were able to resist the hostile force, and
to say to it, ‘No further shalt thou go!’

[Sidenote: CALVIN RETAINED AT GENEVA.]

There was, indeed, in the struggle for the renewal of Christendom, one
will which conceived, one personality which acted, one voice which
resounded with a force till then almost unknown, and in a thousand
directions: it was, next to Luther’s, that of Calvin. But while a great
general is indispensable in the day of battle, so also is an army
trained by him for energetic conflict. The part which Geneva played
in the sixteenth century is not explained by the character of one man
alone, but by many concurrent circumstances both moral and political.
That army, created by a vivifying breath from on high, was soon in
action wherever a struggle became necessary. Those soldiers went forth
into the world, braved danger, displayed their colors, and proclaimed
salvation, until at length Rome gave them the martyr’s death, and
God gave them the crown of immortality. CALVIN and the HUGUENOTS, that
is the great motto of the sixteenth century.

Farel, as we have seen, had taken on himself the responsibility
of enrolling the young doctor and of opening to him the church of
St. Peter. Charmed with Calvin’s method of exposition of the Holy
Scriptures, that veteran champion of the Reformation expressed his
opinion on the subject to the magistrates. On Tuesday, September 5,
1536, the day after the famous altercation respecting religious liberty
had taken place in the Council of the Two Hundred, William Farel
appeared before the council and gave an account of the teaching of the
young foreigner, which some of the members of that body had probably
attended, and added--‘The lectures which this Frenchman[383] has begun
at St. Peter’s are very necessary. I therefore entreat you to retain
him and to make provision for his maintenance.’ The council determined
to advise that the stranger, whose name was not even uttered, should be
retained. Many had seen him. The pale countenance, the spare form, the
modest bearing, the timorous air of this refugee of twenty-seven, had
not given the impression of his being a person of note. The council did
not even make him a present of a dress or anything of the kind, as it
was customary to do. It waited, no doubt, to see whether it was worth
while. The man whose name was shortly to fill the city and the whole
Christian world, entered almost _incognito_ into Geneva. Every one was
at that time thinking of Farel. On September 8 that reformer, ‘having
addressed a remonstrance to the council,’ it was resolved ‘that since
the writings of the aforesaid Guillaume _are so divine_, he should
preach at six o’clock in the morning in the church of St. Germain, and
that the councillors should be bound to attend there, and pass thence,
at seven, into the council.’[384]

Calvin’s lectures were soon interrupted. At the end of September,
Farel with his young friend as his assistant quitted Geneva to go to
Lausanne, whither an urgent duty called them. An important assembly was
going to be held in the chief city of the Pays de Vaud.

Farel, Viret, and other evangelists, as already related, had introduced
the Reformation into such parts of that country as were subject to
the Swiss cantons; but the other parishes of that fair land had
still remained subject to the pope. Meanwhile Luther’s writings were
everywhere circulated, the eyes of the people began to be opened,
and several evangelists, particularly Jean Lecomte, a gentleman of
Picardie, had preached the Gospel in various places. The occupation
of the country by the Bernese, on occasion of the expedition which
delivered Geneva in 1536, hastened the fall of Roman Catholicism. When
the Bernese had taken Yverdon with the sword, they transformed the
church of that town in a somewhat soldierly fashion. They bluntly put
an end to the exercise of the Romish religion; appointed Malingre to
be minister; on March 15 had their religious ordinances published;
burnt, March 17, the images out of the churches in the market-place,
and ordered the ministers to preach in temples cleared of those
abominations. Lecomte, Tissot, Meige, and other evangelists introduced
the Reform, but by the spiritual means of preaching, at Cossonay,
Montagny, Yvonand, Sainte-Croix, and other places. Avenches and Lutry
showed themselves decidedly Catholic, and they determined that if by
any chance a minister should go there, they would not go to hear him.

[Sidenote: THE GOSPEL IN THE PAYS DE VAUD.]

In March 1536, as Viret and Fabry were passing near Yverdon during the
siege of that town by the Bernese army, some Lausannese officers who
were serving in it and who were acquainted with Viret, stopped him and
said, ‘When Yverdon is taken, we shall go to Lausanne: come with us
and preach the Gospel there in spite of the bishop.’ They did so. The
amiable and discreet Viret would have been ill pleased to see Lausanne
reformed by the military method, like Yverdon. He preferred the sword
of the Spirit to that of the Bernese soldiery. He would choose that, in
the sloping streets of that city and within its beautiful cathedral,
the still small voice should be heard, and not the hissing of the
tempest and the crash of thunder. He preached therefore the ‘glad
tidings of great joy,’ and preached them with success, in the church
of the convent of St. Francis. The Canons complained bitterly to the
council. ‘A strange thing this,’ they said, ‘to see in Lausanne _two_
preachers at a time! A whole multitude of do-nothing monks, well and
good! But two preachers of Jesus Christ, what useless waste!’ ‘The less
preaching there is the better,’ said the friends of Rome. ‘The more
preaching the better,’ said the friends of the Gospel. If the Canons
did their duty, remarked some one, instead of two preachers we should
have thirty.[385] The burgesses, as usual, took a middle course which
must fail to satisfy either one party or the other. They resolved that
the evangelists should preach in the church of Mary Magdalene, but
without removing the altars, the fonts, the organs, the images, and
other decorations, ‘which did no harm to anybody,’ said the burgesses;
and that the friars of the Dominican order should also celebrate in the
same church the Roman Catholic service in the usual way.[386] That is
what the great Saxon reformer called ‘trying to bring together Luther
and the pope.’

[Sidenote: IMAGE WORSHIP.]

Viret therefore preached in that church. But when Lent was come, the
Dominican Monbouson began to discourse in the cathedral, and maintained
their Romish traditions with violence and plenty of lying. Viret was
informed of it, and as he thought that the best way to refute the
papal doctrine was to make it distinctly known, he put in writing the
assertions of the friar and called upon him publicly to defend them,
announcing that he was prepared to reply to him. Monbouson felt strong
enough to maintain his thesis when he stood surrounded by a whole
phalanx of scholastic doctors and had nobody to contradict him, but he
grew pale in the presence of the young Viret. ‘Ah,’ said he, ‘I would
gladly do what you propose at Avignon, at Paris, or at Dôle; but at
Lausanne there is nobody capable of judging of the matter.’--‘You ought
then to preach only at Dôle, Paris, or Avignon,’ replied Viret; ‘but
since you have lied at Lausanne, it is at Lausanne that satisfaction
is due.’ Then the friar, anxious to get out of his embarrassment,
withdrew in the quietest manner and disappeared.[387] The reformed
Christians did not think, with those gentlemen of Lausanne, that
images, altars, etc., did nobody any harm. They believed that the
paintings did harm. They believed that the people, thanks to the
images, made for themselves many minor gods before which they bent
their knees in order to obtain this or that favor, or the healing of
this or that malady: that the visible made them forget the invisible:
that it was frightful to think that, every time some simple soul
came to worship God in his temple, those figures of saints became
occasions of falling or of scandal. ‘Alas!’ they said, ‘how many
poor creatures called to be children of God have been made by those
images children of the devil!’ Those, therefore, of the reformed of
Lausanne, in whose judgment the pictures of saints and angels seduced
and almost inevitably led astray the weak, began to stir in the matter.
Commencing with the church of the Magdalene, they removed the images
and the altars and broke or burnt them. Then betaking themselves
to the church of St. Francis, they did the same there, and counted
themselves happy in thus keeping the commandment, _Thou shalt have
no other gods before me_. The old folk of Lausanne, who were already
disconsolate at being left without a bishop, were still more distressed
when they found themselves deprived of their images and their masses;
and they sent deputies to Berne to complain of it. The Bernese council
listened to them with all politeness, and dismissed them with good
words. Lausanne then sent another deputation, consisting of twelve
persons of distinction. At Berne they were asked, ‘What is it that you
want?’ ‘Two masses weekly,’ they replied, according to a Lausannese
manuscript.[388] If the statement is true, the request was certainly
very moderate for zealous Catholics. The concession was made to
them, but it was coupled with the condition that they should provide
ministers for all the churches that asked for them. At the same time
they gave them to understand that it would be well to hold at Lausanne
a great disputation on religion, in order to decide between Rome and
Reform. That was a good deal to ask for the two masses which were
granted them.

The Bernese, indeed, were anxious that the Vaudois, whose country they
had recently conquered, should attach themselves to the Reformation.
It was no doubt partly from a regard to political interests that they
wished this, but they did not overlook the interest of religion.
Be that as it may, the reformation of religion in that country was
a source of great prosperity both temporal and spiritual. The Pays
de Vaud was to offer the stranger, at a later time, not only those
beauties of nature which excite our admiration, but still more,
numerous examples of sincere and vital piety, which is far sweeter
and pleasanter than its lakes, and more sublime than its peaks and
glaciers. The seed which was scattered at the epoch of the Reformation,
in its valleys and on its mountains, was truly the Word of God; and one
cannot but see there the fulfilment of that ancient oracle, _He that
soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap everlasting life_.

The conversion of Yverdon had been somewhat checked by the siege which
the town had sustained. The lords of Berne wished in general to employ,
like Viret, evangelical means; to reveal to their new subjects the
grosser superstitions under whose yoke they had been held, and to give
them the knowledge of the truth. For that end they resolved to appoint
first a public disputation such as had been held at Zurich, Berne,
and Geneva. As soon as the report was circulated in the country that
a great assembly for discussion on matters of faith was to be held at
Lausanne, the priests and their friends were alarmed. The excitement
extended to all the villages. The friends of the papacy expected to see
black clouds gathering on the horizon, and a violent storm presently
burst on the old ship which had carried their fathers, and make it
founder, thus engulfing in the depths of the sea all the traditions of
their doctrine and all the pomps of their worship. They determined to
do everything in their power to oppose such an assembly, and they wrote
to the bishop and to the council at Friburg, to the pope and to the
emperor.

[Sidenote: A DISPUTATION APPOINTED.]

The cry of distress which they uttered was heard. The council of
Friburg sent a deputation to Berne to oppose the projected meeting.
Charles V., who was then in Italy, addressed a letter to the council
of _his imperial city_, requiring it ‘to prevent that disputation as
well as any change in matters of faith, to restore everything to its
former state, to allow nothing contrary to the tenor of his edicts, and
to await quietly the council.’ This missive was dated from Savigliano,
July 3, 1536.[389]

It was evident that the country had arrived at a critical pass, and
that it was necessary to find some way of escape. The remedy proposed
by the priests and the monks was,--to draw back. They assailed the
Reformation from the pulpit, and they hurried from house to house and
circulated in the streets the most outrageous reports against the
reformed and the Reformation. Some of them opposed the disputation by
asserting that ‘the ministers are magicians who have in their service
a multitude of demons by means of which they bewitch their hearers.’
Other priests made up their mind to put a good face on the matter.
They blustered a good deal; they bragged of having already won many
a victory over their adversaries. ‘Let them only give us permission
to contend with them in a regular discussion,’ they said, ‘and we are
strong enough to beat them.’[390]

The council of Berne no longer hesitated. Without awaiting the possible
decision of the emperor, they issued, July 16, an edict in opposition
to the orders of Charles. ‘We desire,’ the edict ran, ‘that the people
of our territories, (which by the grace of God we have justly acquired
by conquest,) should walk with all their hearts in the way which our
Lord has commanded. Nevertheless that has not been done, and even gross
insults have been offered to the preachers and to those who wished to
follow the Gospel. Desirous of putting in order all these confused
affairs, we enjoin all priests and monks, as well as the preachers,
to present themselves at Lausanne, on October 1 next, for the purpose
of proving what they believe, freely and frankly, by argument on the
grounds of Holy Scripture. We address this appeal not only to those
of our own territories, but to all comers and goers, of whatsoever
nation they be, and we promise them safe-keeping. We further order that
our priests and preachers attend the assembly from its opening to its
close, without default, and under pain of our indignation.’[391]

A few days after the edict of Berne, some Savoyard ambassadors, on
their way to the diet of Berne, delivered the emperor’s letter to
the council of Lausanne. That body having laid on the table side by
side the epistle of his Catholic majesty and the edict of the lords
of Berne, found themselves, to their great dismay, placed between the
anvil and the hammer. Pressed thus by the two conflicting parties,
they foresaw nothing but calamity whether they resisted the one or
the other. The imperial document was read to the general council July
23. Its members, the majority of whom were attached to the Romish
Church, thought that the wisest plan was to obey the most powerful,
and therefore, sheltering themselves under the order of the great
potentate, they enacted that the parties should live peaceably
together, but that no innovation should be made until after the
decision of the council. At the same time a deputation set out for
Berne in order to prevent the disputation. But all was useless. Berne
was stronger than the Emperor Charles V. That prince was in Italy, and
the absent are in the wrong.




                              CHAPTER II.

                     THE DISPUTATION AT LAUSANNE.

                           (OCTOBER, 1536.)


[Sidenote: THE DISPUTATION AT LAUSANNE.]

The disputation of Lausanne inaugurates with a certain grandeur the
Reformation of the Vaudois. Some look upon it as merely a Bernese
project. But that imposing assembly, among whose speakers were all or
nearly all the reformers of western Switzerland; at which the great
evangelical questions were discussed; and by means of which some of
those who were present were converted; is evidence that the Reform
was truly the work of God. The Reformation had begun in that country,
obscurely and modestly, in some districts on the banks of the Rhone,
on the shores of the lake of Neuchâtel, and in others besides. It now
announced itself with power, and the mass of the people were going to
embrace it. Men discourse much in books about the beautiful. We find
true beauty, Christian beauty, evangelical, inward, more veiled perhaps
than that of the world, but more pure and more solid, in the doctrine
then proclaimed at Lausanne, and often in the manner in which it was
set forth, although we have to make allowance for the time. We find it
in the Farels, the Calvins, the Virets and other heroic men of that
epoch, who lived with God, who were unwearied in their work, and were
always ready to give their lives for the truth which they proclaimed.
That synod was a beautiful portico erected to lead men into a temple of
divine beauty.

[Sidenote: PREPARATIONS AT LAUSANNE.]

Farel was preparing for the disputation; and on the Roman Catholic
side there was much ado to find valiant champions. At Lausanne there
was no canon, no priest, no monk who came forward to defend the
doctrine by which till that day they had lived. It was necessary to
beat to arms elsewhere. They did so; and at the end of September
the Dominican Monbouson, Michod dean of Vevey, the vicars Drogy
and Berrilly, and others besides, arrived, in the town. Two laymen
alone represented Lausanne, the captain of the youth,[392] Fernand
de Loys, and the French physician Blancherose. The latter was ‘_un
homme tenant de la lune_’ (something of a lunatic), said the Catholic
Pierrefleur, ‘who blends in his discussions medicine and theology, and
excites boundless merriment.’ Viret, Marcourt, and Lecomte appeared
for the reformed. From Geneva came Chapuis, a former Dominican, then
pastor at Compesières, and Jacques Bernard, formerly superior of the
Cordeliers. But the man who chiefly attracted attention was Farel, who
was accompanied by a young man pale and modest, unknown by sight to
most, and who appeared to be his assistant. It was John Calvin. Farel
had urged him to come to Lausanne, but Calvin shrank from the thought
of speaking in that great assembly. Still he was deeply interested in
its proceedings. ‘The Senate of Berne,’ said he, ‘has declared that
everyone is at liberty to state his objections freely, without need to
fear being disturbed in consequence of it. That is the fittest means
of exposing the ignorance of those who set themselves against the
Gospel.’[393] These two men had set out in company with the Syndic
Porral, and they arrived with many others at the cathedral, in which
the disputation was to be held. An amphitheatre had been constructed.
The altars, pictures, statues, and rich ornaments of the Romish worship
still displayed their magnificence; and even the canons, who were
determined to keep silence, but nevertheless wished to do something,
had brought out of their hiding-places the image of the holy Virgin and
all those of the saints, trusting more, it would seem, to the eloquence
of those dumb figures than to their own.

On the side of the Reformation there was no other preparation but
some simple evangelical theses drawn up by Farel, and affixed to the
doors of all the churches. They were entitled, ‘Conclusions which are
to be discussed at Lausanne, a new province of Berne.’ In the form of
ten articles it was declared,--that Holy Scripture teaches no other
justification than that which is by faith in Jesus Christ, once for
all offered in sacrifice--that it acknowledges no other head, priest,
saviour, or mediator of the Church than Jesus Christ, seated at the
right hand of God;--that it gives the name ‘Church of God’ only to
the assembly of those who believe in their redemption by Jesus Christ
alone. The other seven articles established the sacraments of baptism
and the Lord’s supper--the ministry of the Word of God--confession
made to God--absolution coming from God--spiritual service rendered
to God, such as is ordained by the Word, and without the infinite
mockeries which pervert religion--the civil magistrate ordained of God
to maintain the peace of the Republic--marriage a divine institution
for any class whatsoever--and the free use, so it be with charity, of
things indifferent.[394]

On Sunday, October 1, all the bells were set a-going, and a great crowd
filled the cathedral. But the lords of Berne, in whose presence the
disputation was to take place, had not yet arrived. It was a great
disappointment. However, the opening took place on Sunday, although
the discussion only began on Monday. It was Farel, the senior of the
French reformers, the great champion of the Gospel in the district of
Geneva, Vaud, and Neuchâtel, that Christian man, at once so learned and
so pious, so devout and so active, who made the first speech, in which
his design was to prepare the minds of those present for a becoming
and Christian conference.[395] He said,--‘While Satan leads the sheep
astray in order to destroy them, our Lord seeks to bring them back
to his holy flock in order to save them. We shall never attain real
unity except by means of the truth. A safe-conduct has therefore been
given to all, to go and come, to speak and to hear, as shall seem good
to them, for the truth must not be hidden. May it be the truth that
wins the day! If I myself were wholly vanquished and put to confusion,
while the truth had its triumph, I should count that the greatest gain
and the best possible victory. Let all therefore, whether priests
or preachers, have respect to the great shepherd Jesus Christ, who
gave his body and his blood for the poor people. Let us prefer to be
nothing, if only the poor sheep, gone so far astray, may find the right
way, may come to Jesus and give themselves to God. That will be better
than if we should gain all the world and lose those for whom Jesus
died. If any man will exalt himself against Jesus, if any man will
light against the faith, it would be better for him if he had never
been born. Let us not despise our neighbor. Let us not mock him. Let
us not shut the door of the kingdom of heaven and take away the key of
knowledge. Let us be free from all hatred and rancor. Let us love all
men, pray for all men, do good to all men. Let us visit the poor and
the afflicted, that is the true pilgrimage. Those little ones are the
images of God, and it is to those images that we ought to resort, to
them that we should carry food and candles.... My dear brethren, when
you hear the bell ring, present yourselves here in God’s name, in peace
and unity, without disturbance or murmuring.’ This was indeed a good
and Christian address, and after hearing it the assembly dispersed.

[Sidenote: FAREL’S DISCOURSE.]

On Monday, October 2, at seven o’clock in the morning, the cathedral
was again filled, and ‘as soon as the shrill sound of the bell had
ceased, there appeared on the platform the ambassadors of Berne,’ J.
J. de Watteville, formerly _avoyer_,[396] J. de Diesbach, and the
_baillifs_ of Yverdon and Lausanne. They were easily recognized by
their red and black doublets, skirts, and hose. The council of Geneva
had sent as its representative the Syndic A. Porral, a warm friend
of Reform. Presidents were chosen from among the men of Berne and
Lausanne. Then Farel rose and read his first thesis, which treated of
man’s justification before God, developed and proved it.

When he had finished, the vice-bailiff of Lausanne said aloud, ‘If
any man has aught to say against these first conclusions, let him
come forward and we shall willingly listen to him.’ The canons of the
cathedral then rose, who were determined not to carry on but to prevent
the discussion, and one of them, Perrini, said, ‘When doubts arise
respecting the faith, they must be resolved according to the true sense
of the Scriptures. Now, that is lawful only to the Church universal,
which is not liable to error. Therefore, we, the provost and canons of
this church, do solemnly protest against this controversy, and refer it
to the next council.’[397]

This proposal not to proceed was inadmissible. The courageous Farel
opposed it. ‘It is nowhere asserted in the Scripture,’ said he, ‘that
any particular Church is liable to error and that the universal Church
is exempt from it. On the contrary, it is to a particular Church that
Jesus Christ addresses the words, _Where two or three are gathered
together in my name, there am I in the midst of them_. This promise
cannot fail. The Canons refrained from accusing by their protest all
the early doctors and the holy fathers, for whom they make pretence of
so much reverence. We find in fact, in the writings of those ancients,
only particular disputations, held for the purpose of examining
articles at that time controverted. There are ten such articles in
Cyprian, and twenty or thereabouts, in Augustine. If they accuse us,
who are now assembled here, how shall they defend their own provincial
councils, their monks’ chapters, all their schools and Sorbonnes, in
which they hold conferences for the research of truth? Most of those
whom they have condemned as heretics were not condemned in a general
council, but in some particular assembly. Paul, speaking with reference
to churches as they were, scattered in towns or villages, said, _Let
the prophets speak two or three, and let the other judge_. (1 Cor. xiv.
29.)

‘And how do these reverend gentlemen prove that the Church general
cannot err? This is their pretty assertion, invented too by them,
according to their excellent custom. They say that our Lord prayed
for St. Peter that his faith might not fail. Who then has revealed
to them the fact, either asleep or awake, that Peter is the Church
universal? If it were indeed represented by St. Peter, then it would
follow that the Church universal may, in one single day, three times
deny Jesus Christ, as Peter did so after that word had been spoken to
him. If an assembly of the Church universal were the only body capable
of resolving doubts, then all the martyrs of Jesus Christ, who in the
first three centuries set the seal with their blood to the truth of the
Gospel, would have suffered death for things doubtful, for the Church
universal had not yet been assembled in general council.

[Sidenote: THE DISPUTATION.]

‘If there be now a universal council which pretends to infallibility,
let it then show us that it assembles _in the name of Jesus_! A holy
company indeed is that of the pope and his cardinals! Fair pillars of
the church are bishops and prelates! Great zealots for the faith are
the monks! It is greatly to be doubted whether, if all that multitude
were thoroughly sifted, one man among them would be found deserving to
be called a true member of the Church of Christ! It is of men who are
all trying to get the benefices and the dignities of the Church that a
general council consists, and this calls itself the Church universal.
Ah! to secure their wealth, their honor, and their gain, they would be
ready not only to trample in the dust the word of Jesus Christ, but
they would go further and put himself to death, if he were present
in his own person. Such is the fine band with whom, if we take their
word, the Holy Spirit dwells! If any man offer to contend with them on
reasonable grounds, proceedings will be taken against him to punish him
for his audacity, and, as was the case at the council of Constance, he
will be condemned and burnt.’[398]

Thus spake Farel. We may perhaps think some of his remarks severe, but
if we take into account the time, the form of his speech is certainly
not amiss, and the substance of it is unanswerable. After that
discourse, the Dominican Monbouson and the reformer Viret argued on the
same subject till eleven o’clock. Then the call was heard, ‘Retire for
dinner,’ and the meeting broke up. In the afternoon the old priests and
monks of Thonon, who had bragged that they would put the ministers to
confusion, were in the assembly. Fabry, who was well acquainted with
Thonon and its clergy, invited them to speak. Not one of them did so.
Two of them declared that they believed the theses to be true, and most
of the others contented themselves with giving their adhesion to the
protest of the canons.

On Tuesday, October 3, Dr. Blancherose (of whom it was said _il tenait
de la lune_) addressed the assembly. Even if the clergy were silent he
thought himself quite competent to maintain his cause. ‘Magnificent
and mighty lords,’ he began, ‘I am a physician; my profession is that
of medicine, not that of theology.’ To which Farel politely answered,
‘To be a physician does not at all clash with true theology. St. Luke
was a physician likewise.’--‘I have taught,’ said Blancherose, ‘in many
cities and universities of France; moreover, I was once physician to
the king, and afterwards to the princess of Orange.’ He then began to
set forth strange theories on what he called the _monarchies_ of the
Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Caroli was present. It is known
that this inconsistent and whimsical man was sometimes a Papist and
sometimes a Protestant. For the moment he was Protestant. So he raised
the cry, just as if he were with a hunting party, ‘A hare started out
of the Donatist warren!’ The priests themselves were not particularly
pleased with their lay companion in arms. Mimard, therefore,
schoolmaster of Vevey, and Jacques Drogy, vicar of Morges, hastened to
the rescue, hoping to retake from the enemy what he had carried off.
But their attempt had no great success.

Drogy renewed his speech on Wednesday, October 4. He must have
known well what kind of life was led by many priests, monks, and
laymen, who at the same time that they were doing everything to save
themselves by legal works, found therein a support, and, so to say, an
indulgence, for giving themselves up unscrupulously to an impure life.
Nevertheless, he showed that he was greatly alarmed, and no doubt
sincerely, at the dangers to which the doctrine of justification by
faith alone would expose the work of sanctification. He therefore said,
‘If you say that a man is justified by faith and not by works, people
will not take the trouble to live well.’ Drogy was seeking light. The
sayings of the reformers had disturbed him, and all that he desired was
to see the truth clearly.

[Sidenote: THE CHURCH AND THE SCRIPTURES.]

Caroli, once Romanist and now Protestant, whose inconsistencies we
have seen and shall again see, spoke on this occasion with fairness.
As doctor of the Sorbonne and a man of intelligence, he was well
acquainted with the doctrine; only he did not walk according to its
teaching. He rose and said, ‘To allege that works must be partners in
justification is to enervate Jesus Christ; that is, to say that he
alone is not sufficient to justify us. If a man be absolved through
faith, it is certainly not in order that he may again begin doing evil.
Just as when a king grants a pardon, it is not that the man may repeat
his offence. God forgives all my offences only in order that I may do
good works. Are you not yourselves in the habit of saying to a dying
man, God is a greater _pardoner_ than man is an offender? The death of
Jesus is more effectual in the punishment of sin than the death of all
mankind.’[399]

The laity were ashamed to see their cause so ill defended by their
priests. The captain of the youth of Lausanne, Fernand de Loys,
therefore entered the lists. He was a clear-headed man; he had learnt
carefully some theses of the Romish theology, and had a little of that
presumption which is frequently seen in the young men of whom he was
one of the chiefs. He came forward, with his baton raised, speaking
bluntly and without palliation. ‘The Church is before the Scripture,
worthier than the Scripture, and invested with higher authority.
Now the Church teaches justification by works.’ Farel, roused by
hearing such assertions, exclaimed, ‘Which is first, the Church or
the Scripture?... Certainly, the Scripture is before the Church. The
Church has its existence through the Word of God; and Jesus himself
proved what he said by reference to the Scriptures.’ Upon this the
physician Blancherose thought he must come to the aid of the captain of
the young men, and said to Farel, ‘In saying so much of faith, and in
making it the cause of all good, you are very much like the sorcerers
and enchanters, who, through the faith which they have in certain
words, pretend to do so many great and wonderful things.’ Farel, taking
little heed to these jests, said, ‘Jesus was beaten and wounded; he
bore the discipline for our sakes; for us he died.’ The master of the
Catholic school of Vevey, who was present, seems to have had a truer
Christian feeling than his colleagues, and, profiting by Farel’s words,
he said, ‘Precisely so; it is Jesus who justifies us, and not faith.’
This was more serious. Farel therefore supported the first part of the
proposition. In opposing the second part, he said--‘Yes, it is Jesus
alone who justifies; but he justifies only those who receive him by
faith, and he dwells in those who believe. But as for those who do not
believe in him, he is for them only a stone of stumbling and of ruin.’

The truth began to be pursued more closely. The reverend Jean Michod,
of Vevey, who had studied at Paris and was acquainted with the
interpretations of Romish theology, rose and said--‘St. Peter tells
us that there are unlearned persons who pervert the Holy Scriptures
to their own destruction. I have often listened to wise doctors at
Paris, and they all declared that that passage of the Epistle to
the Romans--_A man is justified by faith without the works of the
law_--had reference exclusively to the Jewish _ceremonies_, such as
circumcision.’ Then turning to Caroli, ‘You, sir, our master,’ said
he, ‘I have heard you at Paris, at the College of Cambrai, expound
that passage in the same way.’ That was an _argumentum ad hominem_,
and Michod believed that the circumstances peculiar to the person
himself to whom he addressed it rendered it unanswerable. But Caroli,
who was not deficient in presence of mind, replied, ‘The fact is that
I was at that time one of those unlearned persons of whom St. Peter
speaks in the passage which you have just cited, who _pervert the
Holy Scriptures_. But God has now given me the true understanding of
the matter. I have changed, and it will be well for you to do the
same.’[400]

[Sidenote: THE REAL PRESENCE.]

In the afternoon of the third day they passed to the second thesis,
affirming that Jesus is the only pontiff. As no one raised an
objection, even in favor of the pope, which was a very significant
fact, they went on to the third proposition, respecting the true
Church. _That Church_, it was said, _Christ, who in his corporal
presence has been taken away from us, fills, governs, and vivifies by
his Holy Spirit_. The Roman Catholics took advantage of the thesis to
turn the discussion on the corporal presence. Blancherose, who was
always confident that he could answer everything, rose first, and
began to speak of the sun and of all sorts of things. He undertook to
prove the doctrine of transubstantiation by the example of an egg,
which is converted into a chick, which chick is afterwards eaten by
a man. Viret did not think that strange argument deserving of a very
grave answer. ‘That proof,’ he said, ‘reverses the order of things.
To make it applicable, it would be necessary for the priests to sit
on the object transformed, as hens sit on their eggs.’ Blancherose,
having offered other instances of the same kind, was invited to carry
on the discussion by the Scripture, and not by proofs taken from the
sun, which is everywhere at once, from hens, from their eggs changed
into chicks, and from chickens which are eaten, and from other natural
transformations.

On Thursday, October 5, in the morning, the presidents, offended by
the extravagances of the doctors, and perceiving that the method till
then pursued would entail digressions and interminable prolixity,
announced that, instead of resuming the debate, and with the hope of
shortening the proceedings, the following alternative would be offered
to all canons, abbots, priors, monks, curés, and vicars in the whole
country, as well as to the ministers: ‘Argue, get some one to argue for
you, or subscribe the theses.’ All were then called by name, and those
who declared themselves willing to subscribe passed into the choir.
Megander, a minister of Berne, exhorted them to preach nothing but the
pure Word of God, and after that they were allowed to withdraw if they
wished. But those who declined to adhere to the theses were ordered to
remain to the close of the disputation.

In the afternoon, Mimard appeared with a long manuscript of his own
composition, intended to vindicate the mass. The subject was treated
under thirteen heads, which did not seem to promise much for shortening
the business. Mimard was, at any rate, a serious speaker, although
a little dull and rather prolix. ‘Do you pretend,’ he said, ‘to be
wiser and more enlightened by the Holy Spirit than the holy doctors,
St. Augustine, St. Jerome, St. Ambrose, and St. Gregory, who all
believed in the real presence? If you reject them as unlearned, it is
merely because they are opposed to you.’ Farel replied on the thirteen
heads, without omitting one of them. What was said by each of the two
champions may easily be imagined. The subject has already been so
frequently brought forward that it is needless to spend more time over
it now. But there was present in the assembly one young theologian,
who rejoiced to hear his friends defending the true doctrine, and
who by reason of his youth and his modesty had been kept silent till
that time. It was Calvin. For four days he had sat there without
speaking, contenting himself with the part of a hearer. But he had a
brave heart. That Ambrose, that Augustine, those other doctors, he was
well acquainted with them. He knew their words by heart. They were
his friends, and he could not stand by and see them insulted by being
ranked with the pope’s army. He could not be silent any longer; his
heart burnt within him, and he felt impelled to defend the principles
which were brought to light by the Reformation. But he wished also to
restore to those great men of Christian antiquity, and above all to his
beloved Augustine, the honor which was due to them. This was the first
occasion on which Calvin took part in any of the great discussions of
the time, and it is worth while to listen to him.

[Sidenote: SPEECH OF CALVIN.]

‘I have abstained from speaking till this moment,’ he said, ‘and it
was my intention to abstain to the end, perceiving that any speech of
mine was unnecessary, because my brethren Farel and Viret have made
sufficient reply. But the reproach which you have uttered against us
with regard to the ancient doctors compels me to show again briefly how
grievously you err in accusing us on this point.

‘We despise them and reject them altogether, you say, and that because
we find them opposed to our cause. Verily, all the world, we own, might
esteem us not only rash men, but arrogant beyond measure, if we held
in derision such servants of God, and considered them _asses_, as you
say we do. Those who make pretence of holding them in great reverence,
frequently honor them less than we do, and would not deign to employ
in reading their works the time which we gladly devote to it. But we
do not exalt their authority to such a height as to allow it to lessen
the dignity of the Word of the Lord, to which, exclusively, entire
obedience ought to be given in the Church of Christ. We should fear
being found rebels against that Word of the Lord which asks whether
his people ought not to be content with _his voice_, and which adds,
_without hearing either the living or the dead_. Yes, we do rest in
his sacred Word, and we fasten on it our hearts, our understandings,
our eyes, our ears, without turning aside to the right hand or to the
left. _If any one speak_, says Peter, _let him speak as the oracles of
God_; we therefore teach the people of Jesus not human doctrines, but
heavenly wisdom. With the ancient doctors, we seek for God’s truth,
with them we listen to it and keep it with all reverence, reserving to
the Lord this glory, _that his mouth alone be opened in the Church, to
speak with authority_. Let every ear then hear him, and let every soul
be ready to obey him!

‘As to your assertion that we despise the fathers because they are not
on our side, it would be easy for me to show that whatever matters are
in controversy between us, that assertion is no more true than your
reproach. But, to confine myself to the subject before us, I will lay
before you only a small number of passages of such a character that
there will be nothing left for you to reply to.’

Calvin had not with him the voluminous works of the fathers; but his
memory was a library abridged. Tertullian, Chrysostom, and the writers
of his time, especially Augustine, came immediately to his aid.
‘Tertullian,’ said he, ‘when refuting Marcion, speaks thus, “Christ
in the supper has left us the _figure_ of his body.” The author of
the commentary on St. Matthew, contained in the works of Chrysostom,
says, “It is a far greater offence to defile ourselves, who are the
true vessels in which God dwells, than to profane the vessels in which
the supper is administered, since that _the real body of Jesus Christ
is not contained in them_, but only the mystery of his body.” St.
Augustine, in his twenty-third Epistle,[401] says, “The bread and the
wine, which are sacraments of the body and blood of Christ, _we call
them in a certain sense_ (_quodammodo_) his body and his blood.” And
in his book against Adimantus, he adds, “The Lord did not hesitate to
say, This is my body, when he gave the _sign of his body_.” Weigh all
these words, every syllable of them if you will, and see whether these
declarations in any way favor your error. When you taunt us with the
charge that the ancients are against us, everybody sees your rashness.
Assuredly, if you had read only a few pages you would not have been
so bold; but you have not even seen the covering of the book. The
foregoing testimonies, which may easily be pointed out, prove it.’

[Sidenote: DOCTRINE OF THE FATHERS.]

At this point, Calvin, wishing to show fully how chimerical the Romish
opinion is, offered one or two considerations which, while they display
his fine intelligence, are not lacking in solidity. ‘It is not without
reason,’ he said, ‘that we reject the foolish opinion which the craft
of Satan introduced into the world. In the supper we certainly eat
the same body of Christ as the apostles ate at its institution, and
it must be either his mortal body or his glorified body. If it be his
mortal body, Jesus is then at this hour mortal and passible, while the
Scripture declares to us that he has laid aside all infirmity. If it
be his immortal and glorified body, Jesus, at the first supper, was in
a certain place (seated at the table) in his mortal and passible body,
and he was in another place (in the hands and mouths of his disciples)
in his immortal and glorified body. The dreams of Marcion were never so
fantastic!...’

Calvin, however, went further and, knowing the importance which Rome
attached to the letter, felt bound to show to what that method leads.
He has explained his own doctrine elsewhere in a more complete manner,
but we must not suppress what he said on this solemn occasion. ‘If you
tie yourselves to words,’ said he, ‘if you so rigorously insist on
these words, _Hoc est corpus meum_, you are compelled by such verbal
strictness to separate the body of the Lord from his blood. For he
said, _This is my body_, pointing to the bread, and when pointing to
the wine, _This is my blood_. Now, to imagine that the body of Christ
was separated from his blood is an abominable thing. I know that you
evade this by what you call the _concomitance_. But do not allege it,
for it is mere mockery. If the real body is in the cup, as you affirm
it to be, the Lord of truth then spoke falsely when he said, _This is
my blood_.

‘No, it is neither the natural body nor the natural blood of our Lord
Jesus which is given to us in the holy supper. But there is a spiritual
communication, by virtue of which he gives to us all the grace that
we can receive from his body and his blood. _Christ makes us truly
participants, but altogether in a spiritual way, by the bond of his
Holy Spirit._ St. Luke and St. Paul write that Jesus said, _This is
the new testament in my blood_; that is to say, the new alliance which
the Father has made with us, blotting out our iniquities by his mercy,
receiving us into his favor that we may be his children, and writing
his law in our hearts by his Spirit; an alliance really new, and
ratified and confirmed by the body and the blood of Jesus Christ.

‘Constrained by reasons so forcible, we interpret the Scripture
according to the true analogy of faith. We do not put glosses on it out
of our own heads, and we give no explanation which is not expressed in
itself.’

[Sidenote: CONVERSION OF JEAN TANDY.]

Calvin was silent. The young man, whose face was unknown but full
of expression, had been listened to with astonishment, and people
recognized in him a master. Everyone felt the force of his words,
and no one raised an objection. ‘At this point,’ say the Acts of the
Disputation, ‘both the Mimards and the Blancheroses remained without
making any attempt to reply.’ The minds of the hearers seemed to be
enlightened by fresh knowledge. This was soon evident.

A monk of the order of Cordeliers, the Franciscan Jean Tandy,[402] who
had been present at the disputation from its opening, listened with
eager interest to Calvin’s speech, and felt that its truth reached him.
His heart was affected, his understanding was satisfied. He embraced by
faith the sacrifice of the Saviour; and, according to the expression
of the Evangelist, he ate of his flesh and drank his blood. For awhile
he sat silent, awaiting the objections which might be offered. But
‘when he saw that those who had taken part in discussion till that hour
had their lips closed,’ he took courage, rose and said, the assembly
listening to him attentively--‘Holy Scripture teaches that there is
no remission for the sin against the Holy Ghost. Now this sin is that
of men who, through unbelief, willing to contend against the clearest
truth, choose rather to exalt themselves against God and his Word than
to humble themselves and obey him. As I desire now not to resist the
truth, but to receive it and confess it openly, I acknowledge before
you all that I have long been mistaken. While I thought that I was
living in a state of perfection, as they had given me to understand, I
have been, on the contrary, only the servant of men, submitting myself
to their traditions and commandments. Nothing is good but that which
God commands. I have heard the truth. I see that I must hold fast to
Jesus alone, must stand to his Word, and must have no other head,
leader, or Saviour, but him who by his sacrifice has made us acceptable
to the Father. I will henceforth live and die according to his Gospel.
I ask forgiveness of God for all that I have done and said against
his honor. I ask pardon of you and of all the people, so far as by my
preaching or by my life I have taught you amiss, or have given you a
bad example. And since, by following the rule of the Cordeliers and
assuming this garb of dissimulation, I have been led out of the right
way, at this moment in which I renounce all superstition, I abandon
also this garb full of all hypocrisy and trumpery.’ As he uttered these
words, Jean Tandy cast off his monastic dress, and then added--

‘Let no one be offended, but let each examine himself and confess that
if the state in which he has lived be contrary to the will of God, he
ought not to persevere in it, nor to reënter after quitting it. I will
live as a Christian, and not as a Cordelier; according to the Gospel of
Jesus, and not according to the rule of the monks; in true and living
faith in Christ, and united with all true Christians. To this God calls
us all, to the intent that, instead of being divided into so many
rules, we may be all one in Jesus Christ.’

This frank, noble, and affecting conversion gave great joy to those
who loved the Gospel, and Farel, as their spokesman, said, ‘How great
God is! how good and how wise! How he smites and heals, how he casts
down to hell and brings up again to heaven, we see with our own eyes.
What superstition is there equal to that of the Cordeliers, in which
the enemy has with so much skill colored his work that even the elect
are deceived! Let us rejoice, therefore, that the poor sheep which was
straying on the mountains and in the deserts, in the midst of wolves
and wild beasts, now, by the grace of the Lord, abandoning the barren
deserts, the vexatious thorns of human traditions, is entering into his
fold, and finds now his pasture in God’s holy Word.’

‘This done,’ add the Acts, ‘because it was late, everyone retired.’[403]

The last theses were discussed during the remaining two or three days,
and for the most part by the same combatants, each of the champions
expressing himself well or ill, according to his character and the
spirit which actuated him. ‘The Lord,’ said the intelligent and
spiritual Viret, ‘commands Peter to _feed his sheep_, but according
to the well-known by-word, the Romish court want _no sheep without
wool_.[404] The true key of the kingdom of heaven is the Gospel of the
Lord, but the pope and his priests have devised others which close the
door instead of opening it. If the pope be willing to imitate Jesus and
Peter, let him then go about hither and thither in every place, seeking
and saving souls. The apostles had no holy see like the Romish pontiff.
They were not often even seated, except, indeed, it were in a prison.
And instead of a triple crown and a chain of gold, they had chains of
iron on their hands and their feet.’[405]

[Sidenote: THE TRINITY OF BLANCHEROSE.]

Dr. Blancherose, who unhesitatingly considered himself the most valiant
of the defenders of Rome, began now to lose heart. His only consolation
was in the thought that if he were beaten it was not for want of
talent, but because he stood alone; and quoting a word of the ancients,
he said, ‘The opponents (reformers) are too strong, and as some one
said, Hercules himself could do nothing against two.’[406] The two, in
his case, were doubtless Farel and Calvin.

He continued to complain of his comrades in the fight. ‘Instead of
aiding me,’ he said, ‘the priests have begged me to begone. There are
six score of us, they added, who will be compelled, if the disputation
is to last much longer, to sell our gowns and hoods to pay our
hosts.’ Then, after this trifling, returning to his grand theses, the
fantastical doctor said, ‘The holy Trinity represents three monarchies.
The father represents the emperor; the Son represents the pope; and
the third monarchy, which is only now beginning, is that of the Holy
Spirit, and _belongs to physicians_.’ Thus he claimed a great part
for himself. This recalled him to his duty, and he applied himself to
matters within his grasp. ‘The time of Lent, in which people fast,’
he said, ‘has been well regulated, because in the spring nature is
awakening, the blood is warm and impels to pleasure, and, moreover,
people have eaten a good deal during the winter.’ The energetic Farel,
who knew as well as the doctor how to be popular and sarcastic, met
him on his own ground, and replied in his medical language, ‘that, on
the contrary, the least fitting season had been fixed for Lent; for in
the spring the poor people work in the fields and the vineyards, and
after having crammed themselves with flesh in the winter, they give
them well-salted, fish, hot spices, etc. This method gives origin to
legions of maladies, so that the priests make their harvest of them and
the doctors their vintage. The sicknesses put money into the purses of
these two classes of men, especially into those of the Romish priests,
according to the anagram of _Roma_. If each letter of that word be
taken as the initial of another word, we get the sentence, _Radix
Omnium Malorum Avaritia_: Rome is avarice, the root of all evil. She
shows this in all kinds of ways, but above all in granting for a money
payment the liberty to eat flesh, which otherwise she prohibits and
declares to be a sin.’[407] It is clear that Farel knew how to profit
by that precept, _Answer a fool according to his folly_.

The vicar of Morges, Drogy, a man more enlightened than the others,
and who saw clearly the weakness of the Romish teaching, apologized
in the best way he could for his comrades, and made excuse for their
defeat. ‘The poor priests are ignorant,’ he said, ‘and they deserve to
be pitied. It is no great glory for the ministers to have beaten them.
What they want is time given them for study, and a long time too; but
instead of that they have been pitilessly bantered.’ ‘Do not take as
insults,’ said the amiable Viret, ‘the charitable admonitions which we
have given them. So far from wishing them any harm, we are ready to
shed our blood for their salvation.’ ‘No doubt,’ added the reformer
Marcourt, who had not hitherto spoken, a man of much good sense, but
somewhat more severe than Viret, ‘no doubt the poor priests deserve
to be pitied, but still more the poor people. No man would intrust a
flock of sheep to a shepherd who was blind and dumb; why then are the
churches placed under leaders who are blind and unable to explain the
Word of God?’[408]

[Sidenote: CALVIN AND HILDEBRAND.]

Calvin then rose to speak again, and without stopping to argue with
the feeble apologists of Rome, who were sufficiently refuted, he
selected for his adversary the most illustrious and the most valiant
of the champions of the papacy, the man who was indeed its chief
founder, Hildebrand, made pope under the name of Gregory VII. These
two men were well fitted to contend with equal strength in the lists.
It is a pity that five centuries stood in the way of their measuring
their forces hand to hand. It was Hildebrand who had launched over
Christendom these stupendous assertions, ‘that the name of the pope
is sole in the world,--that the Romish Church never did err and never
will err,--that the pope may depose the emperor, and that all princes
must kiss his feet.’[409] Calvin frequently contended against these
presumptuous lies,[410] and he had done so before this time, at least
to some extent. On this occasion he made use of a document written
by a cardinal, a contemporary of Hildebrand, which relates, among
other things, that that pope, wanting for once _to get through his
incantations_, took the bread which he affirmed to be God, and threw
it into the fire.[411] An occasion for the natural exclamation, ‘Say
now that the bread is your God!’ This story, told by a cardinal at
the expense of a pope, appears to us to be apocryphal. But it is quite
true, as we know from the relations which existed between Gregory VII.
and Berenger, that the famous pontiff had doubts about the doctrine of
transubstantiation, and that he did not pronounce himself in support
of it until he perceived that his enemies would take advantage of his
doubts on the subject to strike a blow at his hierarchical rights and
supreme authority.

When the debate on the ten theses had been brought to a close, Farel
entered the pulpit, in the afternoon of Sunday, October 8, and
delivered the closing discourse. We shall allow the orator to speak
his own language, although it be not always that of our age, for it
is essential that the Reformation should be set before us just as
it actually appeared. Farel was struck with the fact that a band of
ministers, feeble men and few in number, had been capable, in that
conflict of eight days, of filling mighty Catholicism with alarm and
vanquishing it. He remembered, too, how when he arrived at Aigle, at
Neuchâtel, at Geneva, poor, weak, and contemptible in the eyes of
many, he had seen the papacy reel and fall down before the Word of
God. ‘What is it then,’ said he, ‘which makes you tremble, you who are
a great multitude covering the whole land? What! a poor prophet makes
his appearance, alone in the face of so many rich men; unknown and
friendless before so many people who have powerful allies; he knows not
whither to go, has no one to speak to, while you are all comfortably
lodged, you all know one another, and fill the whole world with terror.
Of what then are you afraid? The prophet will not strike you, for he is
unarmed. When, for one reason or another, a whole city or even a whole
people revolts against you, you have no fear at all, and you act even
worse than usual.... Whence is this difference? Is one then more than a
multitude? The fact is this: With that poor prophet comes the truth,
the wonderful truth of God, which is mightier than all men, and which,
whenever it encounters enemies, pursues them, confounds them and puts
them to flight, while they are unable to make any resistance.’[412]

[Sidenote: FAREL’S CLOSING DISCOURSE.]

Farel did not confine himself to giving the solution of the enigma.
He desired above all to teach consciences and to lead souls to Jesus
Christ, while he rescued them from the pope. This was the great aim of
his long life. That is the reason why, in addressing a vast audience,
he cried out, ‘Come then to Jesus, to Jesus who hath borne our sorrows,
and trust wholly in him that you may be saved. Abandon the perverse
doctrines which the pope and his servants teach, the masses and the
confessions, the absolutions, indulgences, and pardons for life. Run
no more hither and thither to the broken cisterns. Trust no longer
in persons so impotent and so cruel; receive neither the pope nor
Mohammed, nor anyone who assumes to govern you by his own ordinances.
Hold fast to the sole head, Jesus, who when he entered into the great
sanctuary, offered to his Father his own blood, thus making peace
between God and us, so that Christians are made immortal. If you trust
in the pope you will be put to shame when you hear from the mouth of
God these words: Who commanded what you have done? You have had the
popes for your gods.... Go then, and let them save you if they can.
Then will come upon you great desolation. It is greatly to deceive
yourselves to seek Jesus Christ in the wafers of the priests, in bread,
in wine, in flesh, in tears, thorns, nails, wood, shrouds, cloths, and
all the other mockeries which Rome offers you, which lay low everything
that is of God. It is in another way, it is in his Spirit, it is by
faith, that you must seek the Saviour. A church of Jesus, governed
by its spouse, does not receive all these papal errors; it directs
poor sinners to God, that he may open their hearts, and that they may
implore his mercy.

‘Then do not send your wives nor your daughters to those whom you know
so well. Do not give your souls up to the guidance of men to whom you
would hardly like to intrust your sheep. Let all go to God, go to him
with the heart, for it is the heart he asks for and not our money. To
sing a mass, to mutter prayers and _Ave Marias_ before a piece of wood,
to make so many journeys hither and thither; these are not what he
wants of us. He wants us to cling wholly to him alone, and he will save
us.’

Farel then turning to the priests, of whom there was a large number
present, said to them, ‘Leave off then, you poor priests, who till
now have been deceived, and have deceived others, leave off teaching
that without your confessions, your penances, your satisfactions and
absolutions, whether made in this world or in the world to come, it is
not possible to enter into paradise. Lead your sheep to the shepherd
who gave his life for them. The church of Jesus gets nothing out of all
your trash. God does not care how you muffle yourselves up, what sort
of shirts you wear under your gowns, whether your cloaks are bordered
in the proper way, or whether you keep in good condition the ornaments
and furnishings of your chapels and altars. To place salvation in these
outward things is to reverse the doctrine of Jesus, for _the kingdom of
God is within you_.’

[Sidenote: HIS APPEAL TO THE PRIESTS.]

Farel, as he closed his discourse, raised a song of triumph, and
pointed out that the Reformation did not adopt the weapons of its
adversaries, but that its method formed the most striking contrast to
theirs. ‘Many,’ said he, ‘have tried to assail my propositions, but the
truth has been the strongest. Yet the priests and the monks have been
subjected to no secret interrogatories; they have not been forbidden
to speak; they have not been threatened with prison or with death; no
deathsmen have appeared on the scene to settle the questions before us
by fire or sword. All have been kindly invited. All those who wished
to dispute have been listened to, and no one has taken offence even at
their frequent repetitions. Receive then the holy doctrine of Jesus
which has been set before you, and let him alone suffice you. One
better, wiser, or more powerful, we cannot find. Be Christians; be no
longer papists.

‘O priests, canons, and monks, if henceforth you have no more the
honors which you have previously enjoyed, if you should not be so well
treated and fed, do not on that account destroy yourselves and the poor
people. Better is it to enter into life eternal with the poor Lazarus
than go with the rich bad man to hell. Leave, then, your songs and
your masses, and follow Jesus. Instead of chanting Latin before the
people, preach to them the sacred Gospel. When some came like brigands
to kill us, we did not demand vengeance, but grace and forgiveness for
them. And now we ask that you may be joyfully and tenderly received, as
wandering sheep returning to the fold.

‘And you, my lords,’ said Farel, addressing the delegates from Berne,
‘since God has led you to the conquest of this country, and has
committed its people to you as a child is committed to its father, see
to it that God be holily honored in the lands which are intrusted to
your rule. Let not Jesus be to you of less estimation than the poorest
man in the land. May God touch the hearts of all kings and lords, to
the end that the poor people may live according to God’s will, without
war and in peace; that human blood may not be shed; that a man who is
made in God’s image may not kill his fellow who is made in the same
image; but that each may love and aid his neighbor as he would that
his neighbor should aid him. And may all those who have suffered for
the faith in Jesus be strengthened to persevere even to the end, and
declare the goodness and the power of God, so that all the earth may
worship him.’[413]




                             CHAPTER III.

             EXTENSION OF THE REFORM IN THE PAYS DE VAUD.

                            (END OF 1536.)


The assembly of Lausanne was a great event for the Vaudois; it was
talked of in every village. Berne, by her ordinance, ‘that all priests,
monks, and other people of the Church, whatever they might be, should
appear,’ had awakened universal attention. While there was one great
disputation at Lausanne, there were many little ones in the towns and
villages. They discussed the _pros_ and the _cons_, and they wondered
whether the priests on their return would be converted to the _new
faith_ or not. At Lausanne itself, hardly had a session closed, and
the crowd passed out of the doors of the beautiful cathedral, than the
debates were renewed in the streets and in private houses.

[Sidenote: RESULTS OF THE CONFERENCE.]

The results of the conference were not long in showing themselves.
Some, like the Cordelier Tandy, owned themselves convinced, took the
side of the Reformation, and became in their turn its missionaries.
Ministers and laymen were seen traversing all the land, reporting the
discussions, showing that the evangelical religion is indeed the true,
and intensifying the universal excitement. The two deputies sent by
the parish of Villette, Sordet and Clavel, were so much impressed by
the truths expounded by Farel and his friends, that they took Viret
back with them to Cully, that he might preach there. The whole country,
indeed, was not converted, but the light was penetrating from place to
place, even into the remotest corners. Not only was there the bright
flame in those fair regions, but there was also the warmth, which was
further diffused than the light, quickening and transforming hearts.

At Lausanne itself the first effect of the disputation was remarkable,
and showed clearly that morals were quite as much as doctrine the
business of the Reformation, and that they were possibly its most
distinctive characteristic. Only two days after the close of the
disputation, on October 10, the council, very much engrossed by the
great event which had just taken place, resolved ‘to destroy once
for all the houses of ill-fame which existed in the town,’ to drive
away the foul women who lived in them, as well as all others who were
known to be leading an evil life. On Thursday, October 12, the order
given to those ‘unfortunates’ to quit the city and the bailiwick was
published with sound of trumpet in all the streets.[414] It has been
said that morals are the science of man.[415] The Lausannese edileship
thought that they were especially the science of the magistrate.
Those discussions, in which justification by faith had been the chief
subject in question, had for their first consequence works of Christian
morality. This proceeding of the magistrates gave great joy to those
who had taken part in the disputation. They saw in it the apology for
their doctrine. ‘When justification by faith is spoken of,’ remarks
one of them,[416] ‘the mind of man takes the matter the wrong way,
and is shocked, like a ship which, instead of keeping to the right
course marked out for it, drives on to strike first on one rock then
on another. The death of Christ is efficacious for extinguishing the
evil of our flesh, and his resurrection for originating in us a new
condition of better nature.’

The people drew from the disputation another consequence. The most
ardent even of the reformers had, while the debates lasted, tolerated
the images in the cathedral. Viret had shown that God prohibited
them, and that they turn men away from the true service of God. ‘The
priests,’ he had said, ‘for their convenience set in their own place
preachers of wood and of stone, the images, arraying them in rich
garments at the cost of the poor. And as for themselves, they sleep,
they make good cheer, and are free from care. These images are their
vicars, they do their work, and they cost nothing to feed. And the poor
people are stupefied and kiss the wood and the stone.’[417] No one had
answered Viret. It was in vain that the defenders of images had been
invited to come forward; not one appeared. For the reformed it seemed
therefore a legitimate course to remove them from the cathedral. A
sinister rumor of this project alarmed the canons, and they resolved to
do their utmost to resist the impious proceeding. They took the keys
of the cathedral and, running to the sacred edifice, closed the doors
that no one might be able to carry off the objects of their veneration.
In spite of all their precautions one of the images was removed. The
fact was immediately noised over the town. The most grievous blow had
just fallen on our great Lady of Lausanne! The reformed honored the
mother of the Saviour as a blessed woman, but they refused to make a
goddess of her. The clamor and threats of the priests recalled to mind
the cries of the worshippers of Diana at Ephesus, spoken of in the Acts
of the Apostles, who said, ‘The temple of the great goddess Diana is
in danger of being despised and her magnificence of being destroyed,
whom all Asia and the world worshippeth.’[418] The canons not feeling
themselves strong enough for the occasion, betook themselves to the
council, gave up to them the keys of the cathedral, and implored them
to protect the building and what it contained.[419] But the reformed,
who earnestly longed to see worship given to God alone, turned their
back on those figures of wood and stone:

    Dès maintenant, trompeuse idole,
    D’un culte honteux et frivole,
    Nous n’entourons plus tes autels.

[Sidenote: BERNESE ORDINANCES.]

It was the intention of the authorities to oppose the arbitrary removal
of images by private persons. But these same authorities lost no time
in suppressing them by their own act throughout the country. A few days
later, Thursday, October 19, the chief magistrate and the councillors
of Berne addressed all their trusty subjects of Vaud, and announced
to them by proclamation that being bound to govern them not only by
means of ‘corporal and outward ordinances, but also by exercising all
diligence to see that they walked according to the will of God, in
the true and living faith which brings forth good works; considering
that the ten conclusions which had been discussed at Lausanne were
based on Holy Scripture, they enjoined everyone to abstain from all
papistical ceremonies, sacrifices, and institutions; to cast down
all images and idols, as well as the altars, and this in an orderly
manner without disturbance; to hear the Word of God, to receive the
preachers with kindness, and not to molest and worry them, so that all
may dwell together in true peace, brotherly love and union.’[420] These
ordinances in the matter of religion and worship would seem strange in
our day; and we might wonder whether such would be tolerated even in
Japan. But they were in accordance with the spirit of that time, and
the rulers of Berne were doing their best.

The Reformation achieved greater triumphs still than the abolition of
images. It could count souls won to the Gospel, not only among the
general population of the country, but also among the very champions
of Rome who had encountered Farel. The amiable captain of the youth,
Ferdinand de Loys, embraced the glorious promises of the Gospel,
and subsequently exerted himself with great earnestness to maintain
Protestantism in France. Moreover, a brilliant testimony to his zeal
was given him. Soubise sent him grateful acknowledgment, as well on his
own behalf as on behalf of the prince of Condé, the Admiral (Coligny)
and other princes and lords.[421] By arrangement with the lords of
Berne, Valais, and Neuchâtel, he had sent to him some men; these men
(_gens_), however, we must add, appear to have been not evangelists but
soldiers. A priest who had taken part in the defence of the papacy, but
who had been convinced by the powerful words of the reformers, Dom Jean
Drogy, also embraced the evangelical faith. He became afterwards pastor
at Bevay in the territory of Neuchâtel. Megander, too, wrote on October
19, to the ministers of Zurich, ‘The disputation of Lausanne has had
the happiest results.’

[Sidenote: CAROLI AND VIRET.]

These successes encouraged the friends of the Reform, and the Bernese
government demanded of the authorities of Lausanne the definitive
establishment of the evangelical faith and worship. The canons opposed
the measure with all their energy, alleging that reverence is due to
all old customs and religions; they conjured the rulers of Lausanne
not to allow their city to be faithless to Rome. At the same time they
sent deputies to Berne. But the council was already treating with the
lords of Berne, partly swayed by conviction and partly by prudence.
The Bernese were disposed to grant various rights, advantages, and
privileges to their new subjects, on condition of their renouncing the
foreign authority of the pope, with which they well knew that it was
impossible to be on good terms, and of their receiving the Gospel,
which enlightens the mind, gives peace to the soul, and promotes the
prosperity of nations. They knew also that in order to persuade men, it
is necessary to act kindly towards them. Consequently, on November 1, a
contract was concluded at Berne, by virtue of which their excellencies
conceded to the burgesses of Lausanne the higher, middle, and lower
jurisdiction in civil and criminal causes, various convents and abbeys,
the châlet and the mill of Gobet, and certain vineyards. With these
gifts the Bernese coupled the promise that, as soon as ‘popery and
its mummery should be abolished,’ their excellencies would exercise
generosity towards the priests. This _grande largition_ was read on the
5th of the same month in grand council at Lausanne, and was solemnly
ratified. Meanwhile the chiefs of Berne presented, November 5, to the
chiefs of Lausanne, as first pastor, Caroli, who was a doctor of the
Sorbonne, and whose fluent talk and engaging manners prepossessed men
in his favor. At this choice the friends of the Gospel were indignant.
Viret, who had for so many years labored for the diffusion of the
light in his own country, and had done so with perfect earnestness,
wisdom, and self-renunciation, at the risk of his life--Viret, the
true Vaudois reformer--saw this new man, unfit as he was for the work
to be done, preferred to himself. The pastors of Geneva wrote to
Lausanne--‘Everyone knows the labors, the faith, the zeal of Viret,
and we are astonished to learn that they are treating him in that
way. We cannot endure it without complaining. If ever it becomes us
to be indignant, surely it is on this occasion.’[422] The Bernese
lords settled Caroli comfortably in the house of the canon Benoît de
Pontareuse, which had beautiful gardens in which he might philosophize
and entertain himself as Epicurus did of old. They assigned him,
besides, an annual salary of five hundred florins. His wife displayed
a degree of luxury which was offensive. Viret was joined with him
as second pastor, but no tithe was assigned to him, nor any means of
living. De Watteville contented himself with requesting him to show
respect for the great merit of his colleague. The Bernese, however,
very soon discovered that they had been mistaken in this matter. They
therefore wrote to Viret, December 1, that since he was already well
acquainted with the country, and Caroli was a sort of novice, they
advised him to give Caroli a gratuity, ‘advancement and service,
and this by way of charity.’[423] This was not giving Viret a sort
of guardianship of Caroli, as has been said. On the contrary, Farel
complained a few days later that it was difficult to say whether the
Bernese or the Lausannese cared least for Viret.[424] The Bernese
merely admitted that the Vaudois reformer, being a native of the
country, had more experience of its customs, ‘of the popular way of
doing things.’ Viret subsequently received a lodging in the Franciscan
convent, with a salary of thirty florins and a certain allowance of
wine and wheat. It was not one-third of the pay of Caroli. Some of the
reformed lent furniture to the humble minister for his room, because he
had no means of buying any.[425]

[Sidenote: REFORM AT VEVEY.]

Of all the districts of the Pays de Vaud, Vevey, a town situated in
that lovely region which, at the extremity of the lake of Geneva, is
so rich both in grace and in brilliancy, appears to have been the most
inclined to embrace the Reform. For eight years past Aigle and the
surrounding villages had heard the Gospel by the ministry of Farel.
The ministers who came and went from Berne to Aigle, and from Aigle
to Berne, passed through Vevey, and left light behind them in their
passage. Moreover, there was frequent intercourse between the people of
the government of Aigle and the people of Vevey. One historian worthy
of credit is even led to believe that the dean Michod and the regent J.
Mimard returned from Lausanne to their own town convinced of the truth
of the theses which they had at first attacked.[426] Even if they were
not themselves much troubled, they might by their narrations awaken
in the people the desire to become acquainted with the Gospel which
had been proclaimed with so much life by Farel, Viret, and Calvin. At
that epoch of the Reformation there was no other public disputation at
which so large a number of the champions of papal dogmas passed over to
the banner of the Gospel. The men of Vevey spontaneously asked for a
pastor; and one was sent them, November 24, whose name was Daillé. This
name became distinguished in the seventeenth century as that of one of
the most learned ministers of the Reformed Churches.

The Gospel met with opposition in the district of La Vaux, which lies
between Vevey and Lausanne. At a consultative meeting, held October
15, the deputies of La Vaux had demanded a general assembly, and had
declared that they would oppose ‘any innovation in the churches.’ Those
of Lutry, a small town bordering on Lausanne, were of the same mind.
But when the bailiff of Lausanne came three days after to dine there,
the wind began to change. The magistrates, flattered with this visit,
offered him with high compliments the wine of honor (_vin d’honneur_);
and all their zeal was limited to getting the papacy buried in the most
decorous manner possible. When the bailiff presented himself, November
2, to burn the images and destroy the altars, the municipal officers
demanded permission to remove them themselves, desiring to do it with
more delicacy. They caused the _Corpus Domini_ to be carried into the
_Grotto_, where they gave it an honorable position, and lighted lamps
just as if it were in the church. They also put there the vessel of
holy water, covering it up carefully. Some weeks later, January 16,
1537, there appeared, on the part of Berne, one Matthieu de la Croix,
a converted monk, a man of discretion and benevolence. He said to the
council, ‘I offer to preach, if you approve it, and even to preach
every day if you will assent to it; and further, when any one dies I
will deliver a sermon for the consolation of the family.’ Anxious still
more powerfully to work upon their hearts, he added, ‘I propose that a
request be addressed to the lords of Berne in favor of the poor.’ One
might fancy that De la Croix did nothing more than put in practice the
proverb, _More flies are to be caught with honey than with vinegar_.
But there is nothing to show that his gracious way did not proceed
from a sincere charity. This zeal for their commune touched the hearts
of the Lutry people, and they accepted the ministry of this man of
goodwill, and at the same time added to their acceptance the express
request to Berne to maintain the poor. On February 8, 1537, the church
was cleansed, and the stones of the altar were removed to a place
apart.[427]

[Sidenote: SEARCH FOR MINISTERS.]

The great transformation was being effected in the whole country. The
lords of Berne, understanding, doubtless, that their hands were not
the right ones for the task, had wisely intrusted to Farel the care
of providing for the spiritual wants of the people. Unfortunately it
was not a very easy matter. ‘He looked round on all sides for faithful
ministers, but could hardly find any.’ The nomination of Caroli by
the Bernese magistrates had annoyed him. He was afraid that men who
preached in its purity the cross of Christ would not be accepted.
‘They do not care much for those who preach Jesus Christ purely, and
they praise to the skies braggarts and hypocrites.’ However, he was
not disheartened. ‘Write,’ said he to his friend Fabri, ‘beseech,
come to our aid; send us competent men.’ One circumstance, unhappy
in itself, facilitated Farel’s work. Persecution was driving many
evangelical Christians out of France; and these men, full of love for
the faith which they had confessed in their native land, rejoiced
in the opportunity of preaching it in the beautiful valley of the
Leman. Farel, who was at that time the real bishop of these churches,
was indefatigable in his inquiries. As soon as he had found any
pious ministers, he recommended them to the lords of Berne, and the
bailiffs settled them in the various parishes. But as there were not
ministers enough for all, the same pastor had frequently to preach in
three different churches. A few priests were called to the ministry,
who did not seem to be mere deserters, with Christ on the lips only.
These were, in addition to those already mentioned, Tissot, Gredat,
Goudot, Meige, Malingre de la Molière, Motin, and Jacques d’Yverdon.
Some others also took charge of souls. Dubois was sent to Payerne, Du
Rivier to Moudon, Le Coq to Morges, J. Vallier to Aubonne, Melchior
d’Yvonant to Rolle, Morand to Nyon, Furet to Coppet, Colomb to Concise,
Masuyer to Cossonay, Epilon to Yvonant, and Eustache André (also named
Fortunat), to Cully.[428] For the most part they were foreigners. Some
of them had attended the disputation, and had been gained over by the
Christian eloquence of Farel, Viret, and Calvin. But whether they came
from the battle of Lausanne or from the ruder battles of France, they
all desired to publish the good news of the Gospel; and some of them
were inflamed with a zeal so ardent that ‘that one passion swallowed
up all others.’ They were well aware that they would have to face a
keen opposition; but ‘they were going willingly to offer their heads,
to receive all the obloquy which evil-minded men cast on God.’ The
following is the formula, somewhat free in character, which the lords
of Berne usually employed in their letters to these evangelists:--‘Have
ordered that thou, forthwith on receiving these presents, go to our
bailiff of ----, who will present thee to our subjects of ----, and then
thou wilt exercise the office of minister of the Gospel, according to
the grace which God has given thee.’ The bailiffs, for the purpose
of preparing people’s minds, went frequently beforehand with Viret
and other ministers into parishes that were to be provided for. They
preached and endeavored to make evident the great benefits of the
Reformation. But there was many a village in which the curé endeavored
to keep the people away from the sermon, excited his friends, who threw
stones at those who were hearers, and did the worst they could.[429]

[Sidenote: TRIALS OF FABRI.]

Farel persevered in his exertions, exhorting and consoling. Fabri,
pastor at Thonon, in the Chablais, had to pass through trials of
special severity. He wrote to Farel, ‘I cannot tell you how cruel are
the crosses which so violent an opposition lays upon me.’ Farel was
prompt to offer him consolation, and he shows in his answer how well he
had himself learnt to profit by the blows struck at him by the enemies
of the Gospel. ‘There is no ground for dejection,’ said he, ‘although
so many distresses weigh on you. It is in this way that the Lord
teaches us to depend entirely on him, and to call down by our sighing
the favor of our heavenly Father, which we are so backward to do.’ At
the same time Farel communicated to his friend his own experiences, and
made fresh allusion to the case of Caroli and Viret, which appears to
have greatly troubled him. ‘I am bidden,’ he said, ‘to call ministers
from all quarters, but where to find them I cannot tell. People slight
those who are the fittest, and who always breathe Jesus Christ; but
they exalt to the skies those who are mere masks, and breathe nothing
but arrogance. Some ministers, of too fastidious taste, are unwilling
to come into this country; they would rather bury themselves in the
tombs of Egypt than eat manna in the desert and be led by the pillar of
fire.’[430] At the same time that Farel wrote to Fabri at the foot of
the Alps, he wrote also to Hugues, pastor of Gex, at the foot of the
Jura. ‘Act with firmness,’ he said to him, ‘but with wisdom and without
passion. Put forward weighty proofs drawn from Scripture, and let your
words always be accompanied with the moderation of Christ.’[431] He
wrote likewise to many others. Calvin began at this time to exercise
the functions pertaining to the government of the Church. A minister,
Denis Lambert, formerly a monk, but who having been since 1534 pastor
in the country of Neuchâtel, had been chosen almoner to the little army
which marched in 1534 to the aid of Geneva, and fought the battle of
Gingins, had been settled by the Bernese as pastor in the neighborhood
of that town. He had remained full of monkery (_moinerie_), and he
had a wife of sorry reputation; so that their life and their manners
might ruin, but could not build up the Church. Some better ministers,
particularly Henry de la Mare, having been preferred to him, he flew
into a great rage at a colloquy held at the beginning of December,
1536. ‘Everybody persecutes me,’ he exclaimed; ‘it is not on the part
of men that I am sent!’ And he loaded his colleagues with insults,
threats, and innumerable calumnies. ‘Truly,’ said Farel, ‘the man
speaks like a Mars or a Bacchus.’[432] ‘It is not I,’ Farel said to
him, ‘that made you a preacher; I always suspected you too much.’
‘No,’ replied Denis, ‘I was sent by the Bernese, and we shall see
whether you dare resist them.’ Calvin then rose to speak, and we must
notice it as the first occasion of his taking part in the government of
the Church. He entreated Denis in the name of them all to resign the
holy ministry, promised that he should be provided for. Denis cared
nothing for this young doctor, and refused to comply with his request.
Farel desired to separate him from the population to which his life was
a scandal. The Bernese bailiff of Thonon thought that Denis was monk
from head to foot, and that he ought to be relegated to the convent of
the Augustinians of that town.

Although they were influenced quite as much by political as by
religious motives, and made some mistakes, as in the case of Caroli,
the lords of Berne neglected no means of enlightening the Vaudois, and
of leading them to accept with their heart the evangelical doctrines.
They enjoined on all fathers and mothers, all pastors and bailiffs,
the duty of seeing that children were well instructed according to the
Gospel. Without going so far as to say, as some have alleged, that
education is everything, the Bernese did believe that _if a child be
trained up in the way he should go, he will not depart from it_.[433]

[Sidenote: BERNESE EDICT OF REFORMATION.]

To crown its work, the council of Berne made, on Christmas eve,
December 24, 1536, a complete edict of reformation for its new
territories; and at the beginning of 1537 it caused proclamation to be
made in all the country that the ministers were to preach purely the
Word of God; that they were to celebrate only two sacraments, baptism
and the supper; that it was lawful to eat flesh at any time; that
ecclesiastics were not forbidden to marry; that all popish ceremonies,
masses, processions, lustrations, pilgrimages, and ringing of bells
for the dead and for bad weather, were abolished. These were followed
by many ordinances against gluttony, drunkenness, impurity, adultery,
blasphemy, gaming, military service abroad, and dancing. Three modest
dances for marriage festivals were, however, conceded.[434] Priests
and monks were at liberty to remain in the country, where they
received fitting allowances, or if they preferred it, to withdraw
into a Catholic country. The canons of Lausanne having no wish to be
witnesses of such a reform, took the latter course. They crossed the
lake and settled at Evian. The sisters of Sainte-Claire of Vevey did
the same.[435]

Calvin and the other ministers of Geneva and its neighborhood watched
with interest the changes which were taking place in the Pays de Vaud.
But they did not conceal from themselves how much there still remained
to do. On October 13, Calvin, before he started for Berne, whither
he was summoned, wrote from Lausanne to one of his friends--‘Already
in many places the idols and the altars of the papacy have begun to
totter, and I hope that ere long all the superstitions that still
prevail will be abolished. The Lord grant that idolatry may be
altogether uprooted in all hearts.’[436] These words characterize the
condition of the Pays de Vaud at that epoch.

On November 21, 1536, a conference was held at Geneva, at which the
pastors of the surrounding districts appear to have been present. Those
of the Pays de Gex and of the Chablais undoubtedly attended.[437] A
letter addressed by the conference to their brethren of Lausanne and
of Vaud sufficiently refutes the calumnies cast upon the Reformation,
and shows to what extent the reformers took heed of the purity of
the Church. ‘The pontifical tyranny has been overthrown,’ they said;
‘silence has been imposed upon the monks, because of their doctrines
and their unchaste lives. Brethren, take heed lest another tyranny
erect itself in place of the former. See that order and discipline be
maintained among you, and everything that becomes a holy assembly. To
that end seek your directions, not from any pontiff, nor in the rites
of the pope, but from Jesus Christ and in his Word.... Examine with
the utmost care the brethren whom you accept as pastors; see that
their doctrine be pure and their lives spotless. Inform yourselves
even of their family and the family of their wives, as St. Paul
enjoins. Without such care you will prepare your own ruin and that of
your people. As for ceremonies, let them be wholesome. Exercise your
Christian liberty, but in such a way as to cause offence to no one.’
The pastors of Geneva, they said, had received two letters in which
they found no Christian charity or moderation at all, but which savored
of pontifical authority. This passage doubtless refers to Caroli.




                              CHAPTER IV.

     THE REFORM AT GENEVA.--FORMULARY OF FAITH AND OF DISCIPLINE.

                          (END OF 1536-1537.)


[Sidenote: LIBERTY AND AUTHORITY.]

Calvin had displayed at Lausanne a steadfastness in the faith, and
a faculty of unfolding his views, which attracted more and more
attention to him. Bucer and Capito, in reading his _Institution_,
had already recognized the lofty reach of his intellect, and they
eagerly desired to have a conference with him on the evangelical
doctrine. They both wrote to him on December 1. ‘We acknowledge,’ said
Bucer, ‘that it is the Lord’s will to make use of you abundantly for
the good of our churches, and to make your ministry greatly useful.
We desire to be in agreement with you in all things, and we will go
to meet you wherever you please.’[438] Thus, then, the Strasburgers
acknowledged in Calvin a vocation for all the churches. They saw in him
the reformer. The author of the _Institution_ had in fact conceived
an ideal of a Church which was to take the place of the papacy--an
ideal difficult, perhaps impossible of realization in this world, but
to which he desired that Geneva should make as near an approach as
possible. Luther had announced with power the doctrine of remission of
sins, without concerning himself much about the constitution of the
Church. That doctrine, by penetrating the hearts of men, was to form
the congregation of the Lord. The great aim of Calvin was certainly to
proclaim before everything, like Luther, the redemption accomplished
by Jesus Christ, and the salvation which it gives; but he sought also,
more than the German reformer, to found a faithful Church, which, being
quickened and sanctified by the virtue of God’s word and the grace
of the Holy Spirit, should truly be the body of the Lord. Zwingli
had also busied himself with this subject; but there is an important
difference between the labors of the reformers of Zurich and Geneva.
At Zurich, Zwingli had looked downward: it was the people, so far as
they believed in the Scriptures, who were the foundation of the Church.
Calvin, on the other hand, looked upward, and placed the origin and the
subsistence of the Church in God himself. At Zurich, the Church existed
by the will of the reformed majority of the nation; at Geneva, it was
the will and the Word of God that formed it. At Zurich, the _fulcrum_
was in liberty; at Geneva, in authority. Both of these are salutary;
but each has its own danger. The best system is that in which authority
and liberty are combined; but this is not always easy to realize.

After Calvin’s return from the disputation of Lausanne, he resumed
his lectures and expositions of St. Paul’s Epistles in the church of
St. Peter. These lectures were well attended, and created an interest
which continually increased. Ere long, the superiority of the young
doctor and of his teaching, at once so profound and so animated,
excited in the Genevese the desire that he should definitely settle
among them. Towards the close of the year 1536, the office of pastor
was added to that of doctor. ‘He was elected and declared such in that
church by regular election and approbation.’[439] Calvin, at a later
period, felt bound to insist, in his letter to Cardinal Sadoleto,
on the regularity of that call. ‘In the first place,’ said he, ‘I
discharged in that church the office of reader, and afterwards that of
minister and pastor. And as far as regards my undertaking the second
charge, I maintain for my right that I did so lawfully and by a regular
call.’[440]

Calvin had not forgotten France, and he never did forget her. He had
himself just instigated an intervention of several German and Swiss
towns in favor of the French Protestants. It was doubtless on this
subject that he wrote from Lausanne to his friend François Daniel,
October 13, 1536: ‘To-morrow, if the Lord will, I am going to Berne,
respecting a business of which I will speak to you another time. I am
afraid that it may even be necessary for me to go as far as Basel,
notwithstanding the state of my health and the present ungenial
season.’[441] But nevertheless, without forgetting his old country, he
attached himself to his new one. That republic appeared to suit his
taste. Having become pastor at Geneva, he gave his attention to what
he had to do in order to substitute for the Church of the pope a real
evangelical Church.

[Sidenote: THE INDIVIDUAL AND SOCIETY.]

Farel, Viret, and Froment had begun the work at the right end. In
building a temple the first process is the cutting of the stones one by
one. Science has sometimes disparaged the individual. She has said, ‘An
individual, of whatsoever species it be, is nothing to the universe;
a hundred individuals, or a thousand, they are still nothing.’[442]
It is not so with individuals that have souls. Christ anticipated
and refuted these audacious assertions when he said, ‘What shall it
profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul?’ It
was by the conversion of individuals (Cornelius, Lydia, &c.) that the
Apostles established the Christian religion in the world; and it was
by proceeding in the same way that Farel and his friends laid the
foundations of Reform. Calvin, while appreciating this work, felt
nevertheless that another was necessary. After analysis must come
synthesis; and after the individual, society. Catholicism neglected
the individual, and concerned itself almost exclusively with society.
The Gospel proceeds otherwise. Farel had been everywhere, enlightening
minds one by one with the torch of the Word. It was now needful to bind
together the souls thus enlightened. The Christian individual must
first be created, afterwards the Christian Church. The Reformation
had begun in Geneva with the law of life. Another law, the law of
unity, must now be fulfilled. Calvin was alarmed when he considered
the state of Geneva. ‘When I first came into this town,’ said he,
‘there was as it were nothing--no morals, no discipline, no life.
Preaching went on, and that was all. To be sure they burnt the idols,
but there was no reformation at all.’[443] This judgment is perhaps
too severe. It was twenty-eight years after the time referred to that
Calvin thus expressed himself; and the ‘wonderful conflicts’ which he
had been engaged in may possibly have led him to depict in too dark
colors the church which Farel had left to him. Be that as it may,
Calvin, while attaching the utmost importance to individual conversion,
was profoundly convinced that a task of another kind remained to be
achieved. We find that the same conviction possessed Luther when he
returned to Wittenberg after his confinement in the Wartburg. It is the
conviction that upon the revolutionary principle (and the revolution,
we must admit, had been necessary and admirable) the conservative
principle must erect itself.

[Sidenote: DIVISION AMONG THE HUGUENOTS.]

When a brilliant victory is won, we usually find, both in the world
and in the Church, that a number of men gather around the victor who
have indeed something in common with him, but who have at the same
time characters and propensities opposed to his own. All who muster
and fight under the same flag, however, have not always the same
thoughts and the same affections as the brave warrior who hoists the
flag. The Genevese, who were designated by the name of Huguenots,
had declared for the Reformation because it attacked the abuses and
the superstitions of popery, and because, in bidding them prove all
things, it restored to them those privileges of free men of which Rome
had robbed them; many had also been attracted by the love of novelty,
others by the prospect of a new career opened to their ambition. There
were doubtless a certain number of citizens who sincerely agreed with
the Reformation, with the faith which it professed, and with the morals
which it prescribed; but they did not form the most numerous class. In
any expedition of great daring, and which exposes to many toils and
privations, we know that many of the soldiers quit the standard under
which they first ranked themselves; so it was inevitable that a large
number of the Genevese would abandon the flag around which they had
rallied, and would place themselves in opposition to the leaders whom
at first they had followed. Calvin was not long in observing this.
‘The abomination of papistry,’ said he, ‘is now cut down by the power
of the Word.[444] The senate has decreed that its superstitions, with
all their _paraphernalia_, shall be suppressed, and that religion
shall be regulated in the city according to the purity of the Gospel.
However, the form of the Church does not appear to us to be such as the
legitimate exercise of our office requires. Whatever others may think,
we for our part cannot imagine that our ministry ought to be anything
so slight as that when once we have preached our sermon, we have
nothing to do but to fold our arms, like people that have done their
task.’

Calvin’s first thought for insuring a prosperous state of things in
Geneva--and this deserves to be noticed--was that it was essential to
pay great attention to Christian instruction. He had no sooner returned
from his journey than he began to draw up a catechism, to which he
added a confession of faith.[445] Although his own word was full of
force and authority, it was to the understanding, to the conscience,
and to conviction that he appealed. The Holy Scriptures possessed in
his eyes an infallible authority to which every soul of man is bound
to submit. Nevertheless, he did not mean that men were to submit in a
slavish manner, as Rome required; He would have them understand the
Holy Scriptures in order that they might grasp their truth and beauty.
‘It is mere nothing,’ said he, ‘that words are thrown out, until
our minds are enlightened by the gift of intelligence. If we cannot
comprehend with our own understanding and know what is right, how
should our will suffice to obey?’[446]

It was not difficult for the author of the _Institution Chrétienne_ to
compose, according to the same notions, a book designed for religious
instruction. Calvin therefore prepared a catechism in French, which was
not divided into question and answer. It seemed, from the way in which
it was drawn up, less fitted to be placed in the hands of children than
of masters, as a clue; or rather in the hands of adults, to aid their
attempts after self-instruction. It appears, nevertheless, that the
book was also used by children. It has hitherto been found impossible
to discover a single copy of it. It is conjectured that the leaves of
the book were used up, being torn out with the wear and tear of daily
lessons, as frequently happens still with school-books.[447]

[Sidenote: CALVIN’S CATECHISM.]

A Latin translation of the catechism appeared at Basel in 1538.[448]
This catechism reveals in its first lines the true thought, the real
mind of Calvin. We say the real mind, because it is very different
from that attributed to Calvin by so many men who are filled with
prejudices, and for whom the word _Calvinism_ is like a scarecrow set
up on the top of a pole in the fields to frighten timid birds. ‘There
is not a man in existence,’ said he, ‘no matter how uncivilized he be,
no matter though his heart be altogether savage, that is destitute of
the religious sentiment. It is certain that the end for which we were
created is to know the majesty of our Creator, and to embrace him when
known, and to adore him with all fear, love, and reverence.’[449] Of
course this declaration does not show that Calvin was blind to the
evil that is in humanity. It does not prevent his declaring that ‘the
heart of man, which the poison of sin has penetrated to its inmost
depths, sins, not because it is constrained by necessity, but because
the will impels him to it.’ Calvin afterwards expounds, with the hand
of a master, the three great articles of the Christian Church--the
Decalogue, the Apostles’ Creed, and the Lord’s Prayer. But this is not
the place for a copy of his exposition.

Calvin, at the same time that he provided instruction for the young,
interested himself warmly in the character of the men and women who
were called to become members of the Church of God. As he longed for
a pure Church, his first care was to ascertain the purity of faith
and life of those who composed it. The great diversity of religious
opinions which then prevailed in Geneva troubled him, for he knew
that _every house divided against itself shall not stand_. ‘How,’
said he, ‘can we receive into a Church of the Gospel people who,
for all we know, may not have renounced papistical idolatries and
superstitions?’[450] The members composing a Church ought, in his
judgment, to be united by a bond both holy and strong. As Geneva had to
contend against the Goliath of the papacy, her strength must be found
in faith and union. Sound doctrine must be imprinted on the hearts
of the Genevese, in order that neither mysticism, nor infidelity,
nor a fanatical enthusiasm might approach to enfeeble and lead them
astray. Christians must ‘lean upon the promises of God with trust and
certainty, that they may stand firm against all the artillery which
might threaten the destruction of their confidence.’[451]

Before Calvin’s arrival, Farel had spoken to the council about the
necessity of preparing the edicts for establishing unity in matters
of religion at Geneva, but nothing had been done. Now that Calvin was
come, he conversed with his old colleague on the means of _making the
people live in the faith of God_. The two friends agreed to prepare a
confession of evangelical faith, and the author of the _Institution
chrétienne_ was in reality charged with the task of drawing it up;
not however without consulting Farel, who was better acquainted with
Geneva, and more clearly understood what was expedient, than the
newly arrived teacher. The biographers of Calvin, who were also his
friends and knew his labors better than any one, speak of this matter.
‘When he was named pastor,’ says one of them, ‘he prepared a brief
formulary of doctrine and discipline.’[452] ‘Then (after the Lausanne
disputation),’ says another, ‘a formula of Christian faith was published
by Calvin.’[453] It has been asserted that Calvin’s formula is lost,
but that Farel had at the same time prepared another, and that the
latter is preserved. In this assertion there are two statements highly
improbable: first, that separate confessions of faith were drawn up at
the same time by Calvin and Farel, for the same purpose: second, that
it is Calvin’s which is lost, and Farel’s that is preserved.

[Sidenote: THE CONFESSION OF FAITH.]

Whatever the fact may be, Farel, on November 10, presented the
Confession to the council; and that was quite natural. He had stood
for years in close relation with that body, and was recognized by it
as the chief leader in the Church: while Calvin, a new-comer, and
somewhat shy, was not fond of showing himself, and least of all of
appearing before the Council of the Two Hundred. Farel, therefore,
having been introduced into the hall of the great council, communicated
the document to them. He stood in the presence of the deputies of the
people of Geneva, who were invested with large powers and whom it was
dangerous to offend. But, although he took into consideration the
religious state of those whom he addressed, he laid before them the
purport of the Christian dispensation with that freedom, clearness, and
courage which were characteristic of the epoch of the Reformation, and
which appear strange to a generation more enervated, more unbelieving,
and more timid. ‘The rule of our faith and our religion,’ said he, ‘is
Holy Scripture alone, without admixture of anything invented by the wit
of man. We worship one God only, not putting our trust in any creature,
whether angel or saint, or men still living on the earth. Man, who is
by nature full of corruption, stands in need of enlightenment from God
that he may attain to the true knowledge of his salvation; and all that
is lacking in ourselves we receive from Christ. By his righteousness
we obtain remission of our sins. By the shedding of his blood we are
cleansed from all our stains. By his Holy Spirit we are born again in a
new spiritual nature. By our communion with him, the works which we do
are made acceptable to God.’[454]

It has been observed that this confession of faith, in twenty-one
articles, does not set forth the Christian doctrines in so complete
and didactic a manner as Calvin subsequently did. From this
circumstance it has been inferred that it was composed by Farel. A
reply to this reasoning is furnished in the statement of Theodore
Beza,--that the confession was adapted to the wants of the Genevese
Church, which had then hardly escaped from the corruptions of the
papacy. Calvin and Farel had given especial prominence to those
truths which stood in opposition to papal errors, and had not felt
it necessary to establish the doctrines which the Romish Church
had retained: for example, the doctrine of the Trinity. At a later
period, when these doctrines were controverted by men who professedly
adhered to the Reformation, Calvin felt the need of formally avowing
them; and this he did in his _Sommaire de la doctrine chrétienne_.
Further, we would willingly admit that there may have been, as some
competent judges suppose, a confession of faith prepared by Farel,
and that it was that which was presented to the people, if the two
contemporary writers whom we have cited were not silent about such
a document, and did not insist on that of which Calvin was author.
But there is stronger evidence still. Calvin himself, when speaking
of the publication of his catechism, says, ‘that he annexed to it _a
confession which was sanctioned_ (_editam_, published) _by the solemn
oath of all the people_.’[455] To us this appears to be decisive.
We shall presently see that the spirit pervading that confession is
exactly the spirit which at that time animated Calvin. If anyone
asserts the contrary, he must have forgotten the dispute which took
place between Calvin and Caroli. The best reception was given to the
work from the moment of its presentation to the government. The council
resolved, say the registers, that the articles proposed by Farel should
all be adopted.[456]

[Sidenote: FREQUENT COMMUNION.]

If the rule of faith were Christian, the rule of morals must be pure.
At the beginning of the year 1537, Calvin, doubtless in conjunction
with Farel, prepared a memoir on the subject of order in the Church.
On January 15 Farel stated the fact to the council; and the next
day the articles ‘presented by Master Guillaume Farel and the other
preachers’ were read before the Two Hundred.[457] The ministers
said,[458]--‘Considering what trouble and confusion prevailed in our
city before the Gospel was received by common consent, it has been
found impossible to bring everything into good order at once. But now
that it hath pleased the Lord to establish his rule here somewhat more
perfectly, we have thought it good and profitable to confer on these
matters; and we have decided to lay before you these articles.’

There was no ground of objection to this introduction.

‘It would be desirable,’ continued Calvin and his friends, ‘that the
holy supper of Jesus Christ should be celebrated every Sunday at the
least, since we are _made, in it, partakers of the body, the blood, the
life, the spirit, and all the benefits of Jesus Christ_, and because
it is an admonition to us to live as Christians in brotherly unity. It
was not instituted for commemoration two or three times in a year, but
for frequent observance. Such was the practice of the ancient Church,
until the abomination of masses was introduced, the effect of which was
the entire abolition of the Lord’s supper. However, as we foresee that
by reason of the infirmity of men, there might be some danger of that
sacred mystery falling into contempt through so frequent a celebration,
we have judged it well that the holy supper should be observed once a
month.’

It was natural that such good Christians as these reformers should
desire frequent communion. But the lesser council was of opinion that,
for the majority, the supper would be more solemn and more beneficial
if it were less frequent. It was therefore resolved to propose to the
Council of the Two Hundred that it should be celebrated not more than
four times in the year.[459] The reading of the memoir of the pastors
was continued.

‘But the main point is that the supper, which was instituted for the
purpose of uniting Christians in one spirit with their head and with
each other, should not be defiled and contaminated by any persons
whose evil life shows plainly that they do not belong to Jesus Christ.
We must not associate, says St. Paul, with those who are notoriously
profligate, covetous, idolatrous, railers, drunkards, or thieves. Care
must therefore be taken that only those come to the supper who are
approved members of Jesus Christ. To this end, our Lord established in
his Church the correction and discipline of _excommunication_. This
discipline existed in the Church until wicked bishops, or rather say
brigands assuming the title of bishops, converted it to an instrument
of tyranny, and abused it for the gratification of their own evil
lusts, to such a degree that, at the present day, excommunication is
one of the most cursed things to be seen in the realm of the pope. It
has therefore seemed to us expedient that this discipline should be
restored in the Church, according to the rule laid down in Scripture.

[Sidenote: EXCOMMUNICATION.]

‘Choose ye therefore certain persons of good report, belonging to all
quarters of the city, who may have an eye on each man’s life, in order
that, if they discover open vice in any one, the latter may be exhorted
by one of the ministers in a brotherly way to amend his life. If he
will not listen to the exhortation, then let the minister report to
the assembly what he has done for the reclamation of the sinner. If he
still persist in evil, then the time will be come to excommunicate
him; that is, to treat him as cast out of the society of Christians.
Should there be any who only laugh at your excommunication, it will be
for you to consider whether, in the long run, that contempt for God
and his Gospel is to be suffered.’ After thus insisting on a moral
life, the reformers required that the confession of faith which they
had presented should be put in force. ‘It is much to be suspected,’
said the ministers, ‘if it be not even plainly apparent, that there
are many of the inhabitants of this city who have not by any means
submitted to the Gospel, but still cherish in their hearts all manner
of superstitions. It would be a highly expedient course to begin in
the first place to ascertain who are willing to avow themselves of the
Church of Jesus Christ, and who are not. If those who are in agreement
with us in respect to the faith are to be excommunicated solely because
of their vices, much more ought those to be excommunicated who are
wholly opposed to us in religion; for there is no division greater than
that which is made by the faith. As yet it has not been ascertained
what doctrine each man holds; but this is _the real beginning of a
church_ (_le droit commencement d’une Église_). The remedy which has
occurred to us is that all the inhabitants of this city should be
bound to make confession and give a reason for their faith. And you,
Gentlemen of the Council, make you confession in your council, and
thus, by example show what each man will have to do.’

We have said that before Calvin’s arrival at Geneva, rules of
discipline were in existence and in force. There is here however
something new, as is evident from the language of the pastors. It is
_excommunication_. This is a point of great importance, for it was
on this subject that violent conflicts soon after began in Geneva.
It does not however appear, from the official records, that the
articles met with any opposition in the council. Surely a Christian
life and a Christian faith ought to characterize a Christian society.
If profligates and drunkards ought not to be admitted to what the
world calls good society, much more, they thought, ought they to be
excluded from a religious society. Moreover, they were _laymen_ of good
report who were to watch over moral order, and even those laymen were
appointed by other laymen, members themselves of the council. This
fact made a great difference between the Romish discipline and that
which the reformers desired. In this case there was no suggestion of a
reign of clericalism; and this doubtless contributed to the adoption
of the rules. Calvin was convinced that morality ought to distinguish
the reformed Church from the deformed (_l’église réformée de l’église
déformée_). Was it not dissolute living, both on the part of the laity,
and still more on the part of the monks and the priests, which had
called forth in the Church the sharpest rebukes? It was not possible
to purify the faith without purifying the life. That would have been
a flagrant contradiction. If the Reformation made light of morality,
it would destroy itself as Rome had done. With regard to doctrine, no
one supposed that the reformed Church could hold in its bosom either
Roman Catholics or pantheists who believed neither in God nor in the
immortality of the soul. Why then should it tolerate impure persons or
robbers? All this is true: but nevertheless there is something in the
system that does not work smoothly. Calvin was right, and he was wrong
too. We shall have to say wherein lay his truth and wherein his error.

The articles presented to the senate dealt also with the spiritual
songs of the Church. If only the minister speak, worship remains cold:
but the singing ‘has power to raise our hearts to God,’ said Calvin,
‘and to stimulate us to exalt his name.’ He urged the education of
children, ‘in order to correct the wonderful rudeness and ignorance in
which they were left through the negligence of their parents, and which
is not by any means allowable in the Church of God.’ Then he treated
of the order of marriage, ‘a subject involved in much confusion by the
pope, who undertook to establish degrees at his own pleasure.’ Calvin
closed his articles with an eloquent exhortation to the council. ‘Take
not these admonitions,’ said he, ‘as coming from us, but from Him who
gives them in his Word. And should any one allege the difficulty of
putting them in practice, let it not trouble you; for we must cherish
the hope that whenever we are willing to do what God has commanded, His
goodness will prosper our enterprise and bring it to a good end, as you
yourselves have found by experience to this day.’

Calvin thus set about his task like a great master. A catechism which
bore at once the impress of genius and of piety: a confession of faith,
pure and living: a Church order which had for its aim the removal of
vice and the quickening of piety:--these formed the threefold labor
with which the illustrious reformer began his work.

[Sidenote: THE ARTICLES APPROVED.]

The articles, after being sanctioned by the lower council, were carried
the same day before the Council of the Two Hundred, and were allowed.
The council further decreed that no shops should be open on Sundays
during the time of divine service: that all persons who had images and
idols in their houses should destroy them or bring them to be burnt:
that no one should sing foolish songs nor play at games of chance: and
finally that the syndic Porral and Jean Goulaz should be commissioned
to see to the maintenance of good morals in the city, and that people
led lives conformed to the will of God.[460] The choice of Porral was
very good: that of Goulaz, who was personally no enemy to play or to
taverns, was not so good. The council showed by these measures with
what seriousness it meant to proceed in the accomplishment of the
Reformation. Soon after it adopted another resolution. Many children
of Geneva were sent away to various places and intrusted to foreign
governors. The council decreed, January 30, that those persons who had
children at schools not in Geneva, should have them brought into that
town or placed in other _Christian_ schools; that otherwise the said
children would be deprived of citizenship.[461] This was a rigorous
measure; but it shows what spirit actuated the council, and its zeal in
the cause of sound education.

These important acts met with no opposition even from the citizens who
subsequently so sturdily resisted the rules of discipline. There was
however a certain show of opposition, but it was in mere sport. The
high-spirited youth of the town, easily excited, indulged in laughter
and sarcasm. They were especially annoyed at the zeal of the syndic
Porral, which crossed them in their pastimes; and when new syndics
had been elected, February 4, and Porral went out of office, these
youngsters began the next day to _play at Picca-Porral_. They wore in
the hat, as a badge, a leek (_porreau_), and served at their feasts a
dish of leeks. Each of them would prick the _porral_ with abundance
of jests. ‘Légier Beschaut and some other young men of the town’ were
imprisoned, February 5, for this sport.[462] Porral requested Farel to
accompany him to the prison, for the purpose of admonishing them. But
the young folk did not profit by it. Some have called them frolicsome,
others dissolute. We think that the former term is the most fitting.
As the council saw in the proceedings of the young culprits, says a
contemporary,[463] more of youth and foolishness than of malicious
intention, they set them at liberty four days after their arrest,
under promise to appear again when required. It is very likely that
Porral had acted with a little too much rigor in this affair.

[Sidenote: CALVIN’S REQUIREMENTS.]

The Genevese people testified their hearty acceptance of this
Christian constitution by electing, February 5, syndics devoted to
the Reformation. Other candidates of note were rejected. It was
acknowledged that the equality of the citizens was established by
this constitution, the rules applying to all alike, ‘and families of
the highest distinction being bound to submit like other people.’
This gratified the commonalty. Calvin, however, did not indulge in
illusions. He was afraid that a certain number of citizens, and even
some of the highest eminence, would oppose the Reform; and he urgently
required that all should be called upon to profess it. ‘In default
of this,’ he said, ‘he would stay no longer at Geneva.’[464] What he
had presented was for the benefit of all. If all would not accept it,
he would go away, for he had no intention of invading or usurping by
force or by fraud. On March 13, the council resolved to see to the
Lord’s Supper, and to the observance of the other articles.[465] On
April 17 it was decreed that a syndic, the captain of the quarter,
and the tithing men (_dizeniers_) should visit all the houses of the
tithings (_dizaines_) to propose the articles respecting the faith.
On the 27th of the same month it was resolved to print the confession
of faith, and to furnish a sufficient number of copies to the tithing
men for the inhabitants of their tithings, in order that when the
people should be visited they might be better instructed and well
informed.[466] Each man should know what he was going to do; there
must be no surprise. Calvin, indeed, was not content with the mere
instruction of the Genevese in accordance with the confession. It
would have sufficed Saunier, who saw with regret, at least at this
time, that adhesion to the formula of the confession was required of
every Genevese.[467] But it was not enough for Calvin that the document
should be officially recognized by the council as an expression of the
faith of the Genevese, a course which had been deemed satisfactory in
other places. He demanded that each individual should accept it. He
did not believe that the state was in this case responsible for the
people. Every Genevese was responsible before God. He did not want
religion in the mass. Does not Christ say, _Whosoever shall confess me
before men_? Whosoever--that is, each individual. This is perfectly
true; but the mistake is to suppose that, in order to confess Christ,
it is necessary to sign a theological confession. ‘If thou believest
in thy heart, thou shalt be saved,’ says Paul. We are reminded of a
poor woman who desired participation at the supper, and whose pastor
subjected her to an examination on the three offices of Christ, as
prophet, priest, and king. ‘Ah, sir,’ she replied, ‘I know nothing
of those things, but I am ready to die for him.’ ‘That will do,’
said the minister, with some sense of shame. Theology is necessary
to theologians; it must not be demanded of simple folk. The three
leading ministers, Farel, Calvin, and Courault, the latter blind and
old, being of the same mind on the subject, appeared before the Two
Hundred, presented their formula, and earnestly pressed the council to
give glory to God by confessing His truth. ‘It is right,’ said Calvin,
‘that in so sacred a duty you, who are bound to set an example of all
virtue, should go before the people.’ But that was not enough for him.
‘Then,’ he added, ‘assemble the country by tithings, and let every man
swear to this confession.’[468] The council adopted the views of the
reformer, which Saunier himself had embraced. All the tithing men were
summoned to give first their own adhesion; and the council charged them
to exhort those over whom they were set to follow the commandments of
God, and to bring their men (_leurs gens_) to St. Peter’s, tithing
by tithing (there were twenty-eight of them), to adhere to the
confession. The adhesion was given through the medium of the tithing
men, successively, and not simultaneously. A principle, from which
there was no deviation, excluded women from the general council. But in
this instance the assembly was of a religious rather than a political
character. It was well known how great the influence of woman is in
the family as regards religion. It is therefore possible that both men
and women were summoned together to St. Peter’s, distributed in groups
by their tithing men. The decree which we have just cited directs them
to bring their _gens_, a word which may include both sexes. However,
we have found no positive evidence on this point. One single fact
appears to indicate that women were present. On September 28, 1537, the
council dealt with the case of _Jeanne la Gibescière_, who would not
swear to the new reformation, and banished her on that account. But
more than a month earlier, on August 21, this same Jeanne, belonging
to a particular sect (_the Spirituals_), on its being proposed to
her to swear to the new reformation, had refused to do so, and had
consequently been placed under arrest. That case, therefore, cannot be
alleged as an absolute proof that women also swore to the confession at
St. Peter’s.

[Sidenote: CONVOCATION OF THE PEOPLE.]

Accordingly, on Sunday, July 29, the council assembled in the
cathedral, and the tithings passed in successively. Young people who
had attained their majority, and old men with white hair, perhaps women
as well as men, came forward. Rozet, secretary to the council, read the
confession of faith. Next came the oath of fidelity and obedience,
which each in his turn took by lifting up his hand.[469] ‘The people,’
says Calvin, ‘show no less alacrity in taking the oath than the senate
had shown diligence in publishing it.’[470] A large number of the
Genevese professed with all their heart the evangelical doctrines.

Nevertheless, the opinion of Saunier might be supported by weighty
reasons. If he was opposed to the imposition of a personal engagement,
it was because he knew that the confession was not the exact expression
of the faith of each individual; that some of those who would swear to
it did not understand it either wholly or in part; and that others,
while understanding it better, had only an intellectual belief, which
might fail when assailed by captious objections. Individuality did
not appear to be at that time adequately respected. But the public
profession of faith of July 29 had been so solemn a proceeding that
many rejoiced at it. There were however many people who abstained from
joining in it, because they were still attached to Roman Catholicism.
There were also a certain number who were unwilling to submit to moral
discipline. George Lesclefs and his servant said that they could not
bring their minds to swear to keep the ten commandments, because they
were so difficult.[471] Others refused to take the oath from a spirit
of political independence.

Nevertheless, we may assert in a general way that the people gave
their adhesion to the confession; and that was a glorious day for the
Reformation on which those hands were lifted up for the Gospel in the
old cathedral of St. Peter. The sky, indeed, was afterwards clouded,
but that day was clear and serene.

[Sidenote: THE OATH REFUSED BY MANY.]

Calvin might well rejoice in having obtained results so large in so
short a time; and his colleagues rejoiced with him. The aged Courault,
persecuted in France, had been compelled to take refuge in Basel; and
Calvin, knowing that although deprived of sight, ‘he was clear-sighted
with the eyes of the mind,’ had called him to Geneva. Courault was
happy to find himself a witness in that city of the triumph of the
Reformation, which had been so rudely assailed in his native country.
Farel, on his part, saw that God was crowning the work that had cost
him so much labor. He displayed at all times unwearied zeal and heroic
courage; and his continual prayers in behalf of the Reformation were
so fervent, that those who heard them felt themselves lifted up to
heaven, says Beza. Farel had cast the seed into the ground, and had
seen the stalk spring up. Now, to the time of sowing succeeded the time
of harvest. The ear had appeared, the grain was formed in the ear, and
another laborer, a robust harvestman, had come to cut the wheat and
bind the sheaves. But this excited no envy in him. On the contrary,
his Christian soul acknowledged with thanksgiving the precious gifts
bestowed on Calvin. The superiority of his intellect, the extent of
his acquirements, the accuracy of his judgment, and his faculty for
organization, filled the old pioneer with admiration and respect. He
was delighted to see a constantly increasing auditory thronging into
the cathedral to hear Calvin expound the Holy Scriptures. Thenceforth
the old man sat almost a disciple at the feet of the young doctor.
On all subjects he desired Calvin’s opinion, and he looked on him as
the man chosen of God to complete the Reformation. Calvin on his part
gave to Farel the honor which was due to him. ‘After you had begun to
build up this Church of Geneva, with great labor and danger,’ he said,
‘I came in unexpectedly in the first instance as _conductor_, and
afterwards I remained as your successor, to carry on the work which
you had well and happily begun.’ This cordial relation between Calvin
and Farel, in spite of the difference of their ages, is among the
most beautiful instances of the kind in history. Calvin subsequently
extolled what he called _their sacred friendship and union_, and said
affectionately, ‘You and I are one.’[472] There was between them, says
Calvin on another occasion, a good understanding and a friendship
which, consecrated by the name of Christ, was profitable to his Church.

The school, placed under the direction of Saunier, likewise flourished.
Lessons began at five o’clock in the morning.[473] The pupils were
instructed ‘in the three most excellent languages, Greek, Hebrew,
and Latin, in addition to the French, which, in the opinion of the
learned, is by no means to be despised.’ Mathurin Cordier, formerly
Calvin’s teacher, soon devoted himself to this task. Numerous scholars,
attracted to Geneva by the great work which was being achieved there,
came from Basel, Berne, Bienne, Zurich, and other places, to study
there. These messmates lived at the College, with Saunier, whose house
was ordered in a Christian manner. ‘Daily, before they sat down to
meat, one of them read aloud a chapter of the Bible and all the rest
listened. While seated at the table, they each repeated a sentence
of Holy Scripture.’[474] Thus were fashioned the strong men of the
sixteenth century. The system which excludes from the school the Bible
and even religion, that is to say, the regenerative and training
element, will never form the like.

[Sidenote: DISCIPLINE.]

The reformers, whose intercourse with each other was pleasant and
refreshing, enjoyed in addition the approval of the majority of
the people, and particularly of the magistrates. Receiving so much
encouragement in their ministry, they were brave, active, and
unwearied in their calling. Far from being weighed down with their
great task, they appeared rather to grow stronger under the burden;
and this is a distinctive mark of great men. If any difficulty arose,
if any village were in need of a preacher, Farel and Calvin applied
with confidence to the council, which usually acceded to their request,
and acted even with generosity.[475] When a good citizen pointed out,
February 13, that Calvin had not yet received anything, the council
decreed to present him with _six écus_.[476] The next day, Farel, with
his brother and Saunier, applied for the grant of citizenship; it was
resolved that they should receive it free of charge. Calvin did not
become a citizen of Geneva till a later period. Nor was he the only
one who deferred that matter. Other celebrated Frenchmen declined the
citizenship of Geneva, their city of refuge, on the ground that they
could not renounce France. That love for the old country was probably
one of the motives which led Calvin to put off for three-and-twenty
years becoming a citizen of the city of which he was the very soul. On
February 27 they presented to Saunier thirty measures of wheat; and, on
June 6, _six écus_ to Courault. The gifts were not large, but every age
has its own measure.

The council, which concerned itself about the wants of the ministers,
watched likewise, in conformity with the constitution, over the wants
of the Church and the purity of morals. Letters were written, February
7, at the request of Farel, to Besançon and to Neuchâtel, respecting
Olivétan’s Bible.[477] The lay magistrates were severe. On the 23d of
the same month, a player and sharper, who was cheating the people
out of their money, was sentenced to be exposed for an hour, with his
fraudulent cards hung round his neck. The ‘_grand Francois_,’ guilty of
impurity, had to give as a fine a halter, eighteen feet long, such as
is used for tying up cattle. A man and woman guilty of adultery, were
banished, June 1, for a year. On March 13 the council, intruding even
into the spiritual domain, determined to make arrangements about the
Lord’s Supper and other things.[478]

Thus Geneva took an important place both as a Church and a school.
Foreigners resorted to it, or sent their children there. The beauty of
its situation formed also a powerful attraction. Of all descriptions
of Geneva, the following is doubtless one of the most ancient. ‘Do
not imagine,’ said Saunier, ‘that Geneva is some frightful, almost
uninhabitable town, in the midst of barren and solitary rocks. The
streets, with a few exceptions, are broad and in good condition, and
there are several large public places. Encircled by a continuous chain
of mountains, it has nevertheless on all sides a tract of level country
extending round it in the form of a great theatre. As for the lake, it
is difficult to say in what respect it is of most value to the city,
whether for profit, for defence (_parement_), or for beauty. The water
is not at all muddy or turbid, but to the very bottom is clear as fine
glass, so that people take a wonderful pleasure in looking at it. To
sum up, the said town is situated on the frontiers of three great
countries, to wit, Gaul, Germany, and Italy, as it were a place marked
out (_députée_) for gatherings of merchants.’[479] Geneva was going to
be marked out for other gatherings. ‘Already Mathurin Cordier,’ says a
contemporary, ‘a man more skilful in training schools in the French
tongue than any man of our time has been, brought with him a large
number of learned men.’[480] We have already spoken elsewhere of the
arrival of young Englishmen at the foot of the Alps, for the sake of
enjoying intercourse with Calvin. Saunier’s description shows that the
reformers were not unobservant of the beauties of nature. They loved
them, and contemplated them at Geneva in the height and perfection of
their majesty.




                              CHAPTER V.

   CALVIN CONTENDS WITH FOREIGN DOCTORS, AND IS ACCUSED OF ARIANISM.

                        (MARCH TO JUNE, 1537.)


[Sidenote: ARRIVAL OF FOREIGN DOCTORS.]

[Sidenote: THE SPIRITUALS.]

The peace and satisfaction which were the fruit of the settled order,
and even of the beauty of the places in which these great changes had
been effected, did not long remain undisturbed. Some foreign doctors
came to Geneva, Herman of Liége and Andrew Benoît, the latter also a
native of the Netherlands, both of them belonging to that enthusiastic
sect, some of whose leaders Calvin had previously encountered
in France, and who called themselves the Spirituals.[481] These
sectaries had found their way into western Europe, but Germany and the
Netherlands were, above all, their proper countries. The German mind
has a philosophical and even mystical tendency, which gives rise to a
longing to penetrate deeper than the Bible itself into the knowledge
of divine things. The central position of Geneva, the important
revolution in politics and religion which had just been accomplished
there, excited in those sectaries the hope of establishing themselves
in the city for the purpose of spreading themselves afterwards over
France, Italy, and other countries. These new doctors, from the time of
their arrival, had labored to diffuse their opinions, and had gained
partisans. Among these were some members of the council.[482] Proud of
this first success, they expected to substitute in Geneva their dreams
for the Gospel. The claim set up by these Spirituals, of penetrating
further into the truth than the reformers did, gave them a certain
attractiveness for minds eager for novelties. They boldly announced
that they were willing to dispute with the preachers. As early as March
9 they were called before the council, and were invited to communicate
in writing the articles which they intended to maintain.[483] Herman
and Benoît complied with this request, and delivered their theses to
the council. The council took them into consideration on March 13. In
calling themselves the _Spirituals_, these men meant to assert that the
spirit alone acted in them. Their doctrine was a more or less gross
kind of Pantheism. They did not think, in general, ‘that the soul was
a substance, a creature having essence; it was merely, in their view,
the property which a man has of breathing, of moving, and of performing
other vital actions.[484] They said that in place of our souls it is
God who lives in us, and does in us all the actions pertaining to
life. God became the creature,’ adds Calvin, ‘and the latter was no
longer anything.’[485] An assassination having been committed at Paris,
Quintin, a leader among the Spirituals, replied to some who asked him
who committed it, ’Tis thou, ’tis I, ’tis God, for what thou and I
do, ’tis God that does it.’ They had also peculiar ideas respecting
Jesus Christ. They did not hold that he had been very man, but made
him a kind of phantom, as to his body. They held similar errors about
baptism, excommunication, the magistrate, oaths, and other matters.
We are not in possession of the articles which they presented to the
council, and it is probable that they did not put forward the most
offensive points of their system. But the majority of the council
‘believed that it would be dangerous to discuss those articles in
public, on account of the weakness (_tendrité_) of men’s minds. They
therefore determined to give them a hearing on the following day, March
14, but only in the Council of the Two Hundred.’[486]

The sensation created in the city by the presence of Herman and Benoît,
and the eagerness with which certain citizens were pleased to listen
to them, had not escaped the notice of the reformers. If these doctors
were not refuted, Geneva, withdrawn from the errors of the papacy,
might fall into the dreams of Pantheism. The reformers therefore asked
permission to attend the sitting. Herman and Benoît expounded their
system. The council wished to hush up the affair; but Farel, confident
in the force of truth, requested that it might be publicly discussed.
His entreaties were complied with, and the debate was fixed for the
next day, March 15.[487]

The disputation took place in the grand auditory of Rive, on March
15, 16, and 17, and on each occasion lasted the whole day. No report
of these debates has come down to us. But some notion may be formed
of them from the two tractates which Calvin devoted to the exposition
and refutation of the system.[488] The discussion was very animated.
The reformers so forcibly confuted, by the Word of God alone, the
doctrines advanced by the two Spirituals in the public disputation,
that the whole tribe thenceforth disappeared from that Church.[489]
The Council of the Two Hundred having assembled, March 18, declared
that the assailant was not _sufficient_, that is to say, that
his opinions were erroneous. But they remarked that this disputation
might beget differences, and that the faith might be imperilled. The
reformers were therefore forbidden for the future to engage in such
discussions. Then Herman and Benoît being called in, the syndics said
to them, ‘We have been quite willing to hear you, for we listen to
everybody, but _seeing that you are not able to prove the truth of
your propositions by Holy Scripture_, we have pronounced them to be
_contrary to the truth_. Are you willing to retract, and to return to
God and ask his forgiveness?’ ‘We submit to the will of God,’ they
replied, ‘but we will not by any means retract our words.’

[Sidenote: EXPULSION OF THE SPIRITUALS.]

Those of the Genevese who had taken them from the time of their coming
for good evangelical Christians had called them _brethren_. But these
foreigners had shown themselves very quarrelsome; and having refused
even to pray with the Christians of Geneva--an offensive sign of their
sectarian spirit--they were no longer called by the name of brethren.
However, no penalty was at that time imposed on them, in the hope
that they might be brought to more Christian sentiments. But that was
indulging in a mere illusion. It was therefore decreed, according
to the custom of the age, that these doctors, and every member of
their sect, should be banished for ever from Geneva, under pain of
death. ‘The most admirable feature of this business,’ said the early
biographers of Calvin, ‘is, that if some churches of Germany have been
delivered from these doctors, they were so by mere rigor of justice;
while at Geneva _the magistrate had no hand in it_.’[490] Certainly,
he did not employ against them either imprisonment or torture; Calvin
endeavored only to convince them by argument. But banishment, under
pain of death, is nevertheless a very palpable act of the magistrate.
On the other hand, it is also a mistake to say that the Registers
knew nothing of Calvin’s victory.[491] On the contrary, the decree of
the council was expressly based on the fact that the doctors had been
unable to prove the truth of their propositions by Holy Scripture.

These were not the only attacks which the reformers had to sustain at
the outset of their career. There were certain restless spirits who saw
with vexation Calvin, Farel, and Viret at the head of the Reformation
in French-speaking lands, and who wished to deprive them of their
position, that they might occupy it themselves. These new troubles,
caused by jealousy and ambition, were of a sharper kind, and lasted
longer.[492] Their originator was that doctor of the Sorbonne, Caroli,
whom we saw arrive from France at Geneva at the time of the great
disputation of 1535.[493] Caroli was a sort of theological adventurer.
He did not at heart care for the sacred end which the Reformation had
in view. An incurable levity, which would not allow him to adhere
to any party, a liking for anything which seemed to him new and
fashionable, a burning thirst for glory and for fortune, a craving for
liberty to satisfy his vicious inclinations, these were the feelings
which actuated him, and threw him into a camp which he soon abandoned
to seek in another the gratification of the same evil desires. Vain,
proud, cringing, and inconsistent, he appeared as an assailant of the
monks when a sort of reformation was in vogue in France. Next, when
the era of persecution had begun, he made his escape to Geneva. The
object of his dreams was to become a sort of bishop, to govern the
reformed churches in French Switzerland; and he proposed to establish
a doctrine which should hold a middle place between the Gospel and the
pope. He had made acquaintance with the principal cities of his future
diocese. From Geneva he had gone to Neuchâtel, and there he had become
pastor, and had married. We have seen him appointed first pastor at
Lausanne. ‘In every place that he visited he left some traces of his
baseness.’[494] He tacked before every breeze. In a little while he
passed from the Romish camp into the Protestant; then, because the
reformers remonstrated with him, he returned to his vomit, according
to the Scripture phrase; quitted the papal hierarchy a second time,
to associate with the evangelicals; and finally ended his roving and
wretched life at Rome. Caroli is one of the most despicable characters
of that epoch--one of those ecclesiastical Don Quixotes who boast of
smiting all their enemies. Besides vainglory, he had another passion
quite as intense--hatred. He detested Farel, who had known him at Paris
and had rebuked him for his vices. He detested Viret, who had once
preached on impurity before him; a sermon which Caroli, convicted by
his own conscience, thought was meant for him. In vain Viret assured
him that he had preached for everybody: Caroli never forgave him. And
lastly, the high esteem in which Calvin was held filled this Parisian
doctor with envy and jealousy. He was hardly settled at Lausanne when,
eager to realize his dreams, he demanded at Berne the oversight of
a certain number of pastors and of churches. The Bernese refused
this, and at the same time begged Viret to aid with his advice a
foreigner who did not perfectly know the country, and decreed that no
innovation should be introduced among the people by any pastor without
a preliminary deliberation of all the brethren.[495]

[Sidenote: CHARACTER OF CAROLI.]

Caroli was not at all inclined to submit to this rule. A fantastic
schoolman, he was fond of putting forward strange paradoxes, and
of raising discussions which irritated men’s minds and gave him an
opportunity of showing off his cleverness. That sort of thing was a
remnant of the Middle Ages; but the age of the Reformation demanded
a different method. Caroli was an anachronism. His rank as doctor
of the Sorbonne ought, in his view, to set him at the top of the
ecclesiastical hierarchy, before which the rude herdsmen of Helvetia
must bend. He meant to make a reformation _sui generis_, to advance
views peculiar to himself, and to set up doctrines to which no one
had before attained. An opportunity soon presented itself. Viret,
his young colleague, having gone to pay a visit to his friends at
Geneva, Caroli took advantage of his absence, and, ascending the
pulpit, read a series of theses tending to prove that prayers ought
to be made for the dead. ‘I have no intention,’ he said as he closed,
‘of taking lessons from a young man,’ thus pointing to Viret. It was
plain, from his gestures, his voice, his words so arrogant and so full
of tartness, that he was over-excited.[496] Viret, being informed by
one of his friends, soon returned, and rebuked him for his freak. But
Caroli, proud of what he impudently called his discovery, replied--‘I
do not believe in purgatory, nor do I suppose that the dead can be
comforted by the prayers of the living; those things are mere fictions.
But I believe that we ought to ask God to hasten his judgment for
the happiness of his saints and of all the members of the Church,
the Virgin, the prophets, and the apostles, who will be the first to
profit thereby.’[497] Caroli thus pitched his tent between Rome and
the Gospel, being neither with the one nor with the other, but being
merely himself. That was his wish. Had he only urged the Church to
say to the Lord, ‘Come quickly,’ he would have spoken in conformity
with Holy Scripture. But his intention was that the prayer should be
offered in favor of the dead, a pretence which finds no justification
in the Bible. Viret replied to him--‘You know that we ought not to
preach any merely private views without having first communicated
them to one another. If you have found in Scripture any instruction
which is unknown to me, I will freely embrace it; but if you preach
some erroneous doctrine, allow me, as your colleague, to make some
observations on it.’[498] That was just what Caroli did not want. He
answered Viret haughtily, and proudly maintained his doctrine.

[Sidenote: CAROLI AT LAUSANNE.]

Many friends of the Gospel looked to Calvin, who enjoyed their entire
confidence, and begged him to go immediately to Lausanne. This he did.
Farel would have liked to accompany him; but the Bernese requested
him to look after his own church and not after theirs. Delegates from
Berne were sent to Lausanne, and a kind of consistory was thus formed,
in which Calvin, it appears, stated the case. But the proud Caroli,
who thought it beneath his dignity to make any defence, refused in the
haughtiest manner to give the least explanation of his conduct. He was
greatly annoyed to find himself accused by Calvin, whose superiority
was so troublesome to him. He immediately formed his plan. He resolved
to turn against the reformer the sword with which the latter had
threatened him, and to plunge it into him up to the hilt. ‘If the
minister of Geneva,’ he exclaimed, ‘has shown so much zeal in bringing
this business before your assembly, it is a shameful conspiracy, the
only object of which is to ruin me completely.’ Viret then spoke, and
so clearly set forth the subterfuges and calumnies of Caroli, that
the assembly condemned him to make a retractation, regardless of his
_amour propre_. Astounded by a sentence so severe, this man, who so
easily passed from one extreme to another, humbled himself, and with
lamentings and tears asked for pardon. Calvin was touched by this
demeanor, and in the abundance of his moderation prayed the assembly to
spare Caroli the act which wounded his pride. Viret did the same. Their
request was granted. The doctor of the Sorbonne had then nothing better
to do than to retire quietly to his own house, with a grateful feeling
towards his two noble adversaries. But their well-meant interposition
had not really softened him; his humility was a mere feint. He was
determined at all cost to reach his end and become the foremost man in
the Church. Jealous of the influence exercised by Calvin, Farel, and
Viret in Switzerland, he said to himself that in order to get firmly
seated in the saddle, the man already riding must first be dismounted.
The ruin of these three doctors was the task which he had to undertake.
He felt sure of the secret support, at least at Geneva, of some of the
leading men; and he flattered himself that he should be able to involve
Calvin in hopeless embarrassment.[499] He resolved therefore to assume
the character of accuser, and to reduce his enemies to play the part of
the guilty and the accused.

People thought that they had done with this man, and the assembly was
on the point of breaking up, when he suddenly rose, with a preoccupied
look, as if he had some burden on his conscience of which he was
anxious to be rid. ‘For the glory of God,’ said he, speaking in a
declamatory tone, ‘for the honor of the lords of Berne, for the purity
of the faith, for the safety of the Church, for the public peace, and
for the relief of my own conscience, I have now to set before you,
my honorable lords, a matter on which I have long kept silence. The
silence must now be broken. I must speak. There are in the city of
Geneva, as well as in your country, many ministers who are tainted with
the Arian heresy.’ Putting himself forward like a second Athanasius, he
named a great number of ministers, good men, whom he declared guilty
of the error of Arius, but without giving any evidence at all.[500]
Calvin was among the first in this catalogue of heretics. To accuse him
of being an Arian required an audacity and a passion carried to the
pitch of madness. It appears that he was even accused, in common with
his friends, of maintaining the errors of the Spaniard Servetus.[501]
The Genevese theologians had very recently encountered and defeated an
Arian at Geneva, Claude of Savoy. There was something more than passion
in this attack; there was absurdity. Calvin leaning towards Deism,
indeed! The Reformation was not a beginning of Deism, with which stupid
enemies have charged it: it was a reëstablishing of Christianity.

[Sidenote: CALVIN ACCUSED OF ARIANISM.]

The reformer was struck with astonishment. ‘It had never entered into
my imagination,’ he wrote, ‘that we had to fear being accused on this
point.’[502] Calvin perceived the scope of the attack which Caroli had
just made. If he were to remain under this charge, his ministry would
be compromised, his zeal suspected, his labors fruitless. Discord would
be thrown into the evangelical camp, and Rome exult to see the most
devoted champions of the Reformation accused of denying the divinity of
the Saviour. The reformer immediately rose; and without any exhibition
of violence, with which his enemies are always ready to reproach him,
he pointed out with much spirit the inconsistency of his opponent.
‘Only a few days ago,’ he said, ‘Caroli invited me to his table. I was
at that time a _very dear brother_. He bade me present his compliments
to Farel; he treated as Christians all those whom he looks on to-day as
heretics, and protested that he wished to maintain for ever a brotherly
union with us. Where, at that time, was the glory of God, where the
purity of the faith and the unity of the Church?’ Then, turning towards
the doctor of the Sorbonne--‘How could you,’ he said, ‘conscientiously
celebrate the holy supper on two occasions with an Arian associate?
From what source have you learnt that I am tainted with that heresy?
Tell me, for I will clear myself of that infamy.’ As Caroli brought
forward no evidence, the reformer appealed to the catechism which he
had recently published. ‘This is the faith,’ said he, ‘which I have but
lately professed. We confess that we believe in the Father, in the Son,
and in the Holy Spirit; and when we name the Father, the Son, and the
Spirit, we do not imagine to ourselves three gods. But we believe that
Scripture and the experience of piety show us the Father, the Son, and
the Spirit in simplest divine unity.’[503]

Caroli was not by any means satisfied. The words in his view essential
were missing. Calvin thought it advisable, in works of a practical and
popular character, to avoid the use of expressions which are not found
in holy Scripture. Therefore he had avoided the use, in the passage
cited, of the terms _Trinity_, _substance_, or _persons_. Luther had
done the same. ‘This term, _Trinity_,’ said he, ‘is nowhere to be
found in holy Scripture; it was invented by men. Moreover the word
is frigid, and it is far better to say _God_ than _Trinity_.’[504]
Calvin, who was full of spirit and life, was afraid that by the use of
these theological terms Christianity should be placed solely in the
understanding of the man and of the child, and not in his conscience,
his heart, his will, and his works. He had employed them the year
before in the first edition of his _Institution_, which was intended
for professed theologians:[505] but he had excluded them both from his
_Confession_, prepared chiefly for the laity, and from his _Catechism_,
composed for children. All this did not pacify Caroli, who, if he was
orthodox, was only orthodox in the head. He alleged that if Calvin
was innocent of Arianism, he was guilty of Sabellianism. ‘You will be
under suspicion on that matter,’ said he, ‘until you have subscribed
the Athanasian creed.’ ‘My practice,’ replied Calvin, ‘is not to
approve of anything as in conformity with the Word of God until after
due consideration.’ Caroli, thinking that the Athanasian creed was
compromised by this reserve, flew into a passion and cried out, ‘that
this avowal was unworthy of a Christian.’[506]

[Sidenote: CONVOCATION OF A SYNOD.]

Up to this moment Calvin had restrained himself; but he felt deeply
the injustice of the doctor’s accusations. When he had received an
unmerited blow, he not seldom replied by striking another himself. The
blow was just, but sometimes rather sharp. ‘You will not find any one,’
he said to Caroli, ‘more earnest than I am in maintaining the divinity
of Jesus Christ. I think that I have given a sufficiently clear account
of my faith. My works are in everybody’s hands, and all the orthodox
churches approve my doctrine. But as for you, what evidence have
you ever given of your faith, except possibly in public-houses and
the haunts of vice? For it is in such places that you have hitherto
practised.’

Caroli, knowing all that could be told of his abandoned life, and
as cowardly as he was rash, trembled when he found that Calvin was
approaching that subject. In order to break the force of the blow, he
retracted his charge, and declared that the writings of his opponent
were good; that he had always spoken well of the Holy Trinity; and that
no accusation could be drawn up against him, ‘provided that he did not
support the cause of Farel.’ Caroli feared Farel less than Calvin, and
hated him more. Viret then spoke, and compelled the presumptuous doctor
to retract what concerned himself (_Viret_). ‘These retractations are
not sufficient,’ said the two reformers; ‘we mean to defend likewise
the cause of Farel and of our other absent brothers, whom you have
unjustly accused.’ The delegates of Berne, when they saw what an
important character the debate was assuming, declared that it was
necessary to carry it before a general assembly, and undertook to get
one held. The meeting then broke up.[507]

These circumstances occurred in February. Calvin, on his return to
Geneva, fearing that the Bernese delegates might be slow to fulfil
their promise, and perceiving moreover that this affair concerned the
Church rather than the state, persuaded the ministers of Geneva to
write to the ministers of Berne, pressing them to take the matter in
hand.[508] He wrote himself to Megander, the chief among the Bernese
pastors. ‘I cannot find words,’ he said, ‘adequately to express the
imminent peril to which the Church will be exposed if this business
be indefinitely postponed. The influence which your position gives
you lays on you more than any one else the obligation to use all your
efforts to promote an early meeting of the assembly. You cannot imagine
how severely the blow struck by Caroli has shaken the foundation which
we have laid. People are saying, especially, even in country places,
that we ought to begin by agreeing among ourselves before we think of
converting others. Let us not allow the coat of the Gospel, woven in
one piece, to be rent by wicked men. Do all that is possible to secure
the meeting, before Easter, of all the French-speaking ministers who
live under the government of your republic.’[509] Easter fell in that
year on April 1.

As the reformer received no satisfactory reply, he set out for Berne
in the first fortnight in March, and implored the magistrates, the
councillors, and the pastors to convoke the synod immediately. This
was refused him, probably on account of the business which accumulates
during the weeks preceding the feast of Easter; but they promised him
that the assembly should be convoked immediately after Easter.[510]
We see what courage and activity Calvin displayed; this was one of
the signs of his genius. Farel, on the contrary, was worn out by the
distress of mind which this affair had occasioned him. His condition
was afflicting to his friends. ‘I should never have believed,’ said
Calvin to Viret, ‘that with his iron constitution he could have been so
pulled down.’ Farel’s age and his immense labors, however, accounted
for his state. Calvin, alarmed at the prospect of losing so invaluable
a fellow-laborer, wrote to Viret: ‘It is indispensable that you should
return to us, unless we are prepared to see Farel die of grief. If we
allow a breach to be made in the Genevese Church, I am afraid that
schism will tear it to pieces.’[511] Instead of diminishing, the
energy of Calvin appeared to increase, for he felt the justice of his
cause. ‘I am ready,’ he said, ‘to maintain the contest with the utmost
energy. The charges, first of Arianism, and then of Sabellianism, have
not greatly disturbed us; our ears have been long accustomed to such
calumnies, and we are confident that they will all end in smoke.’[512]
The valiant champion therefore awaited fearlessly the convocation of
the synod. The council of Geneva, on receiving the letters from the
lords of Berne respecting this gathering, invited the _preachers_ to
go thither; and on May 11 the treasurer placed in Farel’s hands fifty
florins, to cover the expenses of the journey.[513]

[Sidenote: SYNOD OF LAUSANNE.]

The assembly met at Lausanne. On May 13[514] there were seen entering
the church of St. Francis the banderet Rodolph de Graffenried, Nicholas
Zerkinden, secretary of state, the pastor Grosmann, commonly called
Megander, and another deputy from Berne. From Geneva came Calvin,
Farel, and Courault; about twenty ministers from Neuchâtel, and a
hundred pastors from the Pays de Vaud, among the latter, Viret. Caroli,
it seems, came with a bag such as barristers are accustomed to carry,
containing the brief of his proceedings.[515] Megander was president.
He stated that the assembly had met in consequence of the charge
brought by Caroli against several ministers, of not believing in the
Trinity, nor in the divinity of Jesus Christ. Then addressing Viret, a
subject of Berne, he inquired what was his opinion on that doctrine.
‘When we confess one only God,’ replied the pastor of Lausanne, ‘we
comprehend the Father, with his eternal Word, and his Spirit, in one
single and divine essence. Nevertheless we do not confound the Father
with the Word, nor the Word with the Spirit.’ Caroli rose and said
with bitterness, ‘This profession is too short, too dry, too obscure.
No mention is made in it of the _Trinity_, nor of _substance_, nor
of _person_.’ Then taking a declamatory tone, he began to recite the
Nicene creed, afterwards the Athanasian creed, making undignified
gestures with his hands and arms, and moving his head and his body
about in such an extraordinary way that the grave assembly could not
refrain from laughter. In closing his speech, he said to his adversary,
‘Nothing can clear you from the charge of heresy except your signing
the three œcumenical creeds.’[516]

[Sidenote: CAROLI UNMASKED.]

Calvin listened to him without interrupting him; but he could no longer
keep silence. A justification on his part was almost superfluous. He
had fully professed the doctrine in his popular writings; he had even,
as we have seen, employed the terms of the school in his theological
_Institution_. But the point of importance for the safety of the Church
was to make his adversary known, to tear the mask from his face. That
man, of dissolute life, destitute of convictions, destitute of faith,
whose only thought was how to get possession of the highest place,
and who was endeavoring to conceal the licentiousness of his evil life
under the pretence of religion, dared to accuse, with hypocritical
lips, the faithful servants of God. A course so revolting roused
Calvin’s indignation; and from his lips fell such earnest words as
were inspired by the fraud, the vices, and the shamelessness of his
adversary. He completely stripped the man. ‘What wickedness this is,’
said he, ‘without any cause but mere lawless passions, to disturb the
Church and to check the progress of the Gospel by bringing atrocious
accusations against persons entirely innocent, who have rendered the
most conspicuous services to the truth! Caroli sets up a quarrel with
us about the distinction of the persons in God. I am going to examine
him in turn, but I take up the subject at a higher point, and I ask
him if only he believes in God. I declare before God and before men,
that he has no more faith in the divine Word than the dog and the swine
that trample under foot holy things.’ Some will perhaps exclaim against
this language, but it must be remembered that Calvin took these two
words from holy Scripture, where they are used to mark two different
characters, of both of which we must equally beware.[517] ‘Give not
that which is holy unto the dogs,’ said Jesus, ‘neither cast ye your
pearls before swine.’ The swine represent men defiled by debauchery,
and the dog is the beast that barks, pursues, and bites. These two
kinds of excess precisely characterized Caroli.

But Calvin did not stop there. He did not mean that people should be
able to say that the ministers were not cleared of the charges brought
against them. He therefore made a confession which had been beforehand
approved by his colleagues. ‘When we distinguish the Father, his
eternal Word, and his Spirit,’ said he, ‘we believe, in common with
ecclesiastical writers, that in the simple unity of God there are
three hypostases or substances, which, although they be one sole and
identical essence, are nevertheless not confounded with each other.
With respect to Jesus Christ,’ he added, ‘before taking on himself our
flesh, he was the eternal Word, begotten of the Father before time was,
very God, of one same essence, power, and majesty with the Father,
Jehovah himself, who has ever existed of himself, and gives to others
the property of existing.’[518]

[Sidenote: CALVIN AND THE EARLY CREEDS.]

This declaration baffled Caroli; and now, after having very strongly
asserted that Calvin was not orthodox enough, he began to cry out that
he was too much so. ‘What,’ said he, ‘you attribute to Jesus Christ
the name and the nature of Jehovah; you say that he has of himself
the divine essence!’ Calvin replied, ‘If we attentively consider
the difference between the Father and the Word, we must acknowledge
that the Word proceeds from the Father. But if we concern ourselves
with the essence itself of the Word, so far as the Word is God with
the Father, all that is said of the one must likewise be said of the
other.’[519] Caroli, giving up the matter, took refuge in the words.
‘In your confession,’ said he, ‘there is not the word _Trinity_, there
is not the word _person_.’ Then, wishing to compel Calvin and the other
ministers to adopt the confessions made by men,--‘I demand,’ said he,
‘that you sign the three ancient creeds.’ Calvin and the ministers
who were with him would have given their signature under other
circumstances, but they now refused it for very wise reasons. ‘Caroli,’
they said, ‘by compelling us to sign, wishes to throw suspicion on our
faith. We do not consider it fitting to show him so much deference.
Moreover, we will not, by our example, promote the introduction into
the Church of a _tyranny_ which would brand every man as a heretic who
will not express himself in terms dictated by another.’[520] Herein
Calvin gave proof at the same time of a magnanimity and a fidelity
which do him honor. Every Church, in his opinion, ought to confess its
doctrine, but he would rather that the confession should be the product
of the life and the faith of those who make it; and not a mere return
to ten or twelve centuries back, in order to seek the truth in the
antiquated phrases of another age. He professed with all his heart the
doctrine enunciated in the early creeds, the Nicene and the so-called
Athanasian, which set forth, perhaps with superfluity of words, but
nevertheless with much force, a faith which is dear to Christian men.
But he felt that these writings were wanting in evangelical simplicity.
The phrases ‘God of God, Light of Light’ (Θεὸς ἐκ Θεοῦ, Φῶς ἐκ Φωτὸς),
used in the Nicene creed, appeared to him less apostolic than Oriental
in their character. It shocked him that the _Quicunque_, better known
under the name of the Athanasian creed, just at the time when it is
going to make subtle distinctions, such as the faith of a simple
Christian man cannot comprehend, should begin by asserting--‘Whosoever
will be saved, before all things it is necessary that he hold the
Catholic faith (that of the creed). Which faith, except every one do
keep whole and undefiled, without doubt he shall perish everlastingly.’
Caroli’s ignorance as to this profession of faith was so great that
he believed it was drawn up at Nicæa in A.D. 325, and by
Athanasius. This was startling to Calvin. The creed appears, in
fact, to have been formed gradually in the African church, some of
its formulæ being met with towards the close of the seventh century;
but it did not exist as a whole until the age of Charlemagne, nearly
five centuries after the council of Nicæa. That was an age in which,
if the doctrine of the divine nature was truly stated, the doctrines
of justification by grace and of the new birth by the Spirit were
obscured. Semi-Pelagianism was more and more invading the Church;
literary and scientific culture, decried by the monks as belonging to
paganism, was becoming rare; the state, not content with deciding on
the exterior relations of the Church, published edicts on the articles
of faith or of doctrine; miracles were alleged to be wrought by relics;
the bishops of Rome assumed the title of universal bishop, a title
branded by Gregory the Great as antichristian; the controversy about
images was especially agitating men’s minds; both the Church and the
state were in the utmost confusion; the bishops took up arms against
the lords; the clergy, both regular and secular, were without culture
and without discipline; and, in one word, Christianity had lost the
life which was peculiarly its own. It was, doubtless, the existence
of this melancholy condition of society at the period in which the
_Quicunque_ was formed that induced Calvin to make reservations, and to
declare that it was to the belief in one only God that he made oath,
and not to the belief of Athanasius, whose creed no genuine Church
would have accepted.[521]

[Sidenote: SYNOD OF BERNE.]

The synod, having heard both parties and maturely considered the
matter, acknowledged the confession of the Genevese ministers to
be good and orthodox; and they condemned Caroli, and declared him
henceforth unworthy to fulfil the functions of the ministry. ‘We
have, by our refutation,’ said Calvin, ‘exhausted all that bag of
Caroli’s;[522] with regard to ourselves there now remains not the
slightest suspicion.’ Caroli appealed from the sentence of the synod
to the lords of Berne. Who was right? Who was wrong? Calvin or
Caroli? Judgments have differed on the point. Some have said, ‘The
denunciation by Caroli was not altogether unfounded; it is no wonder
that he declared himself dissatisfied and maintained his charge.’
Others have added that Calvin fell on his adversary with a violence
which made the assembly tremble, and which afforded the first instance
of that fearful anger with which so often afterwards he struck down
those who were against him.[523] This is not our opinion. As to his
expressions, Calvin’s defence is not so terrible, so passionate, if we
call to mind the sort of man with whom he had to deal; and as for the
hardest words of the reformer, they are, as we have seen, two which he
adopted from the Saviour himself. As to the substance of the defence,
he would not bring forward, as Roman Catholics do, human authorities;
he preferred to hold fast to the Word of God. That is his chief glory,
and therein does he show himself a genuine reformer, as Luther did. His
adversary was an immoral character, and the Reformation would make no
covenant with immorality. Who would blame him for that? Calvin could
not consent that a dissolute man, whose hand was stained with the
blood of the saints, should pass for an Athanasius, one of the noblest
of the ancient doctors of the Church. He was, above all, profoundly
afflicted by the thought that the blow struck by that man was shaking
the foundations of the spiritual building which was being erected to
the glory of God.

These debates made a great noise in other lands. All kinds of rumors
were current at a distance, and evil reports were circulated about the
Genevese reformers. People were asking one another what this contest
between Caroli and Calvin was about, and they waited impatiently for
the issue of it. French vivacity had been offensive to some theologians
of German Switzerland. Megander himself complained to Bullinger of the
annoyance which those turbulent Frenchmen had caused him.[524] People,
however, were as easily agitated in German Switzerland, and even in
the land of Luther. Some Catholics began to attach importance to these
struggles, and to take advantage of them. Letters were exchanged on
the subject. Bucer and Capito wrote from Strasburg, the former to
Melanchthon, the latter to Farel; and Myconius wrote from Basel to
the assembly itself. This must needs invest with more solemnity the
judgment on the appeal which was about to be heard at Berne.

‘On May 24, Guillaume Farel requested of the council of Geneva to send
to that city Master Cauvin (Calvin) for any battle (_journée_) there
was to be, to take part in the disputation. Upon which it was resolved
that he should go.’[525] Berne had shown a certain favor towards
Caroli. It might therefore be feared that the judgment pronounced at
Lausanne would not be confirmed. We cannot tell what the sentence would
have been if it had been pronounced by the state authorities. But the
council, finding that it was a question of doctrine, had convoked at
Berne the synod of the Bernese Church for the end of May. The debate
was opened in the presence of the great council, which doubtless took
part so far in the cause. The would-be Athanasius supported his charge
with confidence and a haughty spirit, assuming to play in the sixteenth
century the part which the great bishop of Alexandria had played in the
fourth. Calvin completely justified both himself and his colleagues.
Consequently the reformer was once more entirely acquitted, and
declared free not only from all fault but also from all suspicion. As
for Caroli, he was pronounced a slanderer, and as such condemned.

[Sidenote: CONDEMNATION OF CAROLI.]

When that was over, the lords of Berne inquired of Calvin, Farel, and
Viret whether Caroli was, so far as they knew, guilty in any respect,
either in his private life or especially in his ministry. As soon as
he heard these words, the doctor of the Sorbonne, seeing that his own
turn was come, was terror-struck, and vehemently opposed the inquiry.
‘Those whom I have just accused of great crimes,’ said he, ‘cannot be
allowed to bring formal charges against me.’ ‘You have indeed accused
them,’ replied the Bernese, ‘and without being able to substantiate
your charges. Why then should they not be allowed to accuse you?’ And
the doctors were enjoined to communicate anything they knew with regard
to him. Thereupon this man, who had no heart, no moral sentiment,
was disconcerted; and as he dreaded above all the revelations of his
adversaries, he fancied that the best way to avert them was to accuse
himself. He began therefore to confess the faults with which he knew
that Farel and his friends were well acquainted--the debaucheries to
which he had addicted himself in France, the meanness with which he had
dissembled his sentiments in matters of religion, and the cruel perfidy
which had prompted him to deliver to death two young Christians whose
way of thinking he himself approved. It was a strange sight! Here was a
singular penitent, without repentance and without scruple, assuming a
contrite air and confessing his faults solely because he hoped in that
way to secure exemption from punishment. ‘A devil’s penitent!’ said
Tertullian in such cases.

Farel had let him speak; nevertheless he did not think that he was
thereby discharged from the injunction which had been given him. He
was acquainted with certain traits of Caroli’s life which might give
the lords of Berne the intelligence of which they were in need. He
narrated the shameful licentiousness of the man, who had lived at Paris
with women of the vilest reputation, and had actually been accused of
keeping five or six at a time. He showed how two young men, carried
away by their zeal against images, had taken it into their heads to
hang some of them; and how that same Caroli, who at that time professed
that the worship of images diverts men from the knowledge of the true
God, had caused these youths to be kept in the prison into which they
had been cast until two judges arrived, who had them delivered over to
the executioners. Viret related the discussion which he had held with
Caroli on the subject of prayers for the dead; and, at the request of
the Bernese, reported various details of his conduct, among others his
drunkenness, which had more than once exposed him to the derision of
the public.

[Sidenote: BERNE PROMOTES THE REFORMATION.]

In consequence of these debates, Caroli was deprived of his functions
by the synod. The great council of Berne confirmed this sentence;
pronounced Farel, Calvin, and Viret innocent of the charges brought
against them; condemned Caroli to banishment as guilty of slander
and other excesses; and remitted the cause to the consistory to be
formally terminated. As the presumptuous doctor was unwilling to
submit to that authority, the parties were summoned before the civil
magistrates (_avoyers_) and the councils. Calvin, Farel, and Viret
accordingly presented themselves, June 6, but Caroli did not appear.
An usher, sent by the lords of Berne to seek him, brought word that he
had disappeared.[526] He had in fact fled early in the morning, and had
taken the road to Soleure. From that place he withdrew into France, to
the cardinal of Tournon, the great enemy of the Reformation. The latter
obtained absolution for Caroli from the pope. The wretched man had
hoped that, by returning into the Roman Church, he should get a good
benefice; but he found that he was held in equal contempt by Catholics
and Protestants. To close the affair, it was agreed to approve the
terms Trinity, substance, and persons (Calvin himself had made use of
them); but at the same time that if any pious man declined to employ
them, ‘he should not be cast out of the Church, nor should be looked on
as one who thought wrongly as to the faith.’[527]

This episode in Calvin’s life shows us not only his firm attachment
to the truth, which everyone acknowledges, but likewise a spirit of
freedom which is ordinarily denied to him. It is clear that with
him the Word of God stood before all, and that the faith, the life,
and essence of Christianity had more value in his eyes than mere
traditional terms, which are not to be found in the Scriptures.




                              CHAPTER VI.

                     CALVIN AT THE SYNOD OF BERNE.

                          (SEPTEMBER, 1537.)


This was not the only triumph which Calvin achieved, nor the only synod
of Berne in which he took part. Keen debates were at that time going
on in the evangelical Churches of Switzerland. They had gradually
arisen after the disaster of Cappel in 1531. In the canton of Soleure
the Reformation had indeed been crushed by the intervention of the
Catholics, although the majority in the country and a minority in
the town were Protestants. But other cantons had remained faithful
to the Reform. In Bullinger, Zurich had found a worthy successor to
Zwingli; and Oswald Myconius happily filled the place of the amiable
Œcolampadius at Basel. Berne, not satisfied with having adopted the
Reformation herself, eagerly promoted its establishment everywhere.
The great question which was then under discussion was this--Should
the Swiss Churches unite themselves with the Lutheran Churches or not?
Bucer, at Strasburg, warmly advocated the union; and the magistrates,
above all those of Berne, were not at all opposed to it. They had
political skill enough to perceive that the Church of the Reformation,
then so formidably threatened, had need to combine its whole forces.
The pastors of Berne, Haller, Megander, and Kolb, were desirous of
extending a friendly hand to Luther; but those free Swiss, disciples
and friends of Zwingli, disliked the equivocal formulæ of Bucer. The
Zuricher Megander, in particular, a learned professor and an eloquent
preacher, but of rash character, violent and somewhat domineering,
designated by his opponents the _ape of Zwingli_,[528] had set himself
the task of maintaining at Berne the theology of the Zurich reformer.
As Haller and Kolb were then enfeebled by age and ill-health, Megander
exercised a powerful influence over the country pastors; and the
magistrates themselves, aware of his abilities, committed to his hands
the most important affairs. The Zurichers had drawn up a confession on
the Lord’s supper in conformity with Bucer’s wishes. Basel, St. Gall,
and Schaffhausen had approved it; but Megander induced his colleagues
to reject it. The French diplomatists also, who were anxious to obtain
the assistance of the Swiss and German Protestants against Charles
V., said--‘All the Swiss towns agree with Luther except these Bernese
blockheads, who walk backwards like crabs, and stick obstinately to an
opinion which they cannot possibly defend.’[529]

[Sidenote: THE ZWINGLIANS AT BERNE.]

The Bernese magistrates, however, were not willing to break with their
allies. The war against Savoy, which they had undertaken in 1536,
for the defence of Geneva and the occupation of the Pays de Vaud,
had convinced them of the need of their support. Consequently, they
sent delegates to the four colloquies which were held that same year
at Basel, to take into consideration the agreement with the doctors
of Wittenberg. But the council, so far from breaking with Megander,
put him at the head of these theologians. So the confession which was
prepared at the first of these colloquies, in January 1536 (the second
conference of Basel and the first of Switzerland,) when speaking of
eating the body and drinking the blood of Christ, added that this
took place only in a spiritual sense. This displeased Bucer. The
Zwinglians, in turn, called him ‘a doubled-faced man,’ and said that
this pretended peacemaker brought division into the Helvetic Churches.
It was to no purpose that his defence was undertaken by Myconius, who,
since 1532, had presided as overseer of the Church at Basel, and the
learned professor Grynæus. The Zwinglian party would not hear a word
about an agreement with the _Strasburg trimmer_. Various circumstances
occurred to bring about a change in this state of things. The Swiss
and the Bernese themselves were touched by the beautiful letter which
Luther had written to the burgomaster of Basel, in which he spoke
approvingly of the confession drawn up in that city. The aged Kolb,
pastor of Berne, had died at the end of 1535; and on February 25,
1536, Haller also had passed into the unseen world. A great change
then took place in Berne. Kunz, a man of a very different spirit from
Zwingli and Haller, became pastor in the place of Kolb. Having studied
at Wittenberg, he was a passionate admirer of Luther and of his
doctrine. Of ardent temperament, Kunz longed to promote the triumph of
his master’s doctrine, and so much the more as he was his inferior in
respect to the living faith of the Gospel. Sebastian Meyer, a former
Franciscan, who from the beginning of his ministry had been remarkable
for the violence of his discourses, and who was a friend of Bucer, had
taken the place of Haller. The council had probably been influenced in
the election of these men by the Strasburg doctors, with whose projects
the members were more and more pleased. Thus it seemed likely that in
Berne the Lutheran party would succeed the Zwinglian. The new pastors,
however, did not immediately set up their claim; they rather applied
themselves to the preparation of men’s minds, and their conquests
were very numerous, especially among politicians. But Megander, the
inflexible Zwinglian, still kept the upper hand; and it was he who
spoke in the name of Berne in the Swiss assemblies. Bucer, doubtless,
had him in mind when he complained to Luther ‘of those untractable
heads which are found in Switzerland, which for every trifle make so
much ado.’[530]

[Sidenote: A PATCHED-UP PEACE.]

The new pastors of Berne, encouraged by their friends abroad, threw
off the restraint which they had at first imposed on their speech.
Sebastian Meyer, in particular, giving way to his natural disposition,
thoroughly headlong and incautious, taught publicly that in the supper
the body of Christ is truly eaten and his blood truly drunk, but took
care to add, _by faith_. Kunz supported him. The conflict thus began.
Megander and Erasmus Ritter started up to oppose this doctrine; and
Meyer did not hesitate to say in the colloquies that the doctrine of
the supper had never been rightly taught in the canton of Berne. The
Bernese council convoked a synod, at which three hundred ministers
of the German and French cantons of Switzerland were present. Meyer,
together with Kunz, vividly depicted the evils which would be involved
in a rejection of the agreement. Erasmus Ritter, with Megander, replied
that an agreement was certainly very much to be desired, but that the
truth must not be sacrificed to it. The Zwinglian party had the best
of it. They agreed to stand by the second confession of Basel, and to
avoid the use of terms which gave origin to the disputes; such as,
_corporal_, _real_, _natural_, _supernatural_, _invisible_, _carnal_,
_miraculous_, _inexpressible presence_. But this patched-up peace was
of short duration. The secret correspondence between Bucer and Luther
having been published, the Zwinglians were scandalized, people’s minds
were thrown into agitation, and the edifice of concord, which they had
toiled to rear, threatened to crumble away. Bucer then applied to the
council of Berne, and requested it to convoke a synod at which he might
be allowed to vindicate himself. ‘This whole business of the supper,’
said he, ‘is a mere dispute about words, but it is of the utmost
importance to put an end to it; and I appeal to the justice of the
Bernese magistrates, who cannot allow a man, whoever he may be, to be
condemned before he is heard.’ Another synod was consequently convoked
at Berne, for the month of September.[531]

Everybody was aware of the importance of this assembly. Bucer and
Capito arrived in the city, provided with a letter of introduction
from the magistrates of Strasburg, and accompanied by two theologians
from Basel, Myconius and Grynæus, who though sincerely adhering to
the reformed party, earnestly desired the union. Almost at the same
time, three ministers from the French cantons, who had been specially
invited, entered Berne; they were Calvin, Farel, and Viret. Those who
knew that at Geneva they allowed neither unleavened bread nor baptismal
fonts, nor the feasts and rites to which the Lutherans were strongly
attached, could entertain no doubt that these bold champions would
take the side of the Zwinglians. The pastors of the canton of Berne
were represented only by delegates of classes. The government, fearing
lest the spirit of discord should mar the meeting, requested Bucer
and Capito to confine themselves to their own justification, and not
to meddle with other matters. They were not even permitted to preach,
except on condition that they did not introduce disputed topics in
the pulpit. The assembly met at the Town Hall, in the presence of the
two councils of the republic, and under the presidency of the mayor
(_Schultheiss_) de Watteville. After the customary formalities, this
magistrate invited the Strasburgers to begin. ‘Union in matters which
concern the glory of God and the benefit of the Church,’ said Bucer,
‘is already established in a great number of kingdoms, duchies, and
principalities; and the churches of the Swiss confederation form almost
the only exception, it is thus that Satan opposes the kingdom of God.
Yes, it is to Satan that are owing those suspicions which are prevalent
respecting the agreement which we are striving to bring about. We
demand that passion should be silenced, and that God should be regarded
rather than men. You have lent one ear to calumny, lend the other now
to the voice of truth. If you condemn us, you will condemn many other
Churches, and particularly that Church whose representatives met at
Smalcalde, and which includes within its pale many learned and pious
men.’ Bucer next, desirous of clearing himself from the reproaches
which had been addressed to him, pointed out that Zwingli and Luther
had set out from two different points of view; Zwingli striving to keep
as far away as possible from the Roman dogma of transubstantiation,
and Luther endeavoring to maintain that there is nevertheless some kind
of real presence in the bread. In making afterwards his own confession
of faith, he said, ‘No, the bread and the wine are not mere signs;
the presence of Christ by faith is not a mere logical presence, not
imaginary, such as that which I have when I say, for instance, that I
now see my wife at Strasburg.[532] Faith requires something higher than
that. When I say with you, Christ is present in a celestial manner,
and with Luther, Christ is present in an essential manner, I express
fundamentally one and the same faith.’ On the following day, Capito
coming to the support of his colleague, preached a sermon in which he
endeavored to show that Zwingli and Œcolampadius were in agreement with
Luther. They were so on the essential point of seeking and finding in
the supper a true communion with the Saviour.

[Sidenote: BUCER’S VIEWS.]

Megander had been charged with the duty of speaking on behalf of the
synod. Brevity and moderation had been recommended, lest any imprudent
word should give rise to a dispute. For him this task was not an easy
one. In fact, the next day he attacked Bucer and Capito with some
vehemence, upbraiding them for being with Luther rather than with the
Swiss, and with having, in other places, signed _certain acts_ which
the Swiss could not sign. ‘I have,’ said he, in drawing to a close,
‘some letters in which Bucer is spoken of. However, I think better
of him than those letters, and I should be pleased if we could agree
with him.’ Unhappily, they were far enough from such agreement. The
discussion grew warm. ‘You teach children in your catechism,’ said
Bucer, ‘to receive a sign in the supper, without reminding them of the
thing signified.’ ‘How then,’ exclaimed some of the Bernese ministers,
‘can you pretend that we hold the same faith?’ ‘Let Bucer speak,’
said Megander; ‘we will reply to him in the afternoon.’ But, in that
afternoon sitting, Bucer began anew to discourse to the Swiss about the
sacrament. ‘Enough of these homilies,’ said Megander, impatiently. ‘You
shut our mouths,’ said Bucer. ‘Let all those,’ said Megander, ‘who have
anything to say speak freely.’ But not one of the Bernese pastors rose.

A good understanding seemed impossible. The leaders on both sides
were angry and provoked each other. The vessel of concord, built by
the careful toil of the pastors of Strasburg, was violently tossed
and was going to founder in the Helvetic waters. Disagreeing in
doctrine, said one of those who were present on this occasion, there
was nothing between them but debate, a deadly plague in a Church. Where
were they to find the last plank, the desperate resource for escape
from shipwreck? They must founder, or be saved as if by miracle. A
young man, of only eight-and-twenty, but known for his love of the
Holy Scriptures and his slight respect for tradition, was sorrowfully
contemplating these discussions. It was John Calvin, he who called the
discussions ‘a deadly plague’ for the Church. His convictions were free
and spontaneous. They did not proceed, as with others, from a desire
for compromise, but from a perception of what is the essence of the
faith. He would not at any price have sought some expedient for the
union of minds by a sacrifice of truth. But he knew by experience the
power of the Holy Spirit; and he was the man called to stand between
the two armies, to get the sword returned to its sheath, and to found
unity and peace.

[Sidenote: INTERVENTION OF CALVIN.]

We almost hesitate to report his words, because they will be difficult
to comprehend. He spoke, for the faithful, of a complete union with
Christ, even with his flesh and his blood, and nevertheless of a
union which is effected only by the Spirit. Calvin’s speech was of
so much importance that we cannot think of suppressing it. Vulgar
minds insist on comprehending everything as they do the working of a
steam-engine; but the greatest minds have acknowledged the reality
of the incomprehensible. Descartes said that ‘in order to attain a
true idea of the infinite, it is not in any sense to be comprehended,
inasmuch as incomprehensibility itself is contained in the formal
definition of the infinite.’ ‘Infinity is everywhere, and consequently
incomprehensibility likewise,’ said Nicole.[533] The Christian
however comprehends to a certain extent the mystery which we are now
considering, and above all he experiences its reality. ‘If, as the
Scriptures clearly testify,’ said Calvin at the synod of Berne (1537),
‘the flesh of Christ is meat indeed, and his blood is drink indeed, it
follows that if we seek life in Christ, we must be thereby veritably
fed. The spiritual life which Christ gives us consists not only in his
making us alive by his Spirit, but in his rendering us, by the power of
his Spirit, partakers of his life-giving flesh, and by means of this
participation, nourishing us for eternal life.[534] Therefore, when we
speak of the communion which the faithful have with Christ, we teach
that they receive the communication of his body and his blood, no less
than that of his Spirit, so that they possess Christ wholly.

‘It is true that our Lord has gone up on high, and that his local
presence has thus been withdrawn from us. But this fact does not
invalidate our assertion, and that local presence is by no means
necessary here. So long as we are pilgrims on the earth, we are not
contained in the same place with him. But there is no obstacle to the
efficacy of the Spirit; he can collect and unite elements existing
in far separated places. The Spirit is the means by which we are
partakers of Christ. That Spirit nourishes us with the flesh and the
blood of the Lord, and thus quickens us for immortality. Christ offers
this communion under the symbols of bread and wine to all those who
celebrate the supper aright and in accordance with his institution.’

Such was Calvin’s speech. ‘I embrace as orthodox,’ said Bucer, ‘this
view of our excellent brothers Calvin, Farel, and Viret. I never held
that Christ was locally present in the holy supper.[535] He has a real
finite body, and that body remains in the celestial glory. But in
raising us by faith to heaven, the bread which we eat and the cup which
we drink are for us the communication of his body and his blood.’

Calvin wrote down his view. Bucer appended to it the words last
reported. Capito signed them. Bucer even succeeded, by dint of
moderation and kindliness, in _taming_ Kunz; and the latter showed
in this instance some goodwill. ‘But,’ said Calvin at a later time,
‘that single moment was soon past, and he became worse than himself.’
The synod acknowledged the Strasburgers as justified, as faithful,
as Christians, and their confession of faith as not in any respect
contrary to the Helvetic confessions. Megander was invited to modify
his catechism to a small extent so far as it treated of the doctrine
of the supper, and this he agreed to do. The deputies of the pastors
of the canton went to the hostelry where Bucer and Capito lodged, and
requested their co-operation in putting an end to the difficulties
which existed between the ministers of the city. The council itself
exhorted these pastors to concord and peace. Such was the force of
the speech of a single man, that at the moment when the waves were in
stormiest agitation, there was suddenly a great calm.

God was in the midst of us, said one of the attendants. The divine
power had employed the speech of the reformer to appease the tumult and
establish agreement and unity.[536]




                             CHAPTER VII.

        GENEVA.--THE CONFESSION OF FAITH SWORN AT ST. PETER’S.

                            (END OF 1537.)


[Sidenote: GENEVA.]

It was not only in his relations with those Christian men, Megander and
Bucer, or with the wretched Caroli, that Calvin’s efforts were crowned
with success. Happy presages seemed to announce to him a blessed and
powerful ministry at Geneva. His reformation, as we have seen, was
not only doctrinal but moral, a fact of the highest importance for
the Church and for the people. But, as happens in all human affairs,
a few spots sullied this beautiful aspect of his work. Rules were
introduced which were too circumstantial, and a mode of repression
which was too legal. Calvin found at the time a sympathy on the part of
the magistrates which was pleasant to him, but which at the same time
intruded the civil power into matters for which the moral influence of
the Church ought to have sufficed. All his requests were complied with.
He asked, together with Farel, for four preachers and two deacons, and
they were granted. He represented that there was a preacher, a good
man from Provence, who would fain retire to Geneva; and they gave him
a place.[537] One of the most violent politicians, Janin, surnamed
Colony, a great lover of novelties, after ardently embracing the
Reformation, had thrown himself with his natural impetuosity into the
notions of the _Spirituals_ or Anabaptists, and was uttering everywhere
audacious speeches on matters of faith. The council requested him
‘not to grieve the preachers,’ and added grave menaces in case he
should refuse to be corrected.[538] Another citizen, a hosier, who
was suspected of holding the same views, having been exhorted by the
pastors and the magistrates, declared that his doubts about baptism had
vanished, and took an oath, says the Register, ‘to live as we do.’[539]
On October 5, Farel and Calvin announced that they would administer the
supper, but ‘that there were some who kept aloof, holding the opinions
of Benoît and Herman; and others who still kept their beads, which are
implements of idolatry.’ Thereupon the council determined ‘to take away
all the beads.’ That was far easier than to take away the faith of
which the beads were a sign.

[Sidenote: PARTIES AT GENEVA.]

Nothing could check the zeal of Calvin. On October 30 he presented
himself to the council, and set forth various grievances. ‘The
hospital,’ he said, ‘is very poorly furnished, and the sick are
suffering in consequence. Geneva has a Christian school, and
nevertheless some children go to the school of the papacy. Lastly it
is to be feared that dissensions will arise between the citizens, for
while some have taken the oath as to the manner of living, others have
not done so.’ The sick, the young, and peace among the citizens, these
were the matters which occupied the mind of the reformer, subjects well
worthy of his attention. The council decreed--‘The hospital shall be
supplied; all children shall be bound to go to the Christian school,
and not to the papistical; and the confession shall be required of all
who have not yet made it.’ This last point must inevitably be the most
difficult. A conflict was about to begin, and what would be its result?
We have just seen that there were in Geneva two parties, more or less
considerable, who set themselves in opposition to the evangelical
Reformation--the Roman Catholics and the Spirituals or Anabaptists.
But there was yet a third party, more respectable and therefore more
formidable. The Genevese people were naturally restless, and delighted
in freedom and in pleasure. At first they had warmly embraced the
Reformation, merely thinking that they should thereby be delivered from
their bishop and from the practices which they disliked. But as soon as
the Reformation demanded a Christian faith and life, the ardor of the
Genevese rapidly diminished. The severity of Calvin and his colleagues
chilled the violent ebullition of their zeal. They felt the ordinances
imposed on them to be troublesome and exorbitant. Moreover, it was not
only the jolly fellows, the lovers of pleasure and the libertines as
they are called, who were refractory. It would be a great mistake not
to acknowledge that in the ranks of the opposition there were other
motives and other men.

We have already related the heroic struggles which had restored to
Geneva her freedom and her independence.[540] We did so, less on
account of their intrinsic interest than because they exercised a
powerful influence, whether for good or for evil, on the Reformation.
We have seen how political emancipation permitted and was favorable to
religious emancipation. We have now to observe the obstacles raised
up by those who, while they rejected popery, did not embrace the
Gospel. The Huguenots (that is, as our readers will recollect, the
name which was given to the partisans of the alliance with the Swiss
Confederation) were divided after Calvin’s arrival. Some of them were
friendly to and supported the Reformation; others pronounced themselves
against him, and opposed his work. The opposition did not consist
merely of men of the lowest rank, vulgar and dissolute. There were on
both sides, in the great national party, some generous characters,
some honorable citizens. Unfortunately, as the State and the Church
were at that time not only united but blended with each other, these
two parties were at the same time both right and wrong. The political
Huguenots were right with respect to the State, and in error respecting
the Church; and the evangelical Christians were right with respect
to the Church, and in error with respect to the State. To make the
confusion greater still, the true principles of Church and State were
at that period very little understood. Many of the eminent citizens
who had exposed themselves to famine, pillage, and death for the sake
of being free, who had resolved not to have for their master either
their bishop, or the Duke of Savoy, or the King of France, or even
Berne; who had marched in the van for the political emancipation of
Geneva; now asserted their right to enjoy in peace the liberty for
which they had so long fought. We have admired them in their heroical
struggles. We will not brand them in this new opposition. Politically
they were right. In a certain sense they were also right religiously.
The religion of Jesus Christ will not be imposed by force, and it
rejects all compulsion. In the attempt to establish itself in any town,
it refuses alike the intervention of the martyr-fires of the Holy
Office and the decrees of a council of state. Jesus Christ said, _Wilt
thou be made whole?_ This is not the place for an inquiry into the
aids which this will of man receives from on high: we hold simply to
the declarations of the Saviour, and we say that man ought to feel the
want of the Gospel, and if he does not want it, no one has any right
to impose it on him. To act as the syndics then did was to ignore the
divine spirituality of the kingdom of God, and to make of it a human
institution. Another motive may possibly have contributed to arouse
opposition. Farel, Calvin, Courault, Saunier, Froment, and Mathurin
Cordier were foreigners, Frenchmen. They had drawn around them their
brothers, their cousins, and some of their friends. These foreigners
appeared to be taking the upper hand in Geneva, and this hurt the
feelings of the old citizens. They wished that Geneva should belong to
the Genevese, as France did to the French and Germany to the Germans.

[Sidenote: FAITH BY COMPULSION.]

Calvin having pointed out to the council, October 30, the danger to
which the republic was exposed by the existence within it of two
opposing parties, it was decreed that those citizens who had abstained,
on July 29, from swearing to the evangelical confession, should be
called upon to do so without delay; and November 12 was appointed for
that purpose. Calvin, Farel, and their friends, who assuredly knew the
worth of a voluntary adhesion, did what they could to induce opponents
to receive the Gospel with all their heart, and not to separate
themselves from their fellow-citizens in a matter of such moment. They
urged them with kindness to listen to the good tidings of salvation,
and affectionately exhorted them to peace and union.[541] There were
indeed some vexatious proceedings. A tithing man (_dizenier_) having
in his district two young lads who refused obstinately to answer to
the summons, gave them legal notice of the order of the council, and
cited them to obey it. Thereupon these two opponents flew into a rage
and assaulted him, and for this they were imprisoned. But this was the
only case of the kind. Kindliness, however, had little more effect than
violence. In vain mild persuasion flowed from the lips of the ministers
and their friends; it repelled instead of attracting.

At length November 12 arrived. Each tithing man having called together
those of his quarter who had not yet taken the oath, they were
conducted to St. Peter’s in groups, tithing by tithing. The looks of
the people were fixed on these late comers. They were counted, but the
whole number was not large. Many did not come at all; ‘and likewise,
of those who lived in the Rue des Allemands, not one came.’[542] This
was a blow for the friends of the Reformation. The Rue des Allemands
(of the German Swiss) was chiefly inhabited by those who had early
declared themselves for liberty, and afterwards for the Reformation,
and who had adhered to the Helvetic confessions. When the Genevese
Catholics, March 28, 1533, had attacked this party by force of arms, it
was in the Rue des Allemands that the reformed were drawn up in order
of battle, five in a row. It was there that the most pious had said,
‘There is not one single drop of comfort assured to us except in God
alone.’ It was there that all had exclaimed, ‘Rather die than give way
a single step.’[543] And now, of all those who inhabited that street,
not a single man came! Doubtless some of them had already sworn to
the confession. But there were probably some also who objected to the
doctrine, and others who, like Desclefs, felt the divine commandments
too hard for them to pledge themselves to keep them. But what chiefly
repelled these Huguenots was the fact that an act was commanded which
they knew they were free to do or not to do. They were determined not
to bend under that yoke. After having dared all kinds of hardship for
the sake of winning their freedom, they did not intend that, when they
had gained it in the state, it should be snatched away from them in the
Church. They were more in the right perhaps than they imagined; for it
is hardly likely that they fully understood this great principle, ‘The
power of the magistrate ends at the point at which that of conscience
begins.’ The difficulty was still more increased by the circumstance
that ‘those who had refused to swear to the confession, whether
Catholics or Huguenots, were among the most influential persons in the
city.’ Such is the testimony of Rozet, the secretary of state, who is
assuredly a witness above suspicion. But the syndics and their council
were no more disposed to give way than their adversaries. They thought
that they had as much right to impose that act as to order a military
review. On the same day the council decreed ‘that those who will not
take the oath to the Reformation must go and dwell in some other place,
where they may live according to their fancy.’ Two days later the Two
Hundred confirmed the decree, expressing themselves somewhat bluntly,
‘that they must quit the city, since they will not obey.’[544] The
bow was tightly bent, and no one was willing to unbend it. The crisis
became more violent; a shock and a catastrophe were inevitable. The
only question was, who would be the victims.

[Sidenote: OPPONENTS OF COMPULSION.]

The citizens thus lightly banished from their native land by the
council could hardly believe their own ears. What! they had delivered
Geneva, ‘and will Geneva drive them away?’ Is it resolved that they
must forsake their homes, their families, their friends, to go and
eat the bread of the stranger? They murmured aloud and stoutly stood
out against this strange edict, confident in their strength and their
number. ‘There was no obedience at all;’ no one thought of packing
up. ‘The hostile band was of such a character that the lords dared
not execute their own decree.’ Complaints and threats grew louder
from day to day. The most influential men exclaimed--‘The present
syndics were elected by means of underhand dealings and intrigues.
They have violated our franchises and made an attack on our liberties.
There are three or four among them who do just as they will with the
ordinary council, and even with the great council. We must take the
government of the republic out of the hands of these two councils, and
henceforth everything must be managed by a general council. These
gentlemen want to reign over us as princes; but it is the people, it
is we ourselves, who are princes.’ These powerful malcontents, among
whom De Chapeaurouge distinguished himself, sought even to gain over
those of their friends who had already taken the oath, and addressed to
them the most vehement reproaches. Many of the latter were shaken, and
sought to excuse themselves. They laid the blame on the secretary of
the town. They reprimanded him (_l’impropéraient_) and blamed him for
getting them to swear without knowing what they were doing. Some even
of those who had sworn ‘adhered to the rebels.’ All these malcontents
excited one another more and more, and they thought of nothing but of
securing for themselves at the next election the place of the syndics.
The authoritative act of the council was to bring about the revolution.

Ambassadors of Berne were at Geneva at the time on some question of
jurisdiction, and the opposition party endeavored to gain them over
to their cause. This was not difficult. Calvin and Farel had adhered
to the confession of Basel, which was likewise received at Berne. Now
adherence to another confession was in their eyes a violation of the
first oath. One day, at an entertainment at which the Bernese deputies
were present with the magistrates and the notabilities of Geneva, one
of the ambassadors said with a loud voice that all those who had taken
the oath to the confession of Calvin and Farel were perjured persons.
One of the leaders of the opposition, Jean Lullin, who was there, was
delighted to hear it and did not fail to publish the rash remark. It
seemed to be a giving up of the cause to the opposition, which, proud
of finding the Bernese on its side, believed its victory secured. The
people began to be restless; and many, whom the council registers
call _the mutineers_ cried out in the streets that ‘everything was to
be settled in a general council.’ These signs of resistance greatly
afflicted the reformers and, says a chronicler, ‘put Calvin about
(_pourmenait_) in a strange way.’ Within the walls of Geneva the
agitation increased. The day grew dark, and a storm appeared ready to
burst forth.[545]

[Sidenote: THE GENERAL COUNCIL.]

The council was deeply moved. Its members were accused of having
obtained their seats by illegal practices, and appeal was made to the
people. It seemed indeed as if it would be needful for the general
council to decide between them and their adversaries. The syndics
therefore, on November 23, convoked the Two Hundred to deliberate on
the matter. The latter showed themselves determined to support the
government. The magistrates in office must not think of resigning,
they said, nor attach so much importance to these clamors. ‘All this
noise is made by certain people who have no mind to amend their
ways and who want to take the place of the syndics.’ Nevertheless,
everyone perceived that it was impossible to refuse the convocation
of a general council. It was necessary, besides, to name a deputation
to Berne to treat of important business. The day fixed was Sunday,
November 25. It was agreed to prepare some fair ordinances to be read
to the assembled people. The opposition were aiming at getting rid not
only of the magistrates but of the reformers. What took place in the
council is therefore of great importance. It was the beginning of the
counter-reformation.

On the day appointed, the Two Hundred, in order to impart more
solemnity to their proceedings, assembled at the Town Hall and thence
accompanied the syndics and the council to St. Peter’s church. These
magistrates felt keenly the accusations which were spread abroad
against them by the opposition; and having a good conscience they
wished the people to decide between them and their calumniators.
Consequently, when the assembly had been formed, the following
_remonstrance_ was addressed to the people in the name of the syndics
and the councils.

‘Magnificent, discreet, most dear and honored lords,--

‘The lords syndics whom you have elected according to your custom, as
likewise their ordinary council, that of the Sixty and that of the Two
Hundred, feel hurt by the talk of some private persons, who speak as if
they had charge of the general council, alleging that the said councils
were elected by intrigues and have violated the franchises; that it
is they (the opponents) who are princes, and that they wish that for
the future everything should be transacted in a general council. The
syndics and councils desire to learn from you, gentlemen, before they
proceed further in the investigation of the matter, whether you allow
that. You know whether or not your magistrates were elected by the
intrigues of three or four citizens, as they are alleged to have been.
You know that the four syndics were chosen by you in general council;
and while in time past the ordinary council was chosen by the four
syndics, this election, since 1530, has been made by the Council of the
Two Hundred.

[Sidenote: PROCEEDINGS AT THE COUNCIL.]

‘Elected thus, the councils ask you whether you will not acknowledge
them as your magistrates, that they may continue to exercise the power
which God has given them by your general election. They are prepared
to submit to punishment with all legal rigor, if it be found that they
are in fault; but if it be otherwise, they demand that those who defame
them should suffer chastisement, so that God may not be angry with us,
nor take away the spiritual lordship and liberty which he has given us
by his Son Jesus Christ. Assuredly he has shown us more favor than he
ever did to the children of Israel. But it might happen to us as it did
to the Romans, who by civil discords of this sort lost little by little
the empire which they had acquired over the world, and fell into the
bondage in which they still remain.

‘We ought to pray God to send us well-instructed and Godfearing men to
administer justice. But if we will treat them with contempt, we shall
by-and-by find no one to serve us. Well may the heart of a citizen ache
when, after laying aside his private affairs to serve the community, he
gets for his reward the censure of those who dread correction and will
not obey the lawful authorities.

‘Come then, gentlemen, one after the other, peaceably to give your
opinion, _yes_ or _no_, in order that all things may be done well and
orderly, to the glory of God and our own great benefit.’[546]

One might have expected that, after this declaration, the leaders of
the opposition, De Chapeaurouge and his adherents, would state in
due form their alleged grievances. They remained silent. This was an
acknowledgment that their accusation was unfounded. They would have
found it difficult to assert that the election of the magistrates had
been due to the intrigues of a few individuals, in the presence of the
people who had themselves made that election freely and honorably.
Moreover, ten weeks only had to elapse before the regular renewal of
the council; and the opposition did not think that they ought to unmask
their batteries so long beforehand. It would be better to employ the
time in preparing the change which they wished to bring about. Thus,
therefore, after the address of the syndics there was a long silence.
After some time De Chapeaurouge rose; but instead of speaking as a
tribune who seeks to draw the people after him, he made a remark on
acoustics; ‘We cannot hear well,’ said he, ‘the place gives a dull
sound.’ There are none so deaf as those who will not hear. In fact, the
chief of the opposition pretended that the challenge and invitation
of the council had not reached his ears, and that this excused his
making a reply. ‘Is a second reading desired?’ said the first syndic;
no one demanded it. As the leaders were silent, the youngest and most
blustering of their followers began to speak. The opportunity was too
tempting not to cry out, and instead of the great piece which was
looked for, a little one was produced. Men destitute of culture and
acquirements attacked the chief magistrates. One man, who had just
come out of prison, flung in the face of the reformers the most absurd
accusations. There was an ebullition in the assembly; a tempest in a
teacup. The young people caused this first outbreak of excitement,
which they show in their pursuit of pleasure and which they easily
transfer to public affairs. Claude Sérais, a tailor, one of those
who in February had played at _Picca-Porral_, came forward and laid
a complaint against Ami Perrin, who enjoyed great respect. It was he
who had accompanied Farel the first time that he preached (in 1534)
in the convent of Rive. He had not heartily embraced the Reformation,
but he was still associated with the reformers. ‘Perrin,’ said Sérais,
‘said that there are traitors at Geneva, people who speak ill of the
preachers. He said that Porral was a good man.’ As Porral was a great
friend of the Reformation, he was at least as hateful to these people
as Farel and Calvin. ‘I replied to him,’ said Sérais, ‘that if he were
so, he had no occasion to bring Farel to the prison, to preach to
us as if we were thieves who were to be prepared for death.’ ‘Yes,’
cried one of those who had been in prison with Sérais, Jacques Pattu,
‘yes, they brought Farel to prison and he told us that he would sooner
drink a glass of blood than drink with us.’ Scarcely had he let fall
these strange words, when Pierre Butini mounted on a bench and cried
out, ‘The franchise has been taken from us by the Porrets (Porral’s
friends), for we were seized, many good men, without informations and
without plaintiffs.’--‘I complain,’ resumed Pattu, ‘that they gave me
the halter without cause,’--‘I complain,’ said Sérais, further, ‘that
Claude Bernard told me that I would not go to hear Farel preach.’--‘Let
the others speak now!’ cried Baudichon de la Maisonneuve, annoyed at
Sérais beginning over again. But the friends of Sérais cried, ‘And we,
we will have Baudichon hold his tongue.’ Then Etienne Dadaz, resuming
the series of grievances, said, ‘I complain that I have been sent to
prison and accused of meaning to sell the town.’--‘Thou oughtest to be
silent,’ said the syndic Goutaz, ‘for thou hast brought from France
articles designed to make us subjects of the king.’ On which Dadaz
replied, ‘It is not I who made them, it is M. de Langey who gave them
me.’ This was certainly not justifying himself, for Langey was a
minister to the king.[547]

[Sidenote: CONFUSED COMPLAINTS.]

The most reasonable of the leaders saw that they must put a stop to
these turbulent complainings, which were ruining their interests. The
former syndic, Jean Philippe, a friend of freedom and courageous, but
also rash and leading a loose life, began to speak, and, addressing
the secretary of the council, Rozet, accused him of having caused the
confession to be sworn which he declared he had not sworn. This was not
escaping from the question, but plunging into it. This was the master
grievance of the opposition, and the matter to be investigated. ‘We
did ill to swear it,’ said Jean Lullin. ‘The ambassadors of Berne have
told us that we were perjured.’ De Chapeaurouge himself, who at first
had kept silence, getting enraged with the secretary of the council,
Rozet, who had caused the confession to be sworn, accused him of being
‘a witness of Susanna’ (that is to say, a false witness). ‘Gentlemen,’
said the respectable Rozet, with much feeling, ‘I have served you
long, and I have neither done wickedly nor borne false witness; and
here is De Chapeaurouge making me out to be a _witness of Susanna_!’
Chapeaurouge replied, ‘You told me, before the syndic Curtet, that
you had no conscience at all.’ Curtet answered, ‘I never heard that;’
and everyone began to laugh. Jean Philippe, a clever man, then made a
proposition which he thought likely to satisfy the opponents. He wished
to place the syndics under guardianship. ‘Gentlemen,’ he said, ‘it
would be a long task to listen in this place to all these plaintiffs
and to provide for them. It seems to me better that we should
choose, in general council, twenty-five men.’ These were twenty-five
superintendents whom he wished to set over the syndics and the council,
as representatives of the people. ‘That done,’ continued Philippe,
‘these gentlemen will hold their Little and Great Councils, and the
plaintiffs shall be heard before all.’ Naturally, Philippe wished
these twenty-five to be of his party. The syndics understood and were
indignant. ‘Do you mean, then,’ said they, ‘to have men set over us?’
The crafty Philippe did not lose the thread. ‘Not _men_ over you,’ he
said, ‘but the general council is over all.’ Then, like a very tribune,
he turned boldly to the people. ‘Gentlemen,’ said he, ‘do you not
intend that the general council should be supreme over all?’ Instantly
the cry was heard from all sides, ‘Yes, yes!’ The opposition succeeding
thus in getting the people on their side, the days of the party in
power were numbered. The syndics hastened to cut short. ‘Now then,’
said the syndic Curtet, let us talk of business.’[548]

It then occurred to them that the general council had to appoint
deputies to go to Berne. The three leaders of the opposition, Jean
Philippe, Ami de Chapeaurouge and Jean Lullin, were proposed by the
council itself, which would much rather see them at Berne, where
they might support the cause of the republic, than at Geneva, where
they were making war on the government. But the three opponents saw
through the trick. ‘For my part,’ said Lullin, ‘I have an excuse
which prevents my going.’ ‘I hold to what was decreed,’ said Philippe,
‘that those who have begun the business should go thither to complete
it.’--‘I say the same,’ added De Chapeaurouge. The three conspirators
(if we may give them such a name) will therefore spend the winter at
Geneva, and they will not be idle there.

[Sidenote: VINDICATION OF THE REFORMERS.]

The angry recriminations, the rash charges, and the turbulent movements
of this council came to the ears of the reformers, and the report
gave them much pain. The next day therefore, November 26, when the
Council of the Two Hundred assembled, Farel and Calvin appeared before
them. The former said, ‘Sérais accuses me of having said that rather
than drink with him, I would drink a glass of _his_ blood. Now what
really passed was this. One of them having said to me, You wish us
no good, I answered, I wish you so much harm that I would willingly
_shed my blood for you_.’ Then coming to the essential point; ‘I have
heard,’ continued Farel, ‘that they call those _perjurers_ who have
sworn the confession. If you examine carefully its contents, you will
find that it is made in conformity with God’s Word, and is adapted to
unite the people. You have not sworn to anything else than to hold
fast faith in God, and to believe in his commandments.’ One of the
members said, ‘It is not we, it is the deputies from Berne who spoke
of perjury.’--‘We should very much like to know when they did so,’
replied Farel, astonished. ‘They spoke of it at table, in the presence
of people,’ said the syndics Curtet and Lullin. ‘We offer to maintain
this confession at the cost of our lives,’ replied the reformers. The
syndics, beginning to fear lest the murmurs of the people should be
excited, entreated the preachers to be careful that this business might
end well.

The discovery that the lords of Berne blamed them in the affair of the
confession was a very heavy blow to the reformers. If that powerful
city should unite with the party of the opposition, the Reformation
would be in great danger. They were not long in finding that their
fears were not unfounded. The Bernese, who intended to act as if they
had the superintendence of the Church of Geneva, wrote to Farel and
Calvin--‘It has come to our knowledge that you, Calvin, have written to
certain Frenchmen at Basel that your confession has been approved by
our congregation, and that our preachers have ratified it, which will
not be proven (_ne constera pas_). On the contrary, it is you and Farel
who have been consenting parties to sign our confession made at Basel,
and to hold to it. We are amazed that you should attempt to contravene
it. We pray you to desist from the attempt, otherwise we shall be
compelled to have resource to other remedies.’[549]

It was supposed at Berne that the two confessions differed, while in
fact they were fundamentally the same; and the lords of that city
believed that if Geneva had a confession of her own, their ascendancy
would be risked. That young Frenchman, who had arrived only the year
before, had a soul, as they thought, too independent. He was ready to
break the ties which bound Geneva to the Swiss Churches. Calvin saw how
matters stood. He felt that it was necessary to enlighten the Bernese
about the confession of Geneva, and therefore set out immediately with
Farel for Berne. The two reformers represented to the council that the
confession which they had prepared, so far from making them perjurers,
confirmed the confession of Basel. At the same time they presented it
to the Bernese senate. That body had it examined, and it was pronounced
to be very good. ‘We are going to send ambassadors,’ said the Bernese
lords, ‘and they will declare to your general council that the words
spoken by our deputies were not uttered in our name.’ The satisfaction
made was brilliant. The reformers had gained their cause.[550] They
returned to Geneva without delay; and having been received, December
10, in the ordinary council, they communicated to it the happy issue of
their journey.[551] But there were at Berne certain persons who desired
to see the Church of Geneva placed in subordination to that of Berne.
The projected embassy might baffle their schemes, and they resolved to
prevent it. For that purpose they did not shrink even from blackening
the reformers. They asserted that the Genevese preachers had said in
their sermons that _all the mischief_ came from Germany! (that is to
say, from German Switzerland, from Berne). The Bernese changed their
mind, and wrote to Geneva, ‘that they would not send ambassadors.’[552]

[Sidenote: THEIR VINDICATION AT BERNE.]

Calvin and Farel were struck with astonishment. The letter from Berne
had arrived on December 13. On the morning of the 14th they went to
the council and asked that the Two Hundred might be convoked for
the afternoon. Before that assembly they repeated that after having
heard them, the Bernese magistrates had declared that ‘the thing (the
confession) had been well done.’ As to the charge of having said
that _all the mischief came from Germany_, they pointed out, that as
ambassadors were about to be sent to Berne, they ought to be instructed
to ascertain who it was that had reported such things. The council
determined that Farel himself should go to Berne with the ambassadors,
and should make inquiry.[553]

The deputies of Geneva, charged with the defence before the Bernese
government, of certain interests of state, were Claude Savoye,
Michel Sept, Claude Rozet, secretary of the council and father of
the chronicler; all of them true friends of the reformers and the
magistrates; and Jean Lullin, who had at last consented to form part
of the embassy, and who was the only member of the opposition.[554]
They went to Berne with Farel; and the latter having given satisfactory
explanations, the Bernese magistrates wrote, December 22, to Geneva,
‘that they and their preachers had found the Genevese confession to
be according to God’s will and the Holy Scriptures, and thereby in
conformity with their own religion.’ They added, ‘Set then these
matters in good order. May dissensions cease, and may the sinister
intrigues of the wicked be confounded.’[555]

Would the passions which actuated one part of the Genevese people allow
them to follow such good counsel? They were not to wait long for an
answer to this question.




                             CHAPTER VIII.

                          TROUBLES IN GENEVA.

                         (JAN. AND FEB. 1538.)


[Sidenote: AGITATION IN GENEVA.]

Six days later, December 28, Farel and Calvin appeared before the
council, and stated that they were about soon to celebrate the Lord’s
supper, and requested to be sustained in their _admonition to those
who were leading evil lives_.[556] An exhortation to live well had
nothing revolting about it. If a man is living ill, it becomes a duty
to entreat him to live well. That is most of all the duty of faithful
pastors, especially on the approach of the supper. But what need had
the ministers of being _sustained_ by the magistrate? This request
transformed a religious act into a matter of civil business, and thus
totally altered its nature. The answer to be made to the reformers
was put off until the return of the delegates sent to Berne. This
step of the reformers was irritating to those who supposed they would
be among the subjects of the admonition. Claude Sérais, who had a
free tongue, that source of all debate, said daringly in the presence
of a numerous company, ‘Farel is a bad man.’[557] Others took part
with him in censuring the ministers. They indulged in detraction, in
aspersions, in cutting speeches; they cast about in all directions
for anything which might be taken amiss. It was but a small fire at
first, but little by little it spread far and wide. On January 1 and
2 (1538) the council was occupied with the affair, and resolved that
‘those who had circulated insults against the preachers about the
town should be taken before the lieutenant, at the instance of the
attorney-general.’ ‘We shall see,’ they said, ‘who is bad, and the bad
shall be punished.’[558] The preachers made no complaint; but it was
their unfortunate application to the council which had given occasion
to these insults. This agitation would certainly not have arisen had
each pastor, in conformity with the precept of Jesus Christ--‘Go and
tell him his fault between thee and him alone’--addressed those who
were blameworthy kindly and privately. One fact, however, exonerates
the preachers: they were not at liberty to act otherwise than they
did. The state had resolutely placed itself above the Church, and was
intermeddling with matters which pertained only to the pastors. If the
latter had rebuked some citizens without the consent of the council,
they would certainly have been liable to rebuke themselves. The fault
was above all with the magistrate. Geneva sailed for some years on a
high tide of _Cesaropapia_ (government of the Church by the state).[559]

On January 3 the reformers presented themselves again before the
council. They did not come to complain of the insults to which they had
been subjected. They proposed a nobler object, the union of all the
members of the Church in the same faith and the same charity. They drew
a vivid picture of the discord which was increasing day after day, and
of the divisions which were fomented in the republic by restless and
factious spirits; and they represented that one of the best methods of
applying a remedy would be to keep the disturbers away from the supper.
‘As it is determined to celebrate it on Sunday next,’ they said, ‘we
are of opinion that, those persons should not be admitted. On this
point we desire the opinion of the council.’[560]

[Sidenote: THE CHURCH AND THE STATE.]

This exclusion proposed to the senate is one of the gravest facts in
the reformation of Geneva, and it kept up excitement in the city for
nearly a whole generation. Wherein then were the reformers right, and
wherein were they wrong? A society is a collection of men who, while
differing on some matters, are in agreement on the subject which is the
very essence of their union. A society of financiers is not composed
of people who know nothing of money matters. It is not the unlearned
who are admitted to a learned faculty. A regiment is not recruited
with one-armed men. Men who know nothing of French are not elected
to form the Forty of the Academy. It is just the same with Christian
society. Its members may differ in many respects--political, literary,
social, etc.--but Christian faith must actuate them all. A Jew or a
Mohammedan does not belong to the Church of Jesus Christ; and a man who
rejects the facts, the doctrines, and the duties of Christianity is
not a Christian. ‘Birds of a feather flock together,’ says a common
proverb. Ought the reformers to ignore such an elementary truth? There
were still some Roman Catholics at Geneva; there were the so-called
_Spirituals_, many of whom did not believe even in the immateriality
of the soul; there were also a great number of citizens who did not
consent to the faith as set forth in the confession made at St.
Peter’s. Should such a confused mass, in which it would be impossible
to know where one was, form the Church of Geneva? Should that Church be

    ‘De tant d’objets divers le bizarre assemblage?’[561]

Would it not in such a case remind one of certain monsters, which are
spoken of by the ancients, possessing a conformation which was against
nature? The reformers were with the truth when they answered No. But
where they were wrong was in requiring all the citizens to take an oath
to their confession. Was it possible for them to fancy that the act by
which Geneva had broken with the pope had transformed, as by the stroke
of the enchanter’s wand, all the Genevese, so that from that moment
they all believed heartily, and ought all to make confession with their
lips? _Nascitur homo, fit Christianus_, said Tertullian in the second
century. One _is born_ a man, but one _becomes_ a Christian. To pretend
that all those who belonged to the state belonged at the same time to
the Church was irrational. To decree that those who would not take the
oath to the confession should depart from the city and go elsewhither
was iniquitous. What, drive from Geneva the men to whom Geneva owed
her independence! Such an enormity could not fail to lead to a
revolution. The fusion of the Church and the state in a single society
is the origin of those blemishes which in some instances disfigured
the otherwise glorious work of the Reformation. But how to settle the
dilemma? how admit two contradictory propositions? How to exclude and
to keep at the same time?

The early Church accomplished this. It had its ἀκροώμενοι, _audientes_,
hearers. Instead of excluding those whose faith was not yet formed,
it invited them lovingly to hear the preaching of the Word. They
attended the service and joined in the prayers, without taking part
in the mysteries of the Lord’s supper, which they shrank timidly from
approaching. And when in their experience that great process of the
Christian life was accomplished of which St. Paul speaks--_Faith cometh
by hearing_--they shared the communion at the sacred feast. Perhaps
Geneva was not yet ripe for this order of things.[562]

The council assembled the Two Hundred to consider what answer should
be made to the reformers. Since the scenes which had taken place in
the council of November 25, the syndics had become more timid. They
dreaded whatever might provoke the people and drive them on to any
rash proceeding, and they felt less inclined to support the reformers.
A letter was read from Berne which bore approving testimony to the
confession, and exhorted to concord. Three of the members who had not
sworn the confession--De Lesclefs, Manlich, and Ameaux--were urged to
do as others had done. The first two took the oath required; Ameaux
alone refused. The council then believing that they had gone far
enough, recoiled from a measure which might have grave consequences,
and determined ‘not to refuse the supper to any one.’[563]

Thus did the magistrates give a flat refusal to the ministers. It
was a lesson for Calvin and his friends. This decision was contrary
to their convictions; but as they knew that the council was at heart
friendly to the Reformation, they did not feel bound to oppose its
will. They gave proof of moderation, conciliation, and patience. Some
will perhaps say that they pushed these virtues too far. They yielded.
That is not the crime of which they are commonly accused. The supper
was celebrated, and there was no disturbance.

[Sidenote: DISORDERS.]

But although the communion passed off in an orderly manner, troubles
arose afterwards. The opposition party looked on this general admission
as a triumph for them; and as they saw that the representations of the
ministers were no longer listened to by the councils, their audacity
increased. Again were seen bands of men, consisting of the least
respectable classes of the people, parading the city with green flowers
in their hats. They indulged in acts of violence; they annoyed those
who had sworn to the Reformation; ‘they drew their swords and terrified
others into flight.’ The taverns were thronged with these people, who
ate and drank to excess. Puns and sarcasms were showered on all sides.
Even holy things were turned into ridicule. Just as St. Paul addressed
his Epistles to his _brethren in Christ_, so the evangelical Christians
of the Reformation gave each other that title. The wags had noticed
it, and did not fail to laugh at it. ‘A party of drunken men,’ say
the Registers of January 16, ‘went in the night through the town and
to the wine-shops, mocking the preachers and saying to each other,
‘_Thou art one of the brethren in Christ_,’ and other things of the like
kind. These mockers having come to the Lord’s supper, to which all
were admitted by order of the Council, gave themselves in jest the name
of _brethren_. Jean d’Orbe said to Claude Jaccard, ‘Art thou of the
_brethren in Christ_?’ and swearing a great oath, he added, ‘Thou wilt
repent of it.’ Many persons, alarmed at these disorderly proceedings,
trembled for the general council which was to be held fifteen days
later. ‘Many a sword-thrust will be given there,’ they said, ‘so
that we shall not wish to go.’ The discord which prevailed in Geneva
agitated also the neighboring country districts. The Council of the
Two Hundred was deeply affected by all these reports, and determined
to have inquiry made and to punish the guilty. The measure which the
council adopted in order to prevent disturbances was precisely that
which actually gave rise to them.[564]

All these things greatly afflicted Calvin, and he had at the same time
other sorrows to bear. A man of mild disposition, with a spirit given
to contemplation, on which the incessantly renewed struggles to which
the reformer was called made a most painful impression, was at that
time living in intimate friendship with him. Louis du Tillet, canon
and archdeacon of Angoulême, had been first won to the Gospel by the
lively piety of Calvin, whom he had followed to Switzerland, to Italy,
and to Geneva. But by slow degrees a perceptible difference grew up
between the master and the disciple. In Du Tillet’s view the doctrine
of the Church was the essential matter, and the re-establishment of
the apostolic Church ought to be the aim of the Reformation. ‘Let us
protest,’ said he, ‘against the abuses of the Roman Church, but let
us re-establish the Catholicism of the first centuries. It is there
that lies hidden the Christian germ; let us beware of arresting its
developments. The Reformation, unless it is to disappoint the fair
hopes which it has excited, must re-establish in the world the one
holy, universal Church. The only way open to us for accomplishing the
work which the state of Christendom claims at our hands, is to go
back to the beginning, and to re-establish the Church of the first
ages. Alas! fatal discords are already threatening to make division
in the new Church. May the hand of God recall her from this error,
and establish her on the foundation of the apostles and the fathers.
The Reformation must not, while highly exalting Jesus Christ, too much
abase the Church. Let us take care that the torrent which we turn
into the stables to cleanse them do not carry away the walls and the
foundation. The reform of the Church must not become its annihilation.
Assuredly the Catholic Church is the pillar of the truth, and the
consent of this Church is the infallible support and the full assurance
of the truth.’[565]

[Sidenote: LOUIS DE TILLET.]

Calvin was at no loss for an answer to his friend, the Old Catholic. He
pointed out to him that where falsehood reigns there can be no Church;
that the state of the papacy, although it might still hold some remains
of truth, was such that those who abandoned it did not create a schism.
He added, that we could not wait until the papacy reformed itself; that
the councils assembled in the fifteenth century, and even earlier, for
the purpose of working out that the reform, had all failed. He insisted
that it was not to Catholicism of the first five or six centuries
that we must return, but to the Gospel--to the sacred writings of
the apostles--in which the truth was taught in its purity. Calvin
maintained his thesis with energy, nay, as he said, with rudeness.[566]
Driven from point to point, hesitating between the doctrine of the Holy
Scriptures and that of the councils and the fathers, melancholy and
pining, Du Tillet secretly quitted Geneva, adopted the resolution of
re-entering the Catholic Church, and told Calvin so.

The reformer wrote to him, January 31, 1538, with moderation and
humility, but at the same time firmly. ‘What afflicts me most of all,’
he said to him, ‘is the fear of having hurt your mind by my imprudence,
for I confess that I have not exhibited in my intercourse with you
the modesty which I owed to you. I cannot, however, conceal from you
that I was greatly astonished on learning your intention and the reason
which you assign in your letters to me. This change, so suddenly made,
seemed very strange, considering the constancy and the decision which
you displayed. It is separation from the Church to join ourselves to
that which is contrary to it.’[567] This did not prevent Du Tillet from
again becoming and remaining a Roman Catholic.

[Sidenote: THE TWO PARTIES.]

However, Calvin’s attention was at this time attracted and absorbed by
other objects. The disturbances which were agitating Geneva did not
arise exclusively from religious doctrines. The opposition wanted to
get into power; and if it succeeded, the days of the Reformation were
apparently numbered. The leaders acted prudently, but they could not
restrain the restlessness of their adherents. There were two entirely
distinct parties in the republic. The one aimed at any cost to take the
government out of the hands of the syndics and councillors who favored
the reformers, and to occupy their place; the other wished to appoint
magistrates who would persevere in the course on which the council had
entered. The two parties were now face to face. The attacking party
marched to the assault with decision and much noise, determined to come
to blows if necessary. ‘Insults and outcries were multiplied throughout
the town, both by night and by day.’[568] Excitement was daily becoming
more intense. ‘Next Sunday syndics are to be appointed,’ it was said;
‘there will be strife; we must go to the election in arms.’ One of the
most furious of the opponents, who carried leeks in his hat, cried out,
‘To-day we are wearing _green_ gillyflowers, but the day will make
plenty of _red_ heads.’[569] These symptoms alarmed not only the aged
and the sick, but also moderate men, who are sometimes a little timid.
To make use of menaces in order to keep citizens of the opposite party
from voting, is commonly enough the practice of a blind demagogy. It
gained its end. These violent speeches greatly grieved the pastors.
Fearing that blood would be shed, they appeared, February 1, two days
before the election, before the Council of the Two Hundred, and made
a wise (_belle_) remonstrance. The lieutenant of police, Henriod
Dumolard, one of the champions of freedom, who enjoyed general respect,
confirmed these fears ‘from good information.’ The council determined
to imprison those who had threatened to shed blood, and to take other
measures for the purpose of preventing on the appointed day either
tumult or conflict.

But if the violent members of the opposition injured their influence,
the abler men dealt effective blows at the order of things established
by the reformers and the magistrates. They called to mind the ancient
franchises of Geneva and the battles fought in their defence. They
showed that the bishop himself had not required of them so positive an
adhesion to doctrine, nor imposed on them ordinances so harassing in
respect to morality. Under the pretext of aiming at the maintenance
of freedom, these men acquired high esteem among the people.[570]
They wished, nevertheless, so they said, for reform. Doubtless they
did. But if we may judge by their opposition to the confession and
to discipline, they wanted a reform without either faith or law.
Such was not that of Calvin; and this alone, in the grand crisis of
the sixteenth century, and in the midst of attacks so numerous and
so varied, could make Geneva a strong and invincible city. The vital
doctrines of Christianity, which are the salvation of the individual,
are likewise necessary to the prosperity of nations. This is proved
by great examples. Geneva without the Gospel, without Calvin, would
not have won the sympathy of the evangelical nations, nor would she
have possessed the moral force to surmount great perils. Weakened,
enervated, and corrupted, this city would soon have lost her
independence, as all those free cities of the Middle Ages in Italy
and elsewhere did. These were one after another compelled to stoop
under the sword of their neighbors and under the yoke of Rome. A free
people must have a religion of high quality (_de bon aloi_). To invite
the nations to cast Christianity out of their bosom, as some rash
or criminal voices did, is to invite them to put to death liberty,
morality, and prosperity. It is to preach suicide to them.

[Sidenote: ELECTION OF SYNDICS.]

Was Geneva, then, going to make trial of it? February 3, the day of
election, at length arrived. The opposition, which was at the outset a
minority, but a minority of the inflexible kind which generally wins,
had succeeded in persuading the people that if they wished to keep
their liberties they must change the government. The council general
assembled in the cloisters of St. Peter’s, and the first syndic said,
after the customary formalities--‘The election of syndics is a matter
of so great importance, that it will be enough to occupy us to-day
without any other business. Let everyone give his vote peaceably, and
let no one be so rash as to stir up disorders, either by word or by
sword. Any man who does so will be sent to prison, and will afterwards
be punished according to his desert.’ The Two Hundred, according to
custom, presented eight names, and the council general was to retain
four of them. Two secretaries were at hand to enter the votes; and
presently the citizens, coming forward group by group, gave their
votes. Of the eight candidates the people chose three who had put
themselves at the head of the opposition, and whom the impartiality of
the Two Hundred had led them to present with the others. These three
were Claude Richardet, who, with furious gesture, had declared that
they would not get him to go to prison; Jean Philippe, who had proposed
in the council general to name twenty-five citizens to watch the
syndics; and Jean Lullin, who had accused the council of violating the
franchises. These three enemies of the new order of things were named
syndics. But there must be four of them. The opposition intended that
the fourth should likewise be one of their party, but it did not find
another set down in the list of the council. Regardless of the rule on
that point, they chose a citizen who had not been proposed by the Two
Hundred--De Chapeaurouge--who had greatly compromised himself by the
vehemence of his speeches against the reformers. On February 4 and 5
the election of councillors as assistants to the syndics was conducted
in almost the same spirit.

The victory of the opposition was complete. A great revolution had
been wrought in this small city. The citizens had come to a decision
of such a character as must excite disturbances and prepare the way
to their ruin. This soon became apparent among the lower classes.
The election was followed, especially at night, by noisy promenades,
licentious songs in the taverns, insults and blasphemies. At Geneva,
as in France, the song was one form of opposition. The people feasted,
drank, and made songs on their enemies. Thus these lawless subjects
had their triumph after their own fashion. But Calvin and Farel did
not hesitate to present themselves before the council in which their
antagonists sat, and to demand the suppression of these disorders.
The new syndics were the most decided of the citizens in the sense
opposed to the reformers; but they were intelligent men, and they
had no wish that the mischief should run to an extreme. History,
moreover, gives us many examples of a change effected in individuals
by accession to power. Sometimes an ecclesiastic vehemently opposed
to the encroachments of the Roman see has been made pope, and he has
thereupon become the most thoroughgoing papist. The magistrates had
no wish to compromise themselves at the outset by making common cause
with the libertines; they therefore ordered that justice should be
done at the demand of the pastors. The sound of the trumpet was heard
in the streets, and the officer of the council cried, ‘No one shall
sing indecent songs containing the names of the inhabitants of Geneva;
no one shall go into the city without a candle after nine o’clock at
night; no one shall create excitement or strife, under pain of being
imprisoned on bread and water, for three days for the first offence,
six days for the second, and nine for the third.’[571] Immediately
after its election the new council had given a proof of moderation and
impartiality. Jean Jacques Farel, a brother of the reformer, having
replied to the threats of the opposition that he would go armed to the
council general, had been sent to prison by the council formed of his
own party. After the new election Farel interceded for his brother, and
the new council, in its session of February 5, released him, because he
had, according to the Registers, already remained three or four days
in prison. The blustering fellows thought it very strange that the
magistrates, who set Farel’s brother at liberty, should reward them,
the men who had placed them in office, by prohibiting songs at their
tables, in the midst of their cups, which were so delightful to them.
But notwithstanding these appearances, the revolution was none the
less profound and decisive; and it is doubtful whether, even after the
trumpet-blast, the disorders ceased.

[Sidenote: MONTCHENU AT GENEVA.]

The conduct of the syndics with regard to those who had preceded them
showed immediately that they did not lose sight of one of the chief
objects of their election. A Frenchman, the Seigneur de Montchenu,
being at Geneva, caused letters to be sent to three Genevese
councillors, Claude Richardet, Claude Savoye, and Michel Sept, in which
it was stated that if the Genevese would become subjects of the King
of France, he would leave to them their usages and liberties, would
fortify their city, and answer for them when attacked. Berne took alarm
on hearing this, and cautioned the Genevese to be on their guard. When
the councils met they ordered answer to be made to the French agent
that Geneva would no more entertain such projects, and decreed that
every Frenchman found wandering on the territory of the republic should
be expelled. It was not easy to treat the letter which had been written
to them as a crime on the part of the three Genevese, especially as the
first to whom it was addressed was Claude Richardet, then syndic, the
fierce enemy of the ministers and the priests. Nevertheless they found
means of employing these letters without taking Richardet into account.
He, however, was not only compromised, like the other two, in having
received a letter, but there was one grave fact against him. Montchenu
having presented himself by night, with some horsemen, at the gates of
Geneva, Richardet, syndic at the time, went to them at their request,
ordered the great gate to be opened, and introduced the Frenchmen into
the city. Montchenu having proposed to Richardet to go to supper with
him at the Tête-Noire, he declined. When he was subsequently called
upon by Claude Savoye to explain this circumstance in the council,
Richardet stated that he had thought that Montchenu was going on an
embassy into Germany to bring soldiers for the king. If this adventure
had happened to either of the other Genevese who had received the
letter, Claude Savoye, for instance, what would not have been said?
But Richardet was as innocent as his compatriots. A Genevese does not
betray his country. For the rest, he assured the council that he had
had no intention but to please it.

Whatever the fact may have been, on the proposition of Monathier, one
of the most violent members of the party then in power, the council
suspended Claude Savoye and Michel Sept from their functions until
this business should be cleared up. It has been remarked that, to take
advantage of their ascendency in order to get up any bad case against
their antagonists, was a traditional propensity which Genevese parties
had too long indulged.[572] Similarly, three of the former syndics and
a councillor were suspended on account of charges brought by people
of doubtful respectability. In this way the new government secured a
majority in the Council of the Two Hundred.[573] A pitiful victory of
party spirit! Everyone was eagerly hunting up grievances against the
fallen magistrates.

[Sidenote: CONFUSION OF CHURCH AND STATE.]

It appears that Calvin blamed this proceeding, and, holding it to be
contrary to justice and to truth, called it the work of him whom the
Scriptures name _the father of lies_. Hereupon it was determined to
warn the preachers that they must not intermeddle with the business of
the magistrate, but preach the Gospel.[574] Calvin felt this deeply.
Is not justice also in the Gospel? Ought not a minister to demand it?
So much hostility was at that time exhibited against the reformers by
the majority of the Genevese, that the Bernese themselves, when they
came to Geneva to oppose Montchenu, undertook their defence. Farel was
accused of having said at Berne, ‘There is strife at Geneva because one
party wants the mass and another the Gospel.’--‘Farel never said such a
thing,’ said the Bernese to the general council; ‘we beg you to treat
him with favor, for he has freely made known the Gospel.’ Certainly
Calvin, Farel, and all the pastors ought to set an example of respect
for the authorities. But the state and the Church were then so closely
united that they were almost confounded with one another; and as the
magistrates themselves dealt with religion in their councils, it is not
to be wondered at that the ministers should speak of the proceedings
of the councils in their sermons. The independence of the temporal and
the spiritual was as yet far off. It must not be forgotten that it was
for Geneva a creative epoch. Magistrates and reformers were working
at the organization of the State and the Church. Moreover, in this
business morality was in question, and no wonder that the ministers
of God thought that morality was within their province. But the
magistrates looked on the matter in another light, and did not intend
that anyone should give them a lecture. Calvin was fettered not only in
his preaching but still more in the discharge of his pastoral duties.
‘In general,’ he wrote to Bullinger, February 21, ‘we are looked on
here as preachers rather than pastors. We cannot have a Church that
will stand unless the discipline of the apostles be restored.’ However,
he had not lost hope. ‘There is much alteration which we earnestly
desire,’ he further wrote to his friend at Zurich, ‘but which can be
effected only by our applying ourselves to it with faith, diligence,
and perseverance. Oh, that a pure and sincere agreement might at length
be established among us! Would there be any obstacle in the way of the
meeting of a synod, at which everyone might propose what he believed to
be useful to the Churches?’[575]

Having lost all hope in the institutions of the state, the reformer
turned his attention to those of the Church. So long as sincere friends
of the Reformation had been in power, Farel and Calvin had displayed
a spirit of concession even on important points. When the council,
for instance, had determined that the supper should not be refused
to anyone, they had yielded. But now, when they saw at the head of
affairs men who were opposed to order in the Church, they no longer
felt it their duty to yield. They will not allow the state authorities
to organize the spiritual body at their will. They will contend against
notions contrary, as they think, to the Word of God. They will contend
against them by their prayers and efforts, and by their resistance. The
moment is come for them to say with Luther, I can do no otherwise (_Ich
kann nicht anders_). There was enough in such a resolution to arouse
a storm. But other blasts, not less impetuous, and blowing from other
quarters, were soon to assail the reformers.




                              CHAPTER IX.

                STRUGGLES AT BERNE.--SYNOD OF LAUSANNE.

                                (1538.)


The state of affairs at Berne had changed since the synod of September
1537, at which Calvin, appearing on the scene as the messenger of
peace, had brought in concord after strife. Megander, Erasmus Ritter,
and Rhellican complained of the progress of _Bucerism_, and their
adversaries complained of them as disturbers. Megander, it may be
recollected, had agreed at the time of the synod to amend his catechism
to a small extent. Now Bucer himself had in his zeal undertaken the
task, and the council, without consulting Megander, had printed the
revised and amended catechism. This was an act at once imprudent and
wanting in respect. The lords of Berne were accustomed to play to
some extent the part of autocrats. Megander was deeply wounded; and
presenting himself before the council with Erasmus Ritter, he declared
that he was fully determined not to become a Lutheran, and that
consequently he could not allow the corrections of Bucer. Kunz and
Sebastian Meyer on the other hand stoutly defended the catechism as
revised by the Strasburg doctor.

[Sidenote: STRUGGLES AT BERNE.]

The State, when it intrudes into theological discussions, is wanting
in the necessary tact, and is too often influenced by considerations
foreign to religion. The council replied magisterially that the
catechism was in conformity with Scripture; and it added despotically
that Megander and Ritter must accept it as it is, or they would be
immediately deprived of their offices. Ritter, who did not find in the
catechism anything which at bottom imperilled the Christian faith,
submitted. But Megander raised objections more or less well founded.
He was wounded in his _amour-propre_ as author, and observing the
eagerness of his adversaries to annoy him, he perceived that his
position at Berne had become untenable. Therefore he held his ground
and received his _congé_: a measure in which, however, they showed
a certain consideration. It was the end of the year 1537. He then
withdrew to Zurich, which received him with open arms.[576]

This proceeding of the Bernese government excited a great sensation.
Zurich addressed to Berne a sharp remonstrance. The country pastors
of the canton of Berne complained loudly of the government and of
the ecclesiastical councillors, and inquired whether these gentlemen
meant to abjure the Reformation. A meeting was held at Aarau, January
22, 1538, at which it was resolved to make representations to the
council; and the dean of Aarau, Zehnder, named chief of the deputation,
presented the complaint. February 1 was fixed for the hearing of the
two opposing parties. But while Kunz and his colleagues were admitted
into the council chamber and took their places by the side of the
president, the dean and the country ministers waited at the door. No
sooner were they admitted than Kunz addressed them with a haughty air,
and rebuked them in a loud and stern voice. The country deans replied
that they did not mean to be ruled by the city ministers as boys are by
their schoolmaster. The discussion grew warm,[577] and even the members
of the council took part in the quarrel.

Theological motives, as we may see, were not the only cause of the
opposition raised by the country ministers. There were, besides, the
rule which the city ministers assumed to exercise, and the power which
the council arrogated to itself in the Church, and by virtue of which
it had despotically deprived Megander. The country party did not want
an aristocracy of the city clergy; the city party, lay and clerical,
understood this. Little by little, therefore, they both lowered their
tone, and instead of quarrelling they sought reconciliation. The city
members assented to two alterations in the catechism revised by Bucer,
and they declared that the country deputies had acted honorably. The
latter on their part acknowledged that their colleagues of Berne had
not become faithless to the Reformation. Apologies were made for the
sharpness which had been imparted to the discussion. The city ministers
paid visits to those from the country; they conducted them to the house
of the provost, the first ecclesiastic of the canton, who gave them the
warmest reception; they ate and drank together; and at last these good
Swiss parted on the best terms with each other.[578] The cordial letter
which Luther had written to the Swiss, December 1, 1537,[579] soothed
their minds still more. The doctrine set forth by Calvin at the synod
of September, to which Bucer and Capito had given their adhesion, was
recognized at Berne as the true doctrine. Erasmus Ritter, above all,
was heartily devoted to it. There was some hope of finding in it a
basis of union; and by its means the petty divisions of Protestantism
were to disappear.

[Sidenote: EXILE OF MEGANDER.]

Unfortunately, Luther has always had some disciples who were more
Lutheran than himself. Kunz and Sebastian Meyer were of that number.
Dissatisfied with Calvin’s confession, which to them was an irksome
yoke, they were eager to shake it off. A new minister, just then called
to Berne, joined them; but as he was endowed with a quiet, prudent,
and tractable disposition, he constantly sought, although a decided
follower of Luther, to moderate his two violent colleagues. This was
Simon Sulzer. He was an illegitimate son of the Catholic provost of
Interlaken, and had spent his earliest youth in the châlets and on
the magnificent Alps of the Hasli. Haller had afterwards found him in
a barber’s shop where he was earning a living in a humble way; and
discovering his great abilities, he had recommended him to the council.
In 1531 Sulzer became Master of Arts at Strasburg. The council of Berne
had then intrusted to him the task of directing the establishment
of schools in all the places of the canton which had none. He had
afterwards applied himself to theology; had gone to Saxony for the
purpose of holding intercourse with Luther, and on his return had been
named professor of theology at Berne, as successor of Megander. Step by
step he became the most influential representative in Switzerland of
the system which aimed at union with the German reformer.[580]

Kunz, whose aim was the same, was not only a votary of tradition, in
opposition to the Scriptural spirit of the Genevese minister, but he
was also a man actuated by strong personal enmities. Calvin, although
he did not wholly approve of Megander, had emphatically signified the
pain which he had felt at his deprivation. ‘What a loss to the Church,’
he wrote to Bucer, January 12, 1538, ‘and how the enemies of the Gospel
will exult when they see that we begin to banish our pastors; and
that instead of considering how to overcome the powerful adversaries
in whose presence we stand, we are inflicting mortal wounds on one
another. This news of the deprivation of Megander has struck us as
sharp a blow as if we had been told that great part of the Church of
Berne had fallen down.[581] I admit that there was a mixture of what
is human in his cause. But would it not be better to retain such a man
and forgive him that trifling weakness, than to deprive him of his
ministry, to the dishonor of God and of his Word, to the great injury
of the Church, and with serious risk for the future? True, Sebastian
Meyer and Kunz remain; but what can the former do except ruin the cause
of the Gospel by his extravagances,[582] and by the violent outbreaks
in which, when he is no longer master of himself, he indulges? As for
Kunz, I can hardly trust myself to say what he is. Farel tells me that
when he had lately to do with him, he never saw any beast more furious.
His countenance, his gestures, his words, and his very complexion, said
he, reminded him of the Furies.’[583] It is true that Calvin wrote
thus to a friend, to Bucer. He said to him, ‘If I speak so freely to
you, it is because I know to whom I am writing.’ But it was hardly
possibly that Kunz should not hear from some one what Calvin thought
of him. He became his mortal enemy, and he cherished the like hatred
towards the other ministers of Geneva.[584] He let no opportunity
escape him of opposing them. It was to no purpose that the Genevese
sought to show him that they were not his enemies, and to appease him
by their moderation. It was gratifying to him to appoint ministers in
the Bernese territories about whom Calvin had expressed himself in the
severest manner;[585] and when competent men had been examined and
approved at Geneva, he would not receive them until after they had been
re-examined by the Bernese classes.[586] Calvin however knew better
than Kunz. ‘What do such beginnings forebode?’ exclaims Calvin; ‘while
he fancies that he is inflicting lashes on us he is in fact preparing
his own ruin. Assuredly, if that be the will of God, he will fall into
the pit which he has digged, rather than continue to be the cause of so
great troubles to the Church of Christ.’[587]

[Sidenote: RELATIONS OF CHURCH AND STATE.]

In addition to the question of Lutheranism, there was also that of
the relations between the Church and the State, which was a subject
of difference between Berne and the Genevese reformers. At Berne the
magistrate was considered, according to the views of Zwingli, the
representative of the members of the flock; he was the bishop; the
Church was a State Church. Calvin on the contrary, who had seen in
France how the state treated the Reformation, wished for the autonomy
of the Church. He did not indeed demand the complete separation of
Church and State, but he desired that each of these two societies
should have its own government. This was the end for which he was
striving, and Kunz, when once aware of it, was still more enraged. To
these two questions was added that of worship. On this matter, as on
others, Kunz was the ape of Luther, as Megander was of Zwingli. Calvin
was no imitator of either the one or the other, but adopted generally a
middle course. With respect to worship he wished for great simplicity.
Berne had retained certain Catholic usages. They baptized as formerly
in a baptistery; at Geneva they put away the font and made use of a
simple vessel. Berne, at the supper, used wafers and unleavened bread;
Geneva used common bread. Berne had retained several festivals, even
that of the Annunciation of the Virgin; Geneva celebrated none but the
Lord’s day, the Sunday.[588] Farel having found these usages, at least
in part, among the Vaudois, in the visit which he made to those valleys
in 1532, had introduced them at Geneva, and Calvin, finding them there,
had made no change.

Kunz detested these practices, and directed attention to them at Berne.
The Lords of Berne saw these differences with regret, either because
they intended to exercise a certain supremacy over the Church of
Geneva, which they thought was indebted to them to a great extent for
its reformation, and because they desired to see it in all respects
like their own: or because they were afraid that these diversities
would furnish the Catholics with weapons: or because the Churches of
the canton of Vaud seemed inclined to adopt the order of Geneva and
not that of Berne, which in the eyes of those gentlemen was almost an
act of rebellion. The Bernese bailiffs forbade the Vaudois pastors of
their department to receive Calvin and Farel at their colloquies, or
to attend themselves those which were held at Geneva.[589] Farel, who
had rendered signal services to Berne and to Vaud, was now forbidden
to appear in the canton, into which, nevertheless, the fanatic
‘Spirituals’ had free admission. The reformer was indignant. ‘The
Lord reward Kunz according to his deserts,’ he wrote to Fabri. ‘Yes,
the Lord destroy those who go on destroying the Church.’[590] These
expressions are, as we think, more in the spirit of the Old Testament
than of the New.

[Sidenote: SYNOD AT LAUSANNE.]

The Bernese magistrates, in order to establish an outward unity, to
which they attached great importance, as politicians generally do,
determined to convoke a synod at Lausanne, and they wrote on the
subject, March 10, to the magistrates of Geneva. The Council of the
Two Hundred were quite inclined to adopt the usages of Berne as far as
regarded ceremonies. Calvin and Farel having expressed to the council
a desire to attend the proposed assembly, it was decided to send
them, but at the same time to associate with them the councillor Jean
Philippe.

The synod met at Lausanne, March 31. The temper of the Bernese was more
dictatorial than conciliatory. The lords of Berne had indeed requested
that Calvin and Farel should go to Lausanne; but instead of expecting
of the assembly a work of conciliation, they had positively stipulated,
in a letter to the council of Geneva, that the Genevese preachers must
pledge themselves beforehand to adopt the order of worship established
at Berne; and that on this condition only would they be allowed to take
part in the deliberations of the synod. If their adhesion were not
given before the meeting, they should be heard afterwards and should
be separately treated with. The Genevese reformers, therefore, were
invited neither to a free assembly nor a free discussion. No other
right was conceded to them but that of submission. The Bernese added
that the motive of this strange proceeding was to avoid giving their
neighbors an opportunity of slandering the reformed religion, and to
promote the union of the Churches. But the latter object, and through
it the former, too, would probably have been more promptly attained by
treating the ministers of Geneva in a brotherly and not in a despotic
spirit. ‘The Bernese,’ according to Rozet, ‘inquired in a friendly
way of Farel and Calvin on their arrival, whether they accepted their
ceremonial.’ The reformers replied ‘that the subject was well deserving
of discussion.’ Discussion was refused to them.[591]

The Bernese senate had named Kunz one of the presidents of the synod.
Associated with him were the ministers of Erasmus Ritter, and two
members of the great council, Huber and Amman. Kunz was one of those
overbearing characters which inspire awe in other men, and whose
influence is almost irresistible. His colleagues, moreover, were in
agreement with him. The affair did not encounter any difficulty. The
synod, which opened on March 31, unanimously accepted the usages of
Berne,--the baptisteries, the unleavened bread at the supper, and the
festivals, including that of the Annunciation of the Virgin.

Did Calvin and Farel attend the synod or not? It seems hardly probable
that they would be willing by their presence to give a kind of sanction
to an assembly from which they were virtually excluded. The letter
of Berne to Geneva seems, moreover, to indicate clearly that unless
they humbly received the ecclesiastical decisions of the magistrates
and councils of Berne, they would only have a hearing apart. A highly
partial biographer[592] states that they were seen in the town and
even that they ‘went outside of it for pleasure.’ There would have
been no great harm in their taking walks on the surrounding hills and
on the banks of the Aar, enjoying the beauties of Swiss scenery, while
they waited till it should please the lords of Berne to permit them to
speak. But they would have been open to blame for not attending the
synod if the order of Berne had not absolutely prohibited them. History
therefore has been guilty of an error in that, while she mentions their
absence from the synod, she has not reported the fact which justifies
it; that is to say, the strange requirement of Berne,--a grave
omission, which we would fain think was unintentional.[593]

[Sidenote: ABSENCE OF CALVIN AND FAREL.]

The conference between Calvin and Farel and the delegates of Berne
took place. The ministers of Geneva, while they objected to the use
of baptisteries and unleavened bread, had no intention of causing
division on account of such things. They adhered more firmly to their
views respecting festivals. ‘On what ground,’ said Calvin, ‘will you
honor the day of the circumcision more than that of the death of the
Redeemer?’ In fact, Good Friday was not celebrated at Berne. Kunz was
silent.[594] Calvin and Farel wished that questions of this kind should
be settled, not by delegates of the government but by the Church in
its assemblies. They demanded therefore that the decision should be
referred to a synod of the whole Reformed Church of Switzerland, which
was to be held without delay at Zurich. All appearance of compulsion
would thus be avoided; liberty and order would be equally respected,
and the Church would be spared much grievous dissension. ‘There was an
excellent remedy,’ Calvin wrote afterwards to the Zurichers, ‘by means
of which danger might have been obviated; it was that we should be
invited to your synod. But this we could not obtain.’[595]

When the lords of Berne found that their delegates had failed in their
conference with the Genevese ministers, they resolved to write, on the
same day, April 15, two letters: one to Calvin and Farel, the other to
the council of Geneva, having no doubt that this clever contrivance
would succeed. Their two missives were very nearly alike. They urged
the ministers to accept the decision of the synod, without waiting for
the assembly at Zurich, in order that the two Churches, united in the
fundamentals of the faith, might likewise be in conformity in matters
of ceremonial. And to the council they addressed entreaties to accept
the same decision, ‘in the hope that Masters Farel and Calvin, although
they had raised some difficulties, would advise for the best.’[596]




                              CHAPTER X.

     THE COUNTER-REFORMATION PREVAILS.--CALVIN AND FAREL REFUSE TO
        GIVE THE LORD’S SUPPER.--THE PULPIT IS CLOSED TO THEM.

                        (APRIL 15 TO 20, 1538.)


[Sidenote: RESISTANCE OF CALVIN.]

The very circumstances which inspired the confidence of Berne were
exactly those which roused the resistance of Calvin. Those powerful and
magnificent lords could not believe that so dignified an intervention
would fail to secure submission; and Calvin could not consent that
the interests of the Church of Christ should be regulated by the
magistrate, like those of the highways and the soldiery. Besides,
in the present case, the question was about foreign magistrates. To
their intervention the citizen and the Christian could not but be
equally opposed. Calvin wished to maintain the principle of religious
liberty, and he requested that time should be allowed him to come to
an understanding with the other Churches. However, if the letter to
the ministers was unsuccessful, that sent to the council had a success
so abundant that it not only surpassed the hopes of the Bernese,
but crossed their desires and threw an obstacle in the way of their
projects. The syndics who had been named in a spirit hostile to the
reformers, and all the citizens who had placed them in office, were
delighted to see variance between Berne and Calvin and Farel. For them
it was a piece of real good fortune, although for the ministers it was
a grievous event. The two states, Berne and Geneva, acting in unison,
would soon get the better of two poor ministers. Further, the council
was at this time in a bad humor. The third preacher, the aged and
energetic Courault, who had remained at Geneva, had blamed the syndics
in one of his sermons, and it was resolved to reprimand him. It is safe
to rely, in this matter, on what the Registers state. It is not right
to receive, as some have done, the burlesque and lying imputations of
the notorious slanderer Bolsec, who, ‘after the example of Herostratos,
chose to pass down to posterity branded with infamy.’[597] The council
forbade Courault to preach. This was the state of things when the
letters from Berne arrived. The council immediately gave orders that
Calvin and Farel should appear before them on Friday, April 19. It
was the Holy week, and that day was the day of the Passion. This
consideration caused no hesitation on the part of the enemies of the
Reformation. As the holy supper was to be celebrated two days later on
Easter Sunday, they were anxious to hurry forward the business. The
ministers then found themselves between the anvil and the hammer; they
must submit or fall, and do which they would, they would be weakened
and lowered. The secretary having read the letter from Berne, the first
syndic declared to the reformers that the council was determined to
accede to the demand of that city, and to conform to the usages there
established with respect to ceremonies. Then he asked them if they
would themselves observe them, and requested them to answer Yes or No.
Calvin and Farel demanded the time necessary, not merely, as has been
asserted, for reflection on the subject, but also and especially, that
the question might be settled by the competent authorities, the Swiss
synod, which in ten days (April 29) was to be held at Zurich. Meanwhile
they begged that no innovation should be made until the next supper. In
making this request Calvin pledged himself to accept whatever should
be decreed by that legitimate authority. This was on his part a large
concession. To his Scriptural and just judgment it did not appear
consistent, after separating from Roman Catholicism, still to retain
any part of the system, even were it only a trifle, such as unleavened
bread, baptisteries, and festivals. To one of the latter, especially,
he felt great objection. He knew that small concessions lead on to
large ones, and he feared that Rome would act according to the proverb,
and if you gave an inch would take an ell. It is needless to repeat how
decided and firm Calvin was, and yet, out of love for peace and for
unity, he conceded to his adversaries what he might justly have refused
them. All he asked was that they would wait for ten days the decision
of the synodal authority. This, assuredly, was not saying No in an
absolute manner.[598] It was quite the reverse; and the adversaries
of Calvin ought rather to have wondered at his compliance than have
blamed him for his inflexible obstinacy. His request was fair, and it
ought to have been granted. But they would not listen to it. It was
ordered that the supper should be celebrated conformably to the Bernese
usage; and the council appointed the magistrates who were to take care
that it was thus celebrated in the churches of St. Peter, St. Gervais,
and Rive. It may be asked how it was that men who were by no means
remarkable for their attachment to traditional observances should be so
obstinate in sacrificing the ritual of Geneva to the ritual of Berne.
Impartial judges have said, ‘The Council had taken this resolution in
order to win over the Bernese and to implicate them in the opposition
to the reformers.’[599] We confess that this explanation appears to us
very probable.

[Sidenote: DISTURBANCES AT GENEVA.]

This decision was despotic, and in that very quality was in accordance
with the order which the councils intended to establish at Geneva, that
of _Césaropapia_, in which the prince and the magistrate, taking the
place of the pope, settle everything in the Church. The inflexibility
of the council on the one side and the firmness of the reformers on
the other came into collision, and the result was a shock to the
people which troubled their everyday life and could not, but lead to
a conflict. Those who formed the lowest section of the opposition,
excited and agitated, began to cry out against the resistance of the
ministers, and they thought that if the latter would not obey with a
good grace, they must be compelled to yield by terror and by force.
If the people were to express their will with energy, if they took up
arms, and filled the streets and massed themselves like roaring waves
in front of the houses of Farel, Calvin, and Courault, those men, no
matter what their strength might be, would have no choice but to give
way before that impetuous torrent. ‘Thereupon,’ says the chronicler
Rozet, ‘great excesses and blasphemies were committed. Dissolute men
went about the town by night in dozens, armed with arquebuses, which
they discharged in front of the ministers’ houses. They shouted, _The
Word of God!_ and after that, _The word of Andrew!_ They threatened
to throw them into the Rhone if they did not come to some agreement
with the magistrates respecting the ceremonies in question; and these
proceedings, all open and notorious, went unpunished.’[600] It is not
easy to ascertain what the cry, _The word of Andrew_, meant.[601]
The cry, _To the Rhone!_ was invariably heard at Geneva when popular
risings took place. Froment was greeted with it when he began to preach
the Gospel there; and some women would have thrown him _over the
bridge_ (_du pont en bas_) if a party of men had not rescued him. They
did not, indeed, fling every one into the Rhone whom they threatened;
but these cries could not but seem to Farel and Calvin a mournful
return for their great and severe labors.

[Sidenote: INDIGNATION OF COURAULT.]

These disorderly deeds had lamentable consequences. Neither Farel
nor Calvin complained of them. They had now at heart interests more
important than their own, more precious even than their lives. They
did not return evil for evil. But the former preacher to the Queen
of Navarre, the blind and aged Courault, was not so forbearing. He
likewise had heard these insults. A man of integrity and devoted to
duty, he had at the same time a heart easily wounded, and he knew how
to speak hard words. The night between Friday and Saturday, during
which these cries had resounded in the city, was not a pleasant or a
peaceful one for him. He was more irritated, perhaps, on account of
the indignities which were heaped upon Calvin and Farel than for what
concerned himself. Chagrin, disquietude, and anger kept him sleepless.
His blood was heated, his heart was incensed, his imagination inflamed.

    ‘Je me tourne et m’agite et ne peux nulle part
    Trouver que l’insomnie, amère, impatiente,
    Qu’un malaise inquiet et qu’une fièvre ardente.’[602]

The state of poor old Courault seems to be described in these lines.
To him these disorders were intolerable, and he said that if men
should hold their peace the very stones would cry aloud. He would cry
out, and cry out in the pulpit. True, that was forbidden him; but no
matter, in spite of the prohibition of men he would preach. He rose
very early and went to St. Peter’s church to perform the service of
six o’clock A.M., with no other preparation, alas! than the
distress and bitterness which had preyed on his mind through the
night. The character of his preaching was not such as was wanted for a
people so sensitive as the Genevese. His eloquence somewhat resembled
that of the monks to whose order he had belonged, which consisted,
for the most part, in making a noise and in shouting.[603] His mind
was not cultivated, but he had a glowing imagination, which animated
his discourse and enabled him to hit hard blows. Although he was of
a more serious turn, he shared, to some extent, the faults of the
most illustrious orators of the preceding period, Barletta, Maillard,
and Menot; and he sometimes attacked, as they did, the vices of his
hearers by satire occasionally delicate and occasionally coarse, but
always prompted by a good and grave intention. He would now discharge
his conscience. Let them put him in prison, banish him, or beat
him soundly; his soul, wearied with grief, must burst its bonds.
He uttered, doubtless, some excellent things, some true and pious
words; but, agitated as he was, he allowed himself to indulge in that
intemperate mode of speech which was then so common. With his spirit
still disturbed by those noisy and tumultuous crowds collected under
the windows of the reformers, from the midst of which came redoubled
shouts, jesting songs, insults, accusations, and menaces, he likened
them to the ‘kingdom of the frogs,’ that from the bosom of the marshes
croak and make a loud noise. Then recalling a vulgar phrase, the old
Frenchman, hardly escaped from the rough life of persecution, inquired
of the Genevese what they complained of,--they who were ‘like rats in
straw,’ that is to say, were folk greatly at their ease, possessing
everything they could wish and in want of nothing.[604] In another
passage, rising to a higher strain, and recalling the image of
Nebuchadnezzar, with its head of gold and its feet part of iron and
part of clay, fragile and broken by a little stone, he predicted to the
syndics and councils that as intrigue had placed them in office they
would not long retain their power. ‘You, gentlemen of the government,’
said he, ‘you have feet of wax.’ These feet, in his opinion, would soon
melt in the sunshine of their victory and prosperity. This comparison,
imitative of Biblical style, was not unbefitting to a preacher, and
the prophecy which it contained did not fail of accomplishment. At the
news of this minister preaching in defiance of the prohibition, and
at the report of his sayings, which were most likely misrepresented,
the government felt that they were insulted, and determined to act
rigorously. Officers of state went to the old man’s house, arrested
and took him to prison. It was the eve of Easter Day. It was customary
to make presents at that period; and this was the present which was
bestowed on the aged, noble, but free-spoken minister and confessor of
Christ, who had already experienced treatment too rough at the hands of
the adherents of the pope in the kingdom of France.[605]

[Sidenote: PROTEST AGAINST HIS IMPRISONMENT.]

The news of the imprisonment of Courault rapidly spread through Geneva,
and deeply affected the friends of the Reformation. A pastor in prison!
Yes, and justly, if he were guilty of any common offence. But he had
done what he believed to be his duty. From the Christian pulpit he
had rebuked scandalous excesses, and on that account he was committed
to prison, while those who were really guilty of them were let alone
and went unpunished.[606] It appears from the protocol of the 19th,
that two men, forming part of the band which had gone about singing by
night and had made disturbances at Rive, had been themselves placed
in confinement. But the place and the date of that affair prove that
it was on a quite different charge. The incarceration of Courault
filled Calvin and Farel with sorrow, for they esteemed their old and
venerable colleague, and they knew how much he had already suffered
for the truth’s sake. Some of the councillors and citizens friendly
to the Reformation resolved to protest against the imprisonment of
their pastor. Claude Savoye, Michel Sept, Lambert, Chautemps, Domaine
d’Arlod, Claude and Louis Bernard, Deserts, Claude Pertemps, and many
others joined Calvin and Farel, and they all went together in a long
procession to the Hôtel de Ville. They entered the hall of the council,
and found there two out of the four syndics, and these the men who were
most against them, Richardet and de Chapeaurouge.

Farel spoke first. He complained that they had acted ‘ill, wickedly,
and unjustly in putting Courault in prison,’ and demanded that the
Council of the Two Hundred should be assembled. The laymen thought
it strange that their adversaries should not be satisfied with
announcing, like Richardet, that they would not go to the preaching,
but should seem to intend also to deprive their fellow-citizens of
it by committing the preachers to prison. The notion that a syndic
should presume to hinder him from hearing the Word of God especially
irritated Michel Sept. ‘They shall preach!’ he said, vehemently.
Farel, remembering all that he had done and borne through long years
for this city of Geneva, to the emancipation of which he had probably
contributed more than any other man by his teaching, his courage, his
prayers, and his deeds, said to the magistrates, ‘Without me you would
not be what you are.’

The syndics replied that, as the pulpit had been interdicted to
Courault, and he had nevertheless preached that very morning, and had
announced that he should continue to do so, they would not set him at
liberty. The magistrates wished to see if this incident would furnish
them with an opportunity of attaining the end which they had set before
them. ‘Will you,’ they said to Farel and Calvin, ‘submit to the letters
and ordinances of the lords of Berne? In that case we might restore
to you your colleague.’ This bargain, which consisted in the release
to them of an innocent prisoner if they on their part would do what
they held to be wrong, appeared to the ministers a piece of shameful
trafficking. ‘We will do, in such matters, what God commands,’ they
replied. However, they were not willing to abandon their colleague.
They offered to give bail, that he might under that guarantee be set
at liberty. This proposition was a usual one in such cases, but the
magistrates declined to accept it, and the reason which they gave
for their refusal aggravated the harshness of the act. ‘Courault,’
they said, ‘is not a _citizen of Geneva_, and he is imprisoned _for
contempt of justice_.’ The members of the council were thoroughly bent
on getting rid of Courault, who was less prudent than his colleagues.
It appears from authentic documents, that they even offered Calvin to
wait, as to the question of ritual, for the decision of the synod of
Zurich, if he would consent that Courault should be deprived of his
office of preacher. This Calvin refused.[607] The petitioners withdrew,
much pained by the severity of the council towards their friend, and
some of the laymen, especially Lambert, complained aloud as they
quitted the Hôtel de Ville. They spoke of ‘_false witnesses_ who had
been examined; of _traitors_ in the general council; and it is well
known,’ they said, ‘who they are.’[608]

[Sidenote: FAILURE OF THE INTERVENTION.]

The council met after the departure of the reformers and their friends,
and again decided that the Lord’s supper should be celebrated the
next day, Easter Sunday, according to the rites established at Berne,
and not according to those of Geneva; and it decreed that, if the
ministers still refused to celebrate it, they should be forbidden to
preach. One cannot but be astonished at this decision, and at the
mean spirit which it displays on the part of the council. Simple and
evangelical usages had been established in Geneva: the citizens had
been called upon to take an oath in St. Peter’s church to a confession
of faith which in its spirit is entirely in agreement with those
practices; and now, in a matter which but little concerns it, in order
to gratify the lords of Berne, whom it could easily resist when it
chose to do so, the council determined to compel the ministers to
observe a ceremony essentially Judaic,[609] even at the risk of seeing
worship suspended and the Church overthrown. This looks very much like
a pretext, good or bad, which they laid hold of for the purpose of
getting rid of the reformers. The chief-usher went in the afternoon
to the pastors to communicate the decree to them. He did not find
Farel, but Calvin, learning from the officer that the civil magistrate,
without waiting for the resolution of the synod of Zurich, was himself
deciding this ecclesiastical question, just as if it were an affair of
military orders to give to an officer, refused to accept the order.
Thereupon the chief-usher, in the name of the council, prohibited his
preaching.[610]

What to do? This was the question which Calvin put to himself. He
longed for unity and peace in Geneva. He appealed afterwards to the
Genevese themselves. ‘We take God to witness,’ said he, ‘and your own
consciences, in the light of his countenance, that while we have been
among you all our exertions have been directed towards preserving you
in happy union and pleasing concord. But those who had a mind to form
a party by themselves have separated from us, and have introduced
division in your Church and in your city.’[611] Lambert’s exclamation,
when he spoke aloud of _traitors_ and _false witnesses_, is sufficient
to show us what was the state of Geneva at that time. Concord was
nothing more than a lovely dream. The most violent passions were called
into play. One would have said that God was giving up the inhabitants
of the city to the unruly motions of their own hearts; and that is the
most terrible chastisement which he ever employs in the punishment of
men. Not, indeed, that these motions showed themselves violent alike in
all. The lower classes were agitated, like their lake when the north
wind, blowing impetuously, lifts up the waves and dashes them furiously
on the rocks, the walls, and the banks. But among other classes
appearances were better kept up. Nevertheless, if any reason were still
left, it was too often only passion that made use of it for its own
ends.

[Sidenote: CONFUSION.]

The confusion that prevailed in Geneva at this period is attested
by contemporaries. ‘Popery had indeed been forsworn,’ says Theodore
Beza,[612] ‘but many had not cast away with it those numerous and
disgraceful disorders which had for a long time flourished in the city,
given up as it was for so many years to canons and impure priests.
Some of the families which stood in the highest rank still kept alive
those old enmities which grew up at the period of the wars with
Savoy.’[613] ‘The mischief had gone to such a length that the city,
owing to the factious temper of some of the citizens, was divided into
various parties.’[614] ‘Nothing was to be heard,’ says Michel Rozet,
‘but informations (_dénonces_) and quarrels between the former and
the present lords (the former and the new councils), some being the
ringleaders, others following in their steps; the whole mingled with
reproaches about the booty taken in the war, or the spoils carried off
from the churches.’[615]

‘There was nothing but confusion.’[616]

Neither the mild admonitions which were at first tried, nor the more
rigorous reprimands to which recourse was afterwards had, produced any
effect on the disturbers of the peace, and they failed to put an end to
their disorderly proceedings.[617]

‘I have lived here,’ says Calvin himself, when speaking of this period,
‘engaged in strange contests. I have been saluted in mockery, of an
evening, before my own door, with fifty or sixty shots of arquebuses.
You may imagine how that must astound a poor scholar, timid as I am,
and as I confess I always was.’[618]

Such was the melancholy condition of Geneva according to men who,
on questions of fact and of public fact, are the most respectable
authorities that history can produce. She has but few witnesses endowed
with the moral courage of Michel Rozet, Theodore Beza, and Calvin.[619]

[Sidenote: PERPLEXITY OF THE REFORMERS.]

The reformers were in great perplexity. The synod of Lausanne, at
which the Bernese had opposed the hearing of the representatives of
the Genevese Church, could not bind the latter. Their resistance to
the introduction of new usages, which was ordered by the council
without awaiting the decision of the synod of Zurich, was legitimate.
If matters of that kind are left to the decision of the civil power,
the natural order of things is inverted, the autonomy of the Church is
disowned; and who knows whether, in a turbulent democracy, religion
may not fall into the hands of an excited people who will, according
to the saying of a celebrated but scoffing writer, take it up ‘to play
at ball with it, and make it bound upwards as readily with the foot
as with the fist.’[620] However, Calvin could not help asking himself
whether the actual question, the acceptance of unleavened bread which
the Jews used to eat at the time of the Passover, was of a sufficiently
weighty kind to put an end to his ministry at Geneva. He did not
think it was. ‘If we have at heart,’ he said, ‘union and peace, let
us seek after a unity of minds in doctrine, rather than insist in a
too scrupulous manner on a conformity of the most exact kind to this
or that ceremony. There are some points on which the Lord leaves us
freedom, in order that our edification may be the greater. Not to be
careful about this edification, and to seek instead of it a slavish
conformity, is unworthy of a Christian.’[621] Such were Calvin’s views
on the question about leavened or unleavened bread.

But the question was about a quite different matter. The reformer had
before him a town in agitation and division, its parties, quarrels,
hatreds, scoffings, cries, disorders, and scandals. Is this the temple
in which the festival of peace is to be celebrated? ‘No,’ said he,
‘the aspect of the Church is not at present such as the legitimate
administration of our office requires.[622] Whatever people may say,
we do not believe that our ministry ought to be confined within such
narrow limits that when once we have delivered our sermon we have
nothing more to do except to rest as if we had accomplished our task.
It is more than that; it is that we must with greater vigilance take
care of those whose blood will be demanded at our hands if they should
perish through our negligence. This solicitude fills us with distress
of mind at all times, but when we have to distribute the Lord’s supper,
then it fiercely consumes and cruelly torments us.[623] While the faith
of many of those who wish to take part in it is in our opinion doubtful
and even open to suspicion, we see them all rushing headlong and
pell-mell to the sacred table. And one would say that they are eating
greedily the wrath of God rather than partaking of the sacrament of
life.’[624] Calvin, as these words show, had still before his eyes that
riotous communion of January, previous to which the council had decreed
‘that the supper _should not be refused to anyone_.’ He recollected the
disposition, the look, the deportment, with which many had taken part
in it; he still felt the heaviness of heart which he had experienced
when giving the bread of life to such men. Now all had grown worse. The
evil which had then shown itself, bursting the few chains which kept it
down, now broke forth with violence. The population was excited, angry,
rebellious. It was no longer merely the profligacy of some individuals;
there was general perplexity, disturbance, and confusion. The agitation
was not confined to the coarser minds; some of the most cultivated were
going beyond all bounds. The saying of a celebrated writer with respect
to another city might be applied to Geneva, ‘The devil is let loose on
this town: within the memory of man so frightful a time has not been
seen.’

[Sidenote: VIOLENCE OF PARTIES.]

Was this the moment for celebrating the feast of peace? In the judgment
of every sensible man it would have been an absurdity. If a feast is
to be held on board ship, is it to be just when the whirlwind of the
tempest strikes the vessel, when the sea-waves lift themselves up, when
those on board shake and totter like a drunken man, while they go up to
the heavens and down to the abysses? Is that the time for the dance to
begin, and for the passengers gracefully to execute measured paces, to
the sound of musical instruments? Or would anyone choose for attendance
at a sweet and harmonious concert the moment when the hall is on fire?
And yet it was proposed, in the midst of burning lawless passions,
to have by force, by the decree of the magistrate, a display of holy
things which would be nothing but a profanation.

It cannot even be said, as is usually said, that the subject of
excommunication was in question here. Not to give the supper at
present did not mean that it should not be given afterwards. Calvin
had given it. But it was not the time for it. _Non erat hic locus._
The reformer acted with the wisdom of a physician who will not give
leave to impatient sick folk to take a mountain journey; he will do
so afterwards, when they have regained their strength, but not now.
Perhaps there may be individuals among them who will never scale the
rocks because they will never have the power to do so. But that has
nothing to do with those who are whole. For the physician there will
be no more lovely day than that on which, at the head of his party, he
shall be able to breathe with his friends the keen and healthful air of
the heights, which at an earlier period would have killed them. That
joy, we say again, Calvin had once tasted.

Calvin and Farel, having considered everything, took such a resolution
as circumstances demanded; they would not give the supper on the
following day, which was Easter Day. Having adopted this resolution,
they communicated it to the authorities. ‘Farel and Calvin,’ says
Rozet, ‘informed the council that they could not administer the supper
_in the midst of these divisions, gangs, and blasphemies, and with
profligacies multiplying around them_.’[625] Such was their motive
clearly expressed. But they would do more than that. They had been
prohibited from preaching. What! on this Easter Day should the doors
of the churches be closed and the pulpit be dumb! Moreover, since
they had refused to celebrate the supper, they owed to those whom God
had confided to their ministry to give them their reasons. That was
not for their harm but for their good, and they were bound to do it.
Nevertheless, to occupy the pulpit on that day in defiance of the
prohibition of the government, which was supported by the majority of
the people, would be a grave affair for these two men, both feeble
in body, the one in consequence of his labors, and the other by
constitution. ‘But,’ said Calvin one day, recalling a saying of David,
‘though _a camp, an army_, that is to say, everything which is terrible
and appalling in the world, should rise up against us, though all men
should conspire to destroy us, we have no fear of all their might, for
the power of God is far greater. We shall not be entirely free from
fear; if we were, it would rather be from stupidity than from courage.
But we shall hold before us the shield of faith, lest our hearts should
faint or fail through the terrors which beset us.’[626] A victory which
the court of Turin, with the aid of Spain and of the pope, failed to
gain over the senate and people of Geneva, these two feeble men attempt
and win. Here was one of the most beautiful triumphs of which the cause
of religious liberty engaged in a conflict with the despotism of the
state can boast. It was more than that. It was Christian heroism which
prefers the fulfilment of the will of God, with exile, to a comfortable
abode in one of the fairest countries in the world, with a conscience
sacrificed and a slavish submission to Cæsar in things pertaining to
God. It was in this character that the two principal witnesses to
Calvin’s life regarded it. ‘Thenceforth Calvin,’ says one of them, ‘as
he was of a spirit essentially heroic, stoutly and steadily resisted
the seditious, together with the aforesaid Farel.’[627]--‘Farel and
Calvin,’ says the other, ‘each endowed with a noble and heroic spirit,
openly declared that they could not celebrate in a religious manner the
Lord’s supper, among citizens who were so miserably at variance with
each other, and so opposed to all discipline in the church.’[628] The
decay of Christian principle is the only possible explanation of the
fact that some should have ventured a judgment on them, contrary to
that which was pronounced by contemporaries.




                              CHAPTER XI.

      CALVIN AND FAREL PREACH IN SPITE OF THE PROHIBITION BY THE
               COUNCIL.--THEY ARE BANISHED FROM GENEVA.

                            (EASTER, 1538.)


[Sidenote: APPROACH OF THE CRISIS.]

The crisis was approaching. The danger was increasing. Geneva was
in one of those perilous but decisive moments in which some sudden
change takes place, whether for better or for worse. The population
was getting more and more excited. The news that the ministers would
not celebrate the supper in Geneva raised irritation to the highest
pitch. All explanations were useless; many people would not listen to
anything; anger had stopped their ears. It is said that in the evening
the streets were in an uproar, and that bands of factious men were
shouting against the ministers. It is even added that a masquerade had
been organized for the purpose of presenting a parody of scenes from
the Gospel. We are not sure that the libertines went to that length;
but there was during the evening a great agitation in the town, as the
next day too plainly showed. These scenes of tumult greatly grieved
Calvin. If he turned his thoughts to the past, the great sorrows
which he had already borne in Geneva appeared to him again; and he
foresaw that those which were approaching would be more bitter still.
Interfered with in the preaching of the Word, in the administration of
the sacraments, in the maintenance of apostolical discipline and in
the organization of the Church (the council refused its consent to the
division of the town into parishes, a measure which would have greatly
facilitated the discharge of pastoral duties, and have promoted the
good of families), what was he to do? ‘I confess,’ he wrote, ‘that the
first letters by which the senate endeavored to turn aside my will
from the right path struck me a heavy blow.[629] I saw that I was thus
again plunged into the distresses from which I had hoped that I was
delivered by the great goodness of God. When I accepted the government
of this Church, in conjunction with my excellent and most faithful
colleague Farel, I applied myself in all good conscience to seeking
out the means by which it might be maintained; and although it was for
me a very laborious charge, I never thought of abandoning the place.
I considered myself as set by the hand of God at a post from which
I could not withdraw. And nevertheless, if I were to tell the least
part of the cares, or rather of the miseries, which we were forced
to endure throughout a whole year, I am sure that you would think it
incredible.[630] I can assure you that not a day has passed in which I
did not ten times wish for death.’[631] This Easter eve, when he was on
the point of exposing himself to the greatest griefs, while giving unto
God the honor which is due to him, was doubtless one of those days. He
must drink the cup of the people’s wrath. He, the timid scholar, as he
declares that he always had been, must now face these furious men. But
one thought gave him strength; it is the will of God, and his will must
be done.

[Sidenote: EASTER SUNDAY.]

Easter Sunday dawned. From early morning great agitation prevailed
in the town. The adversaries and friends of the reformers were both
troubled, but in different ways. The former were impatient to see
if they would really preach notwithstanding the prohibition of the
council, and to hear what they might have to say. The latter also were
eager to go to divine service, either from a sentiment of piety or in
order to defend the ministers in case, as some expected, there should
be any disturbance in the churches. The movements of the multitude,
the groups which were forming at various points, the violent speeches
which were uttered from time to time, all were calculated to inspire
fear. In timid souls there was also an inward trouble, an anxiety, and
a heart-ache, inevitable under circumstances so grave. Men, women,
and children, the roar of the crowd, and the confused voices of the
people, filled the streets. Strange things were fancied, evil reports
were circulated. One would almost have said, seeing the general stir,
that some one was going to be led to execution. The crowd was drifting
towards the places of execution. The inhabitants of the right bank
betook themselves to the church of St. Gervais, in which Farel was to
preach; those of the left bank and of the upper part of the town to the
cathedral of St. Peter, where Calvin would preach. They entered the
doors and filled the churches. The friends of the reformers took their
places in general about the pulpit. Their adversaries, distributed
over all parts of the building, and exchanging bold words with each
other, asked themselves whether it was not their duty to aid the
magistrate and prevent the ministers from speaking. The district on the
right bank was that in which most of the opponents of the ministers
lived. Probably some of their most violent enemies had come from
other quarters to hear Farel, whose presence was less imposing than
Calvin’s, and with whom they were more familiarly acquainted. The brave
evangelist had not ceased for some years lavishing his powers for the
good of Geneva, and for this they meant to pay him on this day. Farel
appeared, entered the pulpit, and at the sight of him considerable
excitement was manifested by the audience. No attempt, however, was
made to close his mouth. The preaching of this popular orator at the
present moment was a spectacle which interested them as much as or even
more than any other. The prayer and the hymns being over, the discourse
began. Farel, with his intrepid heart, his fervent spirit, his strong
convictions, and his power of impressing and carrying away his hearers,
did not conceal the truth. Without dwelling on the question of bread,
which he declared was a secondary matter, he spoke of the holiness of
the supper. He remonstrated with the people, as if they intended, in
his opinion, to defile the holy sacrament,’[632] and he declared that,
to prevent such a profanation, the holy supper would not be celebrated.
These words moved the whole assembly, and roused a great part of them
to indignation. Adversaries became disorderly, friends were in alarm.
Imaginations were heated, anger burst forth, and outcries were heard.
_In the morning a disturbance was got up against Farel in the church of
St. Gervais._[633] But the preacher’s habit was to brave danger; and,
above all, he knew no fear when unworthy men

   Voulaient du Dieu vivant braver la majesté.

[Sidenote: DISTURBANCE AT ST. GERVAIS.]

He therefore went on. His popular eloquence, his animated movements,
his imagery so well adapted to make his ideas more lively and more
obvious, his energetic gestures, his voice like thunder, the resounding
of which, according to Theodore Beza, made his hearers tremble, made
him the most captivating of the orators of France and Switzerland.
Farel, who generally spoke extempore, could not but be struck at the
spectacle which presented itself to him, for the congregation in such
circumstances always reacts on the preacher. He was standing in the
presence of a stormy sea, the surging waves of which appeared about
to engulf him. But he felt that he stood on a rock, and he had learnt
long ago to brave the tempest. He then courageously unfolded the act of
accusation. He set forth those things which would profane the supper.
He enumerated ‘those divisions, those bands, those blasphemies, those
profligacies which were multiplying, and which made it impossible for
the ministers to administer it.’[634] For a long time people could
not listen to him without being charmed, but it was quite otherwise
at this moment. Men’s minds were more and more agitated, hearts were
rebellious, the opposition burst forth, voices changed by passion
were heard, and the disturbance of which the chronicler tells filled
the church of St. Gervais. Farel, however, kept the upper hand. His
character and his action awed the rebels. His friends protected his
departure, and he succeeded in reaching his own house unharmed.

Meanwhile Calvin was preaching at St. Peter’s. What was passing there?

[Sidenote: CALVIN’S MORNING SERMON.]

The worship appears to have been quiet and dignified; the scenes of
St. Gervais, at any rate, were not repeated here. The quarter in which
the cathedral stood, its imposing and solemn aspect, the composition
of the congregation, the magistrates, who doubtless were present in
large numbers, the grave countenance of the reformer, partly explain
this decorum. But the character of his speech, calm, simple, rich
in thought, luminous, and illuminating all the subjects of which he
treated, concise, awe-inspiring, and convincing, without the vivid and
popular flashes of Farel, doubtless contributed thereto to a great
extent. Nevertheless Calvin kept back nothing. ‘We protest before
you all,’ he said, ‘that we are not obstinate on the question about
bread, leavened or unleavened; that is a matter of indifference which
is left to the discretion of the Church. If we decline to administer
the supper, it is because we are in a great difficulty which prompts
us to this course.’ Then he spoke of the divisions, the bands of men,
the blasphemies, the profligacies, disorders, abominations, mockery of
God and his Gospel, the troubles and the sects which prevailed in the
town. ‘For,’ he said, ‘in public, and without any kind of punishment
being inflicted for it, a thousand derisive speeches have been uttered
against the Word of God and likewise against the supper.’[635] He then
stated unreservedly the motives which deterred him from celebrating
the communion. But he does not appear to have gone further. He had
doubtless more than once in his discourses transgressed the limits
of moderation; but it seems that the solemnity of the occasion and
the dignity of the pulpit led him to suppress those violent phrases
with which his speech sometimes bristled. He had a difficult task
to accomplish. He was bound to make these people understand the
obligations imposed on them by the profession of Christianity. Every
member of a society has, in fact, certain duties to discharge, which
are essential to the very existence of the community; in the same
way, every member of the Church owes to it an edifying and blameless
life. Christians form but one body, and it is a matter of concern to
each of its members that God should be honored in them all. Evident
hypocrisy and shameless depravity, in any man making profession of
being a Christian, are an injury to the whole Christian society. Union
with God is incompatible with a state of sin; vice and virtue are two
things which never go together. To regard as a trifle and a matter
of indifference the implacable opposition which exists between truth
and falsehood, between holiness and licentiousness, so that the one
or the other may be pursued without any ground for preference, is the
degradation of humanity and the scandal of scandals. If this mode of
thought prevail, the Christian Church is in a state of suffering;
it must be defended, it must be saved; and a Church unwilling to be
defended would be in a very unhealthy condition. More than that, and
Calvin frequently called it to mind, to maintain the necessity of a
life conformed to the Word of God is of importance even to the man
whose conduct is in opposition to his commandments. This necessity is
insisted on not to destroy but to save him. ‘It is maintained in such a
manner,’ said Calvin, ‘as to bring him back into the way of salvation,
and the Church is quite ready to receive him as a friend. She must not
exercise a too rigorous severity; she must not proceed strictly to
extremities and show herself inexorable, but must rather come forward
with gentleness. If this moderation be not carefully adhered to, there
is danger that from correctors we should become executioners.’[636]

These were Calvin’s principles. His discourse has not been handed down
to us, but it is impossible to suppose that he did not speak according
to his deepest convictions; and if he did so, that would partly account
for the calmness with which he was listened to. He was, however,
mistaken on one point, and this we cannot too fully acknowledge. At
that time the Church and the state were everywhere almost confounded,
so that ‘the state did not hesitate to intermeddle in many subjects
which were within the province of the Church.’[637] This was
particularly the case at Geneva. Of all the reformers, Calvin was the
one who had it most at heart to establish the autonomy of the Church,
and thereby a certain independence of the two societies. But, like his
contemporaries, he adhered to the opinions of his own age and of those
which had preceded it. The elements of Judaic discipline had, from the
first century, trenched on the ground of Christian discipline. The
Reformation doubtless effected everywhere a great change in this state
of things; but still the state was seen, even at Geneva, thrusting its
iron arm into the midst of the Christian societies for the purpose of
striking the guilty. That is a coarse and fatal error, one which every
true Christian must energetically cast from him. Fortunately there
could be no question on this point in the great conflict of Easter
1538. The state was then for the moment separated from the Church, and
the reformers did not and would not make use of any other weapons than
those of the Spirit.

[Sidenote: HIS EVENING SERMON.]

If the reformer had been able to preach with tranquillity in the
morning, it was to be otherwise in the evening. The most furious of
his adversaries thought that they owed him something, and in their
wrath meant to discharge the debt. So long as they had had to do
only with the good-natured Farel, matters had gone on pretty well,
notwithstanding his lively sallies; but this young man from Noyon was
a spirit of a different stamp, and since he came to Geneva everything
had changed. He had a methodical intellect and the faculty for
organization. Had he not prepared a fundamental law of the Church, to
which they had been obliged to take the oath at St. Peter’s? He wanted
to regulate everything, and this was not convenient. Since Farel had
been attacked, it was not fair to let Calvin escape. An uproar had
been made in the morning at St. Gervais; another shall be made in the
evening at the church of St. Francis at Rive. It was in that convent
that Farel had for the first time appeared in the pulpit, March 1,
1534; and there Calvin was to preach, April 21, 1538. The quarter in
which this convent stood was situated in the lower part of the town,
not far from the shores of the lake, and it was probably less quiet
than the neighborhood of the cathedral. The church was speedily filled,
and Calvin arrived. He began his sermon. Knowing that Farel had been
treated worse than himself, it is possible that, to leave no ground
for reproaching himself, he might think it his duty to put a stronger
emphasis on his words, and to lay stress on certain things, in order to
make them observed and felt. For the rest, had he spoken like an angel,
he would not have escaped the tumult. Men’s minds were irritated; the
thought of resisting this inflexible man had seized on many, and made
them frantic; they had even taken their swords, and had come to church
as to a military parade. Violence often remains at first smouldering,
silent, and makes no sign. It appears to have been so in this case; but
at some word uttered by the preacher, it revealed itself in a sudden
explosion. One would have said that a stormy wind passed over that
crowd, and impressed on it a passionate movement. In the church of
Rive there were violent speeches and threatening gestures. This was not
all. In sight of that orator, whose dignity and power irritated them,
the most furious drew their swords, and the flash of steel was seen in
the sanctuary of peace. No one, it is true, directed the fatal edge at
the throat of the orator. It appears, however, that a struggle took
place between the friends and the enemies of the Reformation, and that
arms were crossed; for the great magistrate of Geneva in the sixteenth
century, Michel Rozet, felt bound to say in his chronicle that the
affair passed off _without bloodshed_.[638] The syndic Gautier, too,
looks on this fortunate circumstance as _a kind of miracle_. Thus,
after having heard the firing of arquebuses, fifty or sixty times in
the course of the evening, against his own house, the reformer at this
hour saw glittering swords brandished against him in the very house of
God. Luther and other reformers were also tried by such tribulations,
but in their case they came from the pope and his adherents, not from
people of their own Church. Was Calvin agitated, or did he remain calm
in the presence of this outbreak? We do not know. It is probable that,
while inwardly agitated, he preserved an outward calmness. While some
of his friends gathered around the pulpit to defend him, there were
happily found a few moderate men, belonging to both sides, who exerted
themselves to restore peace, to check the outbursts of passion, and
to bring to reason those excited men who were dishonoring by their
violence the temple of the Lord. Gradually feeling calmed down, speech
became less violent, swords were returned to their scabbards, and
the storm was laid. The friends of Calvin accompanied and conducted
him safe and sound to his abode, which was not far off. ‘And in the
evening, at Rive,’ says the syndic Rozet, ‘a disturbance broke out
against Calvin. Swords were drawn; but it was all quelled.’

[Sidenote: DISTURBANCE AT RIVE.]

The same day, after the services, the council met to deliberate on
the occurrences of the day. Twelve members were present, and these
were fully determined to punish, not the factious, but the reformers.
Desirous that their resolutions should be passed by the highest
authorities of the state, they decreed that the Council of the Two
Hundred should assemble the next day, and the general council on the
following day. They could hardly proceed more speedily.

On April 22 the syndics set forth the facts before the Two Hundred,
dwelling particularly on the subject of the bread, although the
ministers had stated that that question had nothing to do with their
resolution. The _bread_ seemed, therefore, to be merely used as a
pretext. The syndics inquired of the Two Hundred whether they wished
to adopt the ritual used at Berne. They replied in the affirmative.
We have seen that the dominant party had obtained a majority in this
council, and by what means they did so. The syndics next complained
that the ministers had preached on Easter Day, although the magistrate
had forbidden it, and they inquired whether they ought not to be
committed to prison. The Two Hundred would not hear of imprisonment;
but, with no less severity, they resolved to interdict the three
ministers, Calvin, Farel, and Courault, from occupying the pulpit in
the churches of the republic, and to order them to leave the city
immediately upon the appointment of their successors. It is remarkable
that, according to the Registers of the council, no mention was made
either of the charges of licentiousness and blasphemy which Farel
and Calvin had made in the pulpit, or of the refusal to celebrate
the supper which had been the consequence. It is easy, however, to
understand this silence. Those charges, were, undoubtedly, the most
important fact in the conflict, and the magistrates, in omitting
them, were straining at the gnat and swallowing the camel. Calvin
said subsequently, but not with reference to this special instance,
‘Hypocrites, while they do not hesitate to give themselves up to
indulgence in the grossest vices, are all the more austere and rigorous
in matters which are of comparatively slight importance; and while
they make pretence in that way of humbling themselves before God, they
proudly insult him to his face.’[639] Licentiousness and blasphemy were
very unpleasant topics, and on them the council was not at all inclined
to dwell. Besides, had these grievances been spoken of, there must have
been an investigation, evidence must have been taken, and witnesses
called; and all this would have been very troublesome, and have taken a
long time. Even if the government had commenced proceedings against the
pastors, to punish them for making those charges, it is very doubtful
whether they would have gained their cause, at least in the judgment
of impartial men. It was a far more simple and expeditious plan to
insist on this single fact, that preaching had been prohibited to the
ministers, and that nevertheless they had preached. This required no
proof, for all the town had seen and heard them. It is quite evident
that it was on this ground they were punished. The council stood on its
right, but it was assuredly a case to which the saying applies, _Summum
jus summa injuria_.[640]

[Sidenote: DENIAL OF JUSTICE.]

After these disorders, these stormy scenes, and the banishment of the
reformers, what was likely to happen? The bond of religion, so powerful
to keep in check criminal desires and actions, being once broken,
would not confusion, already so great, overrun the unhappy city? Would
not the evangelical faith be trampled under foot? Should we not find
Protestants themselves willing to join the mass with the Gospel?
Would not Rome conspire to reintroduce in Geneva ‘the old religion’?
Would not political independence itself be endangered? Would not the
enemies of the Reformation attempt to make some compact with Savoy,
and would not Berne itself, to whose influence Calvin seemed to be
sacrificed, imperil the Genevese liberties? These fears, alas, were
only too well founded! Calvin, who had so rigorously resisted Farel
when the latter pressed him to settle at Geneva, could not now make up
his mind to abandon the place. He wished to remain there to contend
with all his might against the dangers which he saw besetting the
city. ‘We perceived very clearly,’ he said, ‘that in this extremity,
the safety of the Church required that she should not be deprived of
her leaders. We therefore labored to retain our ministry as if it
had been a struggle for our own existence.’[641] Calvin was anxious
at all cost to prevent any overturn or convulsion in the Church and
in the State. He felt the necessity of enlightening the people, of
making them understand the importance of moral conduct, Christian
faith, and cordial union. ‘It appeared to him,’ said he, ‘far easier
to uphold the Church at the moment when she was ready to fall, than
to re-establish her when once she had fallen, and was as good as
lost.’[642] He therefore claimed, and claimed instantly, to be allowed
to give an account of his reasons to the general council. He would
explain everything, and the right side would win. It is unjust to deny
a man accused the opportunity of setting forth the reasons of his
conduct. But all was fruitless. Were the syndics afraid that Calvin
would convince the people, or that the people would insult Calvin? We
cannot decide the point. However it might be, they refused him what
was due to him. It was a denial of justice. They preferred to condemn
him without a hearing. Neither his own representations nor those of his
colleagues were of any avail. Party spirit went so far as to close the
mouth of the most eloquent, the most profound, the most learned, the
most sincere, and the most able man of the age.[643]

The next day, April 23, the general council met in the cloisters of St.
Peter’s to decide the fate of the reformers without having heard them.

   Le pire des états, c’est l’état populaire,--

said great men of the seventeenth century.[644] We think
otherwise in the nineteenth. It is nevertheless true that the people
frequently disappoint the expectation formed of them, and deceive
themselves. Every age has presented terrible examples of this. The
people allow themselves to be easily influenced, and they rush headlong
in the footsteps of those whom they have chosen for guides. This was
what took place at Geneva. The syndics inquired of the people whether
they wished to make use of unleavened bread at the supper, as was done
at Berne, ‘without further dispute.’ The majority was in favor of
unleavened bread, although they probably did not very clearly know what
it meant. The syndics then informed the general council ‘that Farel,
Calvin, and their colleagues had refused to obey the command of the
magistrate; and inquired whether they would dismiss them or not.’ The
‘greatest voice,’ that of the majority of the people, in accordance
with the resolution of the Little and the Great Councils, determined
that they must leave the city within the next three days. ‘Thus was
it ordered, the greater number in the council overcoming the better
part.’[645] Such a course adopted against the most eminent men at that
time in Geneva, the only ones whose names have come down to posterity,
and carried out without giving them a hearing, was one of those violent
measures to which bad governments sometimes have recourse--a _coup
d’état_.

[Sidenote: ORDER OF EXPULSION.]

Further, this same council deposed the secretary who had read the
articles of reformation. This secretary was Claude Rozet, who had
received the oath to the confession of faith on the famous day of July
29, 1537. While banishing the three ministers, they wished to inflict
a blow on at least one layman, and they made choice of the man who,
in his official capacity, had established in Geneva the _articles of
reformation_.[646]

Orders were given to make known to the reformers without delay the
decree of the people, and the head usher was appointed, without further
ceremony, to discharge that office. This man, having reached Calvin’s
house, told him that he was enjoined by decree of the general council
‘to preach no more in the town, and to take his departure within the
next three days.’[647] The reformer calmly made answer, ‘If we had
served men, we should certainly be ill repaid; but happily for us we
serve a greater master, who pays servants even what he does not owe
them.’[648] The usher went next to Farel’s house. His reply to the
announcement was, ‘Well and good; it is well, it is from God.’ In
these words of the reformers there is a peace, firmness, and grandeur
of soul which immediately strike those who read them, which some
historians have called heroic,[649] and which no one has a right to
call feigned.[650] Meanwhile the council was busied with other matters.

The sorrow of Calvin, however, was deep. Feeling how great had been the
goodness of God to him, he desired to be grateful for it. ‘Assuredly,’
he said, ‘no small honor has been conferred on us, in that a leader so
mighty--Jesus Christ--has placed us in the ranks of his servants. We
are therefore the most unthankful of men if we do not devote ourselves
entirely to his service.’[651] He had devoted himself to that work,
and the voice of conscience told him that he must give account of
every soul lost. Successes had from time to time gladdened his soul.
‘Nevertheless,’ he said with sadness and alarm after his banishment,
‘seditions occurred in the town, one after another, which caused us
grief and agitation of no light order. And however timid, weak, and
spiritless I confess myself to be by nature, I had, nevertheless, from
the first beginnings to bear up against those impetuous waves.[652] I
cannot express what trouble and distress filled my heart night and day;
and every time that I think of it I still inwardly tremble.’ It was not
only the recollection of the past that was grievous, but still more the
prospect of the future; of the evils which might fall on Geneva, and of
the great injury which might be done to the Reformation if the torch,
which ought to cast its rays all around on France, on Italy, and on
other lands, should be miserably extinguished. This was burden enough
to weigh down the strongest soul.

On April 25th Courault was set at liberty, and on the following day,
probably, the three pastors quitted Geneva.

[Sidenote: A PREDICTION OF BONIVARD.]

[Sidenote: JOY AND GRIEF.]

Thus was fulfilled a prophecy of Bonivard, uttered ten years before. It
will be remembered that in 1528 some of the Genevese, who were desirous
of the Reformation only that they might get rid of the priests, with
their vices and their superstitions, having declared to the prior
of the depraved ecclesiastics of St. Victor that they wished to put
in their place ministers of the Gospel who would introduce a true
Christian Reformation, Bonivard replied to them, ‘If you wish to reform
others, ought you not in the first place to reform yourselves? Animals
that live on the same meat naturally hate one another. It is just the
same with us. We are unchaste; so are you. We are drunkards; you are
the same. We are swearers, blasphemers; so are you. You want to drive
us away, you say, to put Lutheran ministers in our place.... Gentlemen,
take great care what you undertake to do. According to their doctrine,
a man will be prohibited from gaming and from giving himself up to
debauchery, and that under a heavy penalty. How that will vex you! You
will not have had them for two years before you will regret us.’[653]
Bonivard spoke candidly and even rudely, but his words fully confirm
the testimony and the complaints of Calvin, of Farel, and of Rozet.
It is all true, even to the time fixed by the prior--_not two years_.
Farel and Calvin undoubtedly showed themselves in this business subject
to human weaknesses. As they were both men of strong character, they
easily stimulated each other to an inflexibility to which they were
naturally inclined. Calvin himself tells us that the prudent Bucer,
at a later period, wished that they should not live together, lest
the influence which they had over each other should be hurtful to
them.[654] They have said themselves that they might have displayed
more gentleness. But it is impossible not to acknowledge that they did
what fidelity to the Gospel demanded of them. The question about the
bread was a little pennant raised by the councils, in opposition to
the great evangelical banner courageously borne by Calvin and Farel.
The two classes of combatants in this warm affair were representatives
of two systems which not only bore no resemblance to each other but
were diametrically opposed. If the reformers had given way, the great
cause of religion and of morals would have been injured, the dignity
of their ministry lowered, and their activity for the extension of
the kingdom of God in Geneva fettered, perhaps rendered impossible.
Their compliance in such a case would have been not only blameworthy,
it would have been blamed. It was for them the question of ‘To be or
not to be.’ They were bound to strive to win the victory; and if they
failed to conquer, then they were bound to suffer as witnesses to the
rejected truth. They had neglected no means of scaling the citadel,
and of planting on it their noble flag. They had failed, and it only
remained for them to retreat, conquered and yet in reality conquerors;
for they had not drawn back one step in the battle, and had thus
prepared the day of triumph. Leaving behind them the city, with its
tumult, its menaces, insults, and deeds of violence, Farel and Calvin
set out for Berne. It was at the end of April. As they passed along
the shores of the lake in the midst of the beautiful and peaceful
scenes of nature, they felt greatly relieved. Escaped from those narrow
walls within which their hearts had been torn with grief and broken
with sadness, they once more breathed freely. A pure and keen air was
around them instead of that heavy and thick atmosphere, and it gave
them new life. ‘When, on occasion of certain troubles, I was driven
away,’ said Calvin, ‘I did not find in myself such magnanimity as not
to rejoice more than was meet--that then and by that means I was at
liberty.’[655] There was in him, however, no murmuring, no bitterness.
He had learnt many lessons in the midst of that agitation, especially
that of self-renunciation. ‘As soon as one becomes a self-seeker,’ he
said at that period, ‘contests begin: the true principle of action
for a soldier is to lay aside all pride, and to depend entirely on
the will of his chief.’[656] The will of his chief was that he should
quit Geneva, and he quitted it; in this very dependence realizing the
highest independence. Stripped and wounded, like the man who went
down to Jericho, he felt the Lord near him, who bound up his wounds
and poured in oil and wine. ‘Let us remember,’ said he further, ‘that
declaration of Jesus Christ, that no one can inflict a wound on one of
his little ones but he regards it as inflicted on himself.’[657] Then
glancing towards the friends to whom they were going, ‘We have turned
towards you, brethren,’ said he, ‘towards you who have been set to feed
the churches of Christ, under the influence of the Holy Spirit. Ah! if
it be under the guidance of the same prince, against the same enemy,
in the same war, and in the same camp that we fight, shall we not be
greatly stimulated in our endeavor after agreement and harmony?’[658]
He did not lose courage even with respect to the Reformation. ‘The
Church,’ he said, ‘is not wearied, distressed, or overthrown by
these struggles and fightings; on the contrary, she derives strength
from them, she begins to flourish, she is consolidated by new
developments.’[659] Such, indeed, was the fruit borne by this great
trial. ‘Events have shown,’ said Theodore Beza, ‘that the providence
of God appointed these dispensations, to the end that his servant, by
means of various experience, might be fitted for greater things; and
that while seditious men destroy themselves by their own violence, the
Church of Geneva might be purified from all stains.’[660]

Poor blind Courault did not feel strong enough to follow his two
colleagues, and therefore took refuge with Fabri, who was pastor at
Thonon, on the lake of Geneva.




                             CHAPTER XII.

  GREAT CONFUSION IN GENEVA.--THE COUNCIL OF BERNE MAKES A FRUITLESS
                             INTERVENTION.

                         (END OF APRIL, 1538.)


Meanwhile, the friends of the Gospel in Geneva had received a very
severe blow, which had fallen on them in an unexpected way. Many were
plunged into excessive grief; some lost all hope of ever seeing the
Gospel honored in that turbulent city. Some mourned silently, others
spoke their grief aloud. The most pious of them undoubtedly expected
from the faithfulness of God that restoration of faith, order, and
prosperity for which they longed so ardently. But ‘all good men,’ says
Beza, ‘saw with great pain their three pastors, in obedience to the
edict of banishment,’[661] depart from that town to which they had
desired to do so much good; and with regretful eyes, or with tender
thoughts, they followed them as if they could not part with them.

[Sidenote: GREAT CONFUSION IN GENEVA.]

The vulgar and mischievous demonstrations by which the most lawless
part of the population celebrated its triumph still further aggravated
the grief of serious men. The discomfiture of the pastors was laughed
at and turned into ridicule. Professional jesters have almost all a
false and superficial wit, and in every country it rains insects of
this kind.[662] They were not wanting at Geneva. We do not know whether
they went on the stage, but they played in masquerades. Large bodies of
these jesters were seen parading the streets, laughing, brawling, and
making disturbances. One of them, and he was the principal personage,
was holding a fryingpan by its long handle; and in the fryingpan were
lamp-wicks, which were called in the patois of the country _farets_.
Those who surrounded this standard-bearer exclaimed that they had
fricasseed _Farel_ (and his colleagues with him) like chickens or
turnips which are cut in pieces and then cooked in a stewpan. These
poor wretches were at bottom right: the ministers had in fact been
burned over a slow fire. _Bons mots_ and sarcasms gave a relish to this
strange dish; and there were persons in those days who would have been
glad to see the ministers who left Geneva ‘fall out of the fryingpan
into the fire’--from one state of vexation into another still worse.
Insults and derision were showered from all quarters. ‘Processions
of this sort usually end in debauchery. The citizens took license,’
says Rozet, ‘for impurity, dancing, games, and drunkenness.’ ‘Nothing
was talked of but masquerades, gallantries, and excesses in wine and
good cheer.’[663] Thus did the mass of the population celebrate the
departure of the pastors. ‘The wicked travaileth with iniquity, and
hath conceived mischief, and brought forth falsehood.’

As for the members of the councils, they let things take their course.
If they did issue any proclamation for the purpose of repressing these
disorders, little attention was paid to it. Besides, they did not
insist on its being obeyed. They attempted, however, to establish a
Church of some kind. The minister, Henri de la Mare, had not dared,
in spite of the order which he had received, to preach and administer
the supper on Easter Day, for fear of offending Farel and Calvin.
But, like the former superior of the Franciscans Jacques Bernard,
he had abstained from joining in their protest. These two men were
intrusted by the council with the functions of the three banished
ministers. At the same time the lords of Berne were requested to send
the ministers Marcourt and Morand, who did not come till afterwards.
The magistrates also ordered the restoration of the baptismal fonts
which had been taken down, and which were thenceforth to be used at
the baptism of children. Then they had proclamation made, with sound
of trumpet, that everyone would have to conform to what had been
decreed touching the supper, baptism, festivals, etc. But De la Mare
and Bernard were not men powerful enough to fill the place of Farel
and Calvin. They were far from enjoying high consideration, and were
frequently exposed to the criticism and even to the rebukes of their
hearers. Porral especially made loud complaint of their preaching. The
council took their part; and one Groli having accused Bernard of not
preaching according to the Word of God, the critic was condemned ‘to
beg for mercy at the hands of God and of the law, _with both knees on
the ground_.’ Had this happened in the time of Calvin, it would have
been a very godsend for those who delight in slandering that great
man; but the punishment was inflicted by his adversaries on one of
his partisans. The question, however, remains ever the same; and this
act of compulsion in the sphere of religious opinion was even more
censurable because it was the act of the very men who had driven away
the reformers for having attempted to infringe on their liberty. There
were, however, some cases more quietly settled. An influential citizen,
the former syndic Porral, having also criticised the preachers, the
council did nothing more than threaten him with its _indignation_; he
had not _to go down on his knees and beg for mercy_.

[Sidenote: THE REFORMERS AT BERNE.]

The exile of the two great reformers and this lamentable state of
things, which rejoiced the men of the Romish party, everywhere filled
the friends of the Reformation with sorrow. They wept over ‘the great
joy of the Pharisees and of the enemies of God’s holy name.’ There were
groans, prayers, and exclamations. ‘How is it that this town, which the
Son of God had chosen as his abode and his sanctuary, was nevertheless
as deeply sunk in its pollutions as before, just as if no single
drop of God’s grace had ever fallen upon it?’[664] People thought
of Capernaum, which was at first lifted up to heaven and then cast
down to hell! Calvin perceived that the causes which had led to his
exile endangered not only the progress but the very existence of the
Reformation. Terrified at the peril, he was resolved to do his utmost
to prevent such a calamity.

   Où le danger est grand, c’est là que je m’efforce.

Will not the Churches and even the States of Switzerland sympathize
in their trials? Will they not help them to save Geneva? If Roman
Catholicism were reëstablished there and if by that means Savoy should
become predominant, the Reformation in Berne and the other cantons
would be more or less menaced, and the Pays de Vaud might return to
its former lords. Calvin, assuredly, might have elsewhere a more
peaceful and comfortable life than at Geneva; but he had decided to
‘lose his life,’ and had given it up for God and his kingdom. This
town, in which he hoped to raise the standard of the Gospel, might have
become one day a fortress whose formidable front would have repelled
the combined attacks of the enemy. And now he has to abandon it. He
hastened to Berne, where he expected to obtain assistance, as formerly
the Bertheliers and the Besançon Hugh had done, when threatened by the
forces of Savoy.

[Sidenote: THE COUNCIL OF BERNE.]

The arrival of the two reformers created a sensation in that town. At
the sight of that Farel whose labors in French Switzerland had been
for ten years crowned with such signal success; of that Calvin who
was already hailed as a master-spirit; of those two men banished,
driven away, having no refuge, men’s minds were struck and their
hearts touched. The Bernese magistrates themselves had not anticipated
measures so extreme. Admitted to the council April 27, the reformers
said,--‘We have been falsely accused. The Genevese (_Messieurs de
Genève_) have brought forward two charges: the one that we have
rebelled against their commands, and the other that we have refused
to conform to the ceremonies in use at Berne. These accusations are
both false; for we have done all that we could to obey them, and never
did we directly refuse such conformity, but on the other hand we have
rather protested our willingness to consider in what manner it could
best be arranged for the edification of the church. Further, it is
evident that these accusations are a mere cloak, for these gentlemen
were prepared to consent that this affair of ritual should be postponed
till the assembly at Zurich, on condition that we would consent to
our colleague Courault being deprived of his office as preacher. But
to this, as contrary to the express word of Scripture, we refused to
agree. On Easter Day we protested that if we did not administer the
supper it was not on account of the unleavened bread, the use of which
is in itself a matter of indifference, but for fear of profaning a
mystery so holy,--unless the people were better disposed. The reason
we gave was this,--the disorders and abominations prevailing at this
time in the town, as well execrable blasphemies and mockings of God and
of his Gospel, as disturbances, sects, and divisions. In public, and
unrepressed, a thousand derisive speeches are uttered against the Word
of God and even against the supper. And, more than that, the members
of the council have all along refused us leave to state our reasons;
and, without hearing us, they have stirred up against us both the Two
Hundred and the people, making charges against us which are not true
either in God’s sight or in the sight of men. By acting thus they show
plainly that they are only seeking for slanders and scandals to defame
the Gospel. And it is a fact that, six months ago, there was a rumor
at Lyons and at other places in France of such a nature that some
merchants were desirous of selling goods for large sums _payable when
we should be expelled_!... From this it appears that there are secret
intrigues of long standing. Likewise they are not content with loading
us with ignominy, but they have several times exclaimed that we should
be thrown into the Rhone.’ The reformers having thus spoken handed in a
memoir in which the same grievances were set forth.[665]

This discourse was severe; but the evil was great. It is useless to
deny it; the evidence is too positive. All the people, indeed, were
not guilty of these disorders and mockeries; but it happened then, as
it too often happens, that the agitators took the upper hand and good
men held their peace. We must also observe what Calvin said, that he
feared a profanation of the mystery of the supper, _unless the people
were better disposed_. He allows, therefore, a better disposition of
the people; he desires it; and then, he is certainly ready to celebrate
the sacred feast. As to his assertion that his colleagues and he
_had done all that in them lay_ to obey the magistrates, he indicates
clearly thereby that something _did not lie in their power_; to wit,
to act against their conscience and the command of God. Many in their
own time blamed them for this; but who now will make it a matter of
reproach? The most strenuous upholders of the union of church and state
say themselves, ‘That no state authority ought to interfere with any
man’s religious belief. If such a principle were really involved in
the maintenance of an established church, I should probably have been
found on the other side.’[666] No man, in our days, will censure the
reformers. In maintaining the independence of the faith, they did what
they were bound to do.

The council of Berne, which was not swayed by passion, like that of
Geneva, saw clearly into these matters, and was impressed with a sense
of the danger which was impending over their allies. Without loss of
time, they wrote the same day to their ‘singular good friends and
loyal fellow-citizens’: ‘Masters G. Farel and Calvin have this day
appeared before us and made the complaints comprised in the enclosed
schedule. We heard them with much sorrow of heart, for if these things
have actually taken place, they cause great offence and will turn _to
the dishonor of the Christian religion_. For this cause we earnestly
beg you, and in brotherly affection admonish and require you, to
abate the severity with which you deal with Farel and Calvin, for the
love of us and to avoid scandal. What we wrote touching conformity in
matters of ceremonial, we wrote from affection and not by any means
to constrain you. But you must know _that the troubles which exist at
the present time in your town, and the rigorous treatment which you
adopt towards your preachers, have been very offensive to us, and
that our enemies are greatly rejoiced at it_. Herein you will do us
a most welcome favor.’[667] This was the view of the lords of Berne,
themselves opponents of Calvin; and they might have a grudge against
him, particularly in this business, on the subject of unleavened bread.
But their views were loftier, wiser, and more profoundly religious and
politic than those of Richardet and his friends.

[Sidenote: REPLY OF THE GENEVESE COUNCIL.]

On receiving this letter the council of Geneva was still more excited
than that of Berne had been. The angry feelings which actuated its
members and which had led them to banish the reformers were not yet
soothed; and, as it has been remarked, their reply was of such a nature
as was to be expected from men dominated by passion.[668] They wrote
to Berne that they considered ‘very strange’ the complaints which were
sent to them; that they ‘could not imagine how Farel and Calvin were
so bold as to make untrue statements to their Excellencies; that there
was no great discord in their town, for on the previous Sunday the
supper had been observed, according to their own ceremonial, by a great
number of people, all of one mind.’ Which amounted to this--that the
pastors having been driven away without a hearing, their hearers being
intimidated, and the party opposed to the Gospel triumphant, uniformity
prevailed by means of violence and of fear. This is, indeed, the usual
result of a _coup d’état_.




                             CHAPTER XIII.

     SYNOD OF ZURICH.--THE BERNESE AMBASSADORS CONDUCT CALVIN BACK
                 TO GENEVA.--HE CANNOT ENTER THE TOWN.

                  (END OF APRIL TO END OF MAY, 1538.)


[Sidenote: FAREL AND CALVIN AT ZURICH.]

Farel and Calvin did not allow themselves to hesitate by reason of the
obduracy of their enemies. They were determined to do all they could
to save the Church and likewise the town of Geneva from the calamities
which, in the opinion of good men in Switzerland, must certainly fall
upon them. The synod of the reformed Churches of this country, to the
decision of which they had appealed, was now sitting at Zurich. They
went thither without delay, to inform the assembly of the important
events which had taken place at Geneva, and to claim its mediation. The
deputies of Basel, Berne, Schaffhausen, St. Gall, Glaris, Mulhausen,
and Bienne, in conjunction with the doctors of Zurich, constituted the
assembly, which sat from April 29 to May 3. Bucer and Capito had also
come from Strasburg to be present at it. The principal business of the
synod was the union with Luther, who at that time showed a conciliatory
disposition. All the members, except Kunz, the Bernese deputy, received
the two exiles with true Christian cordiality. It appears that Farel
and Calvin found relief and relaxation in this meeting of brethren.
From their life at Geneva, constantly in the presence of violent
adversaries, they had probably experienced a kind of moral tension. But
the loyal affection of the Swiss allowed their minds to unbend, and
their souls expanded in the sunshine of charity. After being engaged
on matters relating to the _Concordia_ of Wittenberg, the synod passed
on to the subject of rites, and decided that with respect to them the
Churches ought to retain full liberty--a resolution favorable to Calvin
and Farel. After settling this point, the synod took into consideration
the state of Geneva. Calvin laid before it the divisions and troubles
which afflicted the Church, the forlorn condition to which the good
Christians were reduced, and the dangers to which the Reformation was
there exposed. He displayed no obstinacy with respect to subordinate
points, but immovable firmness on those which he believed to be
indispensable to the prosperity of Geneva. He readily assented to the
use of baptismal fonts; and also, he added, the introduction ‘into
our Church of unleavened bread; but,’ said he, ‘we desire to request
of the Bernese that this bread should be broken.’[669] The act of
_breaking bread_, according to the institution and the practice of the
apostles, appeared to him essential to the symbol which was intended to
commemorate the body of the Lord offered in sacrifice. He felt somewhat
perplexed about the question of the festivals; but he gave his consent
to four of them, on condition that any persons who might desire it
should be at liberty to work after the service. He was anxious not to
open the door to the uproar and licentiousness which characterize the
Roman populations during the latter part of those festival days.[670]
He continued: ‘If there be any thought of reëstablishing us at Geneva,
we demand first of all that we should be allowed to clear ourselves
of the calumnies which have been heaped on us. We have been condemned
unheard, and that,’ said he, ‘is an inhuman, a barbarous proceeding,
not to be tolerated.[671] Next, it will be essential to establish
discipline, for want of which all that we may restore would soon be
overthrown. We demand that the town should be divided into parishes,
for no order is possible in the church unless the flock be near its
pastor, and the pastor near his flock. We demand that a seasonable use
of excommunication should be allowed; and that, for this purpose, the
council should select in the several quarters of the town upright and
wise men to whom, by common consent, its control should be intrusted.
We demand that in the institution of pastors legitimate order should
be maintained, and that the authority of the magistrate should not
supersede the laying-on of hands, which ministers ought to receive. We
demand a more frequent administration of the supper; that it should be
celebrated, if not according to the custom of the early Church,[672]
at least once a month. We demand that with the public preaching should
be joined the singing of psalms. Finally, we demand that, as our own
townsmen bring forward the example of the countries which are subject
to Berne in justification of lascivious songs and dances,[673] the
Bernese should be entreated to put an end to such profligacy in their
own states, in order that our people may not take advantage of it to
justify themselves in similar excesses.’

[Sidenote: THEIR MODERATION.]

The above articles, fourteen in number, were in Calvin’s handwriting,
but they were read to the synod by Bucer.[674] Calvin and Farel were
probably unwilling to put themselves too forward, and preferred to have
the question settled on its merits, independently of their personal
leaning; and they selected the most moderate of the theologians of
the period to be its exponent. Calvin was not a man to exalt himself
in the feeling of his own righteousness; he knew by experience that
‘in many ways we offend all.’ ‘We know,’ he said afterwards to Farel,
when speaking to him of what had just taken place, ‘we know that
our adversaries cannot calumniate us to any further extent than God
permits, and we know the end which He has in view in permitting it at
all. Let us therefore humble ourselves; unless we choose to contend
with God because He humbles us;[675] but let us not cease to wait on
Him. “The crown of pride, the drunkards of Ephraim, shall be trodden
under foot,” said the prophet (Isaiah xxviii. 3). Let us acknowledge
before God, and before his people, that it is to some extent owing to
our incompetency, indolence, carelessness, and mistakes that the Church
committed to our care has fallen into so lamentable a condition. But
let us also maintain, as it is our duty to do, our own innocence and
purity against those who by their fraud, malignity and wickedness have
certainly caused this ruin.’[676] Calvin, in charging himself with
indolence, assuredly went too far. But it was not to his colleague only
that he spoke in this way; he did not hesitate to express the same
views before the synod. While depicting the dangers of Geneva, ‘the
destruction which seemed to threaten’ the edifice reared by Farel and
himself, ‘We openly acknowledge,’ he said to the deputies of the Swiss
Churches assembled at Zurich, ‘that in some things we have perhaps been
too severe, and on those points we are ready to listen to reason.’[677]

The synod did not censure the reformers. It advised them, indeed,
to use ‘moderation and Christian gentleness, necessary with that
uncultivated people;’[678] but it acknowledged that, far from
displaying obstinacy in unimportant matters, the reformers in their
fourteen articles demanded only what is just, legitimate and important.
It is true that a Christian ought not to be appointed minister by the
mere decree of a council of state, but, after examination, by the
laying-on of hands of the elders or pastors. It is true that a more
frequent celebration of the Lord’s Supper was according to the Word of
God. The subject of greatest delicacy was excommunication. But could
not the Genevese commit the management of it _to upright and discreet
laymen_, elected by the councils, themselves an elected body? The good
sense of the Swiss told them that men entirely destitute of Christian
character ought not to form part of a Christian society.

[Sidenote: THE JUSTICE OF THEIR CAUSE.]

Not one of the theologians present at the synod seems to have taken
the cause of Calvin more to heart than the man who, with Melanchthon,
was perhaps the most cautious of the reformers, Capito. A man of
naturally gentle spirit, he had nevertheless displayed courage in
recalling Luther to moderation, and in doing the same afterwards with
respect to his colleague of Strasburg, Mathias Zell. He approved of
the course of Farel and Calvin; he even set himself to console them.
‘There is nothing disgraceful,’ he said to them, ‘in your banishment,
and we have no fear that it will prove hurtful to the Church. Your
enemies themselves only reproach you with too much warmth of zeal.
Unhappily, there are not wanting ministers who teach the Gospel without
discipline; who prefer to hold an office which they treat as nothing
more than an office that yields profit. This leads to license instead
of the liberty of Christ.[679] Discipline is necessary to the Churches.
Some persons fancy that what each man may do is no concern of ours;
as if Christ had not said that if a man has a hundred sheep, and only
one of them go astray he must go in search of it. What! because the
authority of the papacy has been cast off, must the power of the Word
and of the ministry be treated as likewise abolished? Some one may
say, I know enough of the Gospel; I can read; what do I want with you?
Preach to those who wish to hear you! Ah! discipline is a thing to
which our Churches are not accustomed, a thing which flesh and blood
detest. Ought we then to wonder that you have not been able, you two
alone, to reform at once a town so large?’[680]

The assembly therefore approved the fourteen articles presented by
Calvin and Farel, and then ‘declared the causes of their banishment
from Geneva to be not legitimate.’[681] In the eyes of these Swiss
Christians assembled at Zurich, these two exiles were the glory of
the Reformation; doctors whose praise was in all the Churches; two
of the prime movers in the great transformation which was being
effected in Christendom. The honor, the duty of the Christians of
Switzerland, demanded that these pious and illustrious men, victims
of passions hostile to the Gospel, should be restored to the position
in which God had set them. The synod, therefore, wrote to Geneva, and
earnestly requested measures adapted to raise the Church up again,
and particularly the recall of the pastors. At the same time, it
recommended the Bernese, and especially Kunz, to support this request;
and Kunz accepted the charge. Zurich being desirous likewise of doing
something, Bullinger wrote on the subject, May 4, to the provost de
Watteville. Farel and Calvin then returned to Berne, disposed to endure
with patience and meekness, but at the same time full of hope.[682]

A man of whose ill-will they had already had experience was soon to
disturb their joy. Kunz, who had been first a pastor at Erlenbach,
had contributed to the Reformation in the lower Siebenthal. He was,
so far as we can learn, born of a well-to-do family of peasants
of those parts,[683] and had retained a certain rusticity and
coarseness. A partisan, of energetic character, passionately earnest
for everything that concerned the cause which he had embraced, blind
and unjust towards the opposite opinions, with no kindly feeling for
his adversaries, he fell easily into the indulgence of animosities,
jealousies, and quarrels; and had sometimes as much trouble to get
on with those of his own party as to endure those who belonged to
the other side. With reference to the matter in hand, his hostility
had to his mind an excuse. If he warmly opposed Calvin and Farel,
it was because the slight interest which they felt in the question
about unleavened bread and in other analogous questions might, in
his opinion, annoy the Germans, whose indefatigable champion in
Switzerland he had constituted himself. He had appeared to share the
sentiments expressed to Calvin and Farel by the synod of Zurich, which
was unanimous in their favor. He had no wish, in the presence of so
considerable an assembly, to give way to his personal hatred. But the
reformers were to lose nothing by this reserve. He awaited them at
Berne. There Kunz would be on his own ground, and let the adversaries
of human traditions beware!

[Sidenote: HOSTILITY OF KUNZ.]

Calvin and Farel, when they reached Berne, did not find Kunz there.
They had to wait for him eight days.[684] He was at Nidau, at a meeting
of pastors before whom, forgetting the solemn promise which he had made
at Zurich,[685] he had said, ‘I have been requested to go to Geneva
to restore those exiles; but I would much rather renounce my ministry
and quit my country than assist those men who, I know, have treated
me frightfully.’ This delay, considering the present position of the
two reformers, put their patience to the proof. They waited, however,
convinced that the blame would be thrown on them if the business failed
in consequence of their departure. When at length they heard of the
arrival of Kunz, they went to his house, and found him in company with
Sebastian Meyer and Erasmus Ritter. There, in his own house, he let
himself out at his ease. He began with long complaints and finished
with violent insults.[686] Calvin and Farel, who had not anticipated
this outburst, received it, however, quietly; for they knew that if
they answered him with any sharpness, the only effect would be to throw
the hotheaded Kunz into a great fit of rage.[687] Ritter and Meyer
joined with them in the endeavor to pacify him. When he was a little
calm, he said to them, ‘I wish to know whether you ask me to interfere
in your business; for I foresee that if it should end otherwise than
as you desire, you will blame me for it.’ They assured him three times
over that they had no intention of changing anything in the mission
with which the synod had charged him and which he had accepted. But
they talked to no purpose. Kunz, who was very desirous to be freed from
that duty, went on incessantly harping on the same string. At last,
exhausted with his passion and wearied with the noise that he had made,
‘I will do,’ said he, ‘what I ought to do.’ They then parted, agreeing
to discuss the subject on the following day.

[Sidenote: HIS WRATH.]

The next day, then, at the hour appointed, Calvin and Farel went to the
Hôtel de Ville. They had to wait two hours. Then word was brought to
them that the ministers had too much business in the Consistory to be
able to attend to them. After dinner the two Genevese reformers again
presented themselves; and, the assembly having taken up the matter,
they were very much surprised to hear that the first thing to do was to
examine carefully the fourteen articles already approved by the synod
of Zurich. They suppressed the feelings which this indignity excited
in them and consented. There was hardly a syllable in the articles to
which objection was not taken;[688] and when they came to the question
of unleavened bread, Kunz lifted up his voice, and apostrophizing the
two reformers, said, ‘You have disturbed all the Churches of Germany,
which were till then at peace, by your unseasonable and passionate
innovations.’ Calvin replied that it was not they who had introduced
the use of leavened bread; that the practice existed in the early
Church, and that traces of it were found even in the papacy. But
Kunz would listen to nothing, and grew more and more violent.[689]
His colleagues, wishing to put an end to this dispute, begged that
they would pass on to the third article, which related to festivals.
Thereupon matters became much worse. Kunz did not confine himself to
loud talking; he rose violently from the table, and his whole body
shook with rage, so that his colleagues attempted in vain to restrain
him.[690] ‘It is false,’ said he, ‘that the articles have been approved
at Zurich.’ ‘On that point we appeal,’ replied Calvin, with firmness,
‘to the testimony of all who were present at the Synod.’ When Kunz had
come a little to himself, he accused the two doctors of intolerable
craft; the articles, he said, being full of exceptions. ‘We thought,
on the contrary,’ Calvin very justly replied, ‘that we gave evidence
of sincerity in thus plainly and openly making exceptions where they
ought to be made.’ The two reformers withdrew with deep feeling from
the strange scene which they had just witnessed. Two years afterwards,
Farel still wrote to his friend, ‘Every time that the recollection of
Kunz returns to my mind, I am filled with horror at that Fury who had
no consideration for the Church, but whom the devil made beside himself
with hatred against me.’[691] Kunz pretended that the two reformers
wished to withdraw, and not to keep the promise made at Zurich. Calvin,
on the contrary, said, ‘We are ready to do anything sooner than not try
all means of providing for the wants of religion, and of acquitting
ourselves of our duty towards the Church.’[692] As Kunz and his friends
declined their mission, there was no one else to take the matter in
hand but the senate of Berne.

A few days later, Farel and Calvin were received by that body. The
representations which the Bernese were to make at Geneva, in conformity
with the decisions of the synod of Zurich, could not but be very
disagreeable to those who wished to introduce the Bernese rites into
that town. Must Berne plead against Berne? Did ever any one hear of
such a thing? No state whatever voluntarily undertakes to discharge
such a duty; and least of all a state which, like Berne, had the
reputation of being positive and inflexible in its views. The council
therefore attempted to induce Calvin and Farel to renounce their
fourteen articles, but this they refused to do. They were then asked
to retire. When they were recalled the same attempt was again made,
three times over, within an hour.[693] ‘It belongs to the Church,’ they
replied, ‘to establish uniformity in a lawful manner.’ It has already
been established, said the council. ‘Yes,’ they answered, ‘but by a
handful of seditious men, who at the same time cried that we should be
thrown into the Rhone.[694] We are resolved to endure everything rather
than seem to approve the measures adopted for securing uniformity.’
Farel and Calvin could not answer otherwise: one cannot yield to evil.
The Bernese council gave way; thus displaying on this occasion an
independence and a sense of justice that were most honorable.

[Sidenote: AGITATION IN GENEVA.]

Having once more called in the reformers, the council announced to
them that two envoys from the senate should accompany them, and that
when they came within four miles of Geneva, Calvin and Farel should
stop, while the Bernese lords go on their way. The place named by the
Bernese was below the village of Genthod; this was perhaps at that time
on the frontier. The deputies of Berne were to require of the council
of Geneva the return of Farel and Calvin; and in case they obtained it
they were to conduct them into the town, and to see to it that they
were reinstated in their ministry. Farel and Calvin represented that
if this course were taken they would seem to be restored only because
they acknowledged themselves to be in the wrong, which they could not
do. They complained also that no minister formed part of the embassy.
The council, consequently, adopted a new resolution, according to
which the two reformers should immediately enter the town, and the
Bernese envoys should present to the people the fourteen articles
of Zurich, in the presence of Farel and Calvin, in order that, if
any objection should be raised, the latter might reply to it without
delay. The reformers should then set forth their cause, and, if their
justification were accepted, they should be restored to their offices.
Two ministers, Erasmus Ritter and Viret, were to accompany them. ‘We
are now setting out on our journey,’ wrote Calvin to Bullinger; ‘may
it please the Lord to prosper it. To him we look to guide us in our
goings, and it is from his wise disposal that we expect success.’[695]
The delegation set out, and was joined by Viret at Lausanne.

Meanwhile it had become known at Geneva that Calvin and Farel were
returning, under the conduct and the patronage of delegates from the
state of Berne. This news created much astonishment. What! these two
ministers were banished for having refused to adopt the ritual of
Berne, and now Berne takes them into her favor and brings them back!
Berne appreciated the grandeur of the Reformation and the worth of
the reformers. But there were some of the Genevese who could not
see beyond their own walls, and who seemed to have no apprehension
whatever of the great change which was renewing all Christendom, and
of which Calvin and Farel were two of the most illustrious agents. The
confirmation of the tidings caused a great stir in men’s minds. The
council determined to refuse the reformers permission to enter the
town, and the most violent of their adversaries resolved to oppose
their return by force. An ambush was laid at some distance from the
ramparts, and twenty gladiators, as Calvin calls them, were posted
in arms at the very gate of the city, as if the repulse of a hostile
force were intended.[696] The deputation was not more than a mile from
Geneva when a messenger of the council met them.[697] He handed to
the Bernese ambassadors a dispatch from the council, in which it was
written, ‘To prevent a scandal, do not bring back Farel and Calvin, for
it would be in violation of the decree passed by the community, and
of the will of the same.’[698] But their conscience bore them witness
that their cause was good, and they desired to get this acknowledged
on the part of those whom God had committed to their care. They were
therefore willing to pursue their journey, not suspecting what awaited
them. But the Bernese delegates, who had doubtless been informed by
the messenger of the excited state of the people, strongly urged them
to give it up. ‘We should have gone on our way calmly,’ said Calvin
to his friends, when he had heard of the violent measures taken to
stop them, ‘if the delegates had not forcibly resisted our intention;
and this saved our lives.’ The fact that their lives were in danger,
attested by Calvin in a letter addressed to Bullinger a few days after
the event, cannot be called in question. True, it is easy to invent,
more than three centuries later, contrary hypotheses; but the state of
agitation prevailing in Geneva, far from invalidating the testimony of
the reformers, confirms it.

[Sidenote: THE BERNESE EMBASSY.]

The two Bernese ambassadors, accompanied by Viret and Ritter, entered
Geneva alone, and were immediately received (May 23) by the council.
They stated that the deputies of the cantons who met recently at Zurich
had been unanimously of opinion that it was just to allow Farel,
Calvin, and Courault to re-enter the town in order to explain and
defend themselves from the accusations made against them; and that if
their justification were accepted, their restoration to their offices
could not be refused. ‘Do you not owe this mark of gratitude to them,’
they said, ‘and especially to Farel, who has undergone so much labor
and suffering for the good of this people? In short is it not essential
to deprive the enemies of the Reformation of an occasion for rejoicing,
as they would rejoice at the banishment without hope of returning of
the men who established it in Geneva?’ The council replied that it
could not accede to this demand, because the ministers had been sent
away by the decision of the Council of the Two Hundred and of the
general council; the Little Council having only required that they
should be committed to prison. In consequence of this the Council of
the Two Hundred was convoked for the next day, May 24. The attendance
was not at all numerous, only fourteen members being present, doubtless
because the meeting appeared to be a mere formality, and because
the battle had to be fought and decided in the general council. The
members present, among whom were the most thoroughgoing enemies of
the reformers, decreed that the resolutions previously taken must be
maintained; and for the rest, they referred the deputies of Berne to
the assembly of the people.[699]

On Sunday, May 26, the general council of the citizens met. Louis
Amman and his colleague, Viret and Erasmus Ritter, appeared as
advocates for the two banished ministers. Amman spoke first. He showed
the great injustice involved in the banishment of these excellent
men. They had to do with Farel, who was justly designated the apostle
of French Switzerland, and with Calvin, the greatest theologian of
the age. He earnestly requested that they should be recalled, and
that, according to the rules of equity, their justification should be
heard, for it was not usual for any man to be condemned unheard. He
reminded them of the distinguished services of Farel, of the labors
and hardships which he had undergone for the good of that people. Was
it not Farel who, in 1532, standing in the midst of the council of
priests, had seen them rush at him and knock him down with their blows,
crying, ‘Kill him! kill him!’ One of their attendants had discharged
his arquebuse at him, and he had been driven from the town with threats
of being thrown into the Rhone. Since that time to what tribulations
had he not been exposed! Was it not incumbent on the people of Geneva
to testify their gratitude to him in some other way than by exile?
Then Amman spoke of the joy which the adversaries of the Reformation,
the subjects of the pope, would feel, and did already feel, to see
Geneva banishing her reformers, and he conjured the citizens not to
give them such an occasion of triumph and exultation. Next Viret spoke,
in his own name and in the name of his colleague Ritter; and we know
how well adapted the mild eloquence of this pious pastor was to soothe
exasperated spirits. The union of the pastors and the seriousness of
the ambassador in pleading the cause of the reformers did not fail to
make an impression. A large assembly is always susceptible of wholesome
impressions: there is in it a contagion of good. Hearts were moved, and
the disposition of many was changed. It was possible for the deputies
to suppose that the battle was won. As they were not to attend the
deliberations of the general council, they went out full of hope.[700]

[Sidenote: THE GENERAL COUNCIL.]

But Kunz had spared no pains that this hope might be disappointed. It
appears that Pierre Vandel, one of the leaders of the party hostile to
the reformers, had been at Berne. Kunz had possession of the fourteen
articles proposed by Calvin and approved at Zurich, which doubtless
had been intrusted to him because the conduct of the business was
especially placed in his hands. Some expressions made use of in them
had seemed likely to irritate the people of Geneva. Kunz had placed
the articles in the hands of Vandel without the knowledge of the
council.[701] Vandel was a man of good family, and one of the most
violent opponents of the reformers. ‘I believe,’ said Bonivard, ‘that
he was possessed with a demon while yet in his mother’s womb; as is
said of St. John with regard to the Holy Spirit. He was not so tall
as a spindle when he committed homicide, not with his own hand, but
through malice. He and another man killed likewise the bastard son of
a canon. He was a great rake, a glutton and a drunkard, talking and
acting rashly in his drunken fits. His father, a highly respectable
man, had said a hundred times, “Pierre! Pierre! he will never be worth
anything; and would God that immediately after his baptism he had been
dashed against a wall, for he will bring disgrace on our house.” He was
very vainglorious, dressed himself like a nobleman, and was fond of
bragging (_usait de braveries_); for this reason his companions called
him _Bobereau_.’[702] Vandel was very proud of possessing the fourteen
articles; and when he met on his way anyone who took an interest in
the exile of the reformers, and who asked him what was likely to
happen to them, he answered boastfully, according to his wont, but
without entering further into details, ‘I have in my pocket a poison
which will be the death of them.’[703] The ambassadors of Berne were
themselves the bearers of these articles, but they had been instructed
not to read them to the people except in the presence of Calvin and
Farel, that they might have the opportunity of at once setting aside
the mischievous inferences which would be drawn from them.[704] Vandel
was at his post in the general council. Hardly had the deputies of
Berne gone out, when he rose, drew the paper from his pocket, and
began to read the articles of Zurich,[705] as an important piece of
evidence which must cause the rejection of the demand of Berne. When
he had read the document he began to comment on it, putting forward
ill-natured interpretations, and fastening especially on three points
fitted to excite hatred against the two reformers.[706] ‘See,’ said
he, ‘how, in speaking of the Church of Geneva, they dare to speak of
_our_ Church, as if it were their property. See how, in speaking of
the lords of Berne, they call them simply the Bernese, without the
honorary formula,[707] thus with the utmost arrogance putting contempt
on princes themselves. See how they aspire to tyranny, for what else
is excommunication but a tyrannical domination?’ The first two charges
were baseless and almost childish; and as to excommunication, Calvin
remarks that the general council of Geneva had allowed it, July 29,
1537, as ‘a holy and salutary proceeding among the faithful;’ and now
they were horrified at the very word. The question was constantly
arising for discussion whether the Church is not, like any other
society, a union of persons possessing certain common characteristics,
aiming at a certain object and under certain conditions, _a communion
of persons united by a like Christian faith_,[708] or whether it is a
receptacle for everything (_un tout y va_); which of all definitions
would be by far the most opposed to the word of its founder.

[Sidenote: PIERRE VANDEL.]

It had been arranged between Vandel and his friends that, when he
read or commented on the articles, they should support him with their
acclamations, in order to inflame the minds of those present.[709]
This plan succeeded. Cries of displeasure, furious and redoubled,
were soon heard; one might have thought that the harmless articles
were a statement of the blackest conspiracy. The irritation displayed
by these partisans infected the whole assembly. It is well known how
easily the crowd passes from any mood to its opposite. The lungs of a
few passionate men played the part of bellows in setting all hearts on
fire.[710] A spark was enough to kindle a conflagration. The flames
spread from place to place; nothing stood against them, at least in
appearance; and presently the assembly was in a blaze. ‘Better die,’
they shouted, ‘than hear them give us an account of the motives which
have actuated them!’[711]

As soon as order was partially restored, the first syndic, Richardet,
a hot-tempered man, as we know, put to the vote the demand made by
the ambassadors of Berne; or rather, taking a less regular but more
artful course, proposed the rejection of the demand. ‘Let all those,’
he said, ‘who wish that Farel, Calvin, and Courault should not enter
the town, hold up their hands.’ The secretary of the council said that
almost all hands were held up. This secretary was Ruffi, who had been
elected in the place of Claude Rozet on the very day of the banishment
of the reformers. His partiality was manifest in the fact that he wrote
at the same time that the fourteen articles contained some untruths;
untruths which the passionate Vandel himself had not been able to
detect. It was a piece of gratuitous falsehood, and imputations of
that kind do not inspire much confidence in anything that Ruffi might
report. After the voting, the first syndic requested that those who
wished the preachers to be readmitted to the town and to be heard
should hold up their hands. ‘A few were raised,’ said Michel Rozet, ‘to
signify that they wished for the ministers.’ The secretary named two
or three of them, amongst others Chautemps, in whose house Olivétan, a
kinsman of Calvin, had lived; but he added, ‘and certain others, few in
number.’ Timid men, in the presence of the storm which threatened to
break out, thought it prudent to be silent; some courage was required
to face it. In fact, at the mere sight of these few hands raised, a
transport of spite and wrath broke out; they could not endure an act of
independence, which was at the same time, with many there, an act of
respect for the reformers and the Reformation. _The rage was so great_,
says Rozet, _that the first two were compelled to fly_. Many pursued
them; some drew their swords; others, ‘glancing at them fiercely,’
cried out, _Kill them! kill them!_ ‘The majority of votes,’ say the
Registers, ‘decided that the preachers should not again be admitted
into the town.’ The people of Geneva thus adopted a resolution which,
if they had not repented of it, would have prevented light going forth
from that city, and would have thrown an obstacle in the way of its
greatness.[712]

Thus was the matter decided. _Alea jacta est._ The powerful party
which, in their contest with the pope, the bishop, and the princes
of Savoy, had taken for their flag liberty and the truth, and had
transformed Geneva into an evangelical republic, had quarrelled after
their victory, as very commonly happens, and those who did not wish for
the Gospel had remained conquerors. But the citizens, _few in number_,
who had made their voice heard in the general council, were not the
only ones who longed for a Christian republic. This minority gradually
increased, or rather dared to show itself. It continued united,
fervent, determined, active; and to it ultimately the victory was to be
given.




                             CHAPTER XIV.

             THE BANISHED MINISTERS AND THEIR SUCCESSORS.

                            (END OF 1538.)


[Sidenote: THE REFORMERS SET OUT TO BERNE.]

The reformers set out on their journey to Berne. Calvin at length
breathed freely, but not without sadness; for while he felt himself
free, as if standing on an invigorating height, he looked on Geneva
sunk in the flats. It was in fulfilment of a sacred duty that he had
made a last effort. He had not, succeeded. ‘It is evident now from
the experiment that we have just made,’ said he, ‘that it was no
mere groundless fear that influenced us when, although pressed (at
Zurich) by the authority of the Church, we could, nevertheless, only
with great reluctance consent to reënter that labyrinth. Now we have
got clear of it. We have complied with the desire of all pious men,
although with no result, except perhaps to render the evil twofold or
threefold worse than it was before.[713] Satan exulted at Geneva and
in the whole of France on occasion of our first banishment; but this
refusal to receive us has added not a little to his presumption and
to that of his members. It is incredible with what recklessness and
insolence wicked men now give themselves up to all manner of vice;
with what effrontery they insult the servants of Christ; with what
violence they make a mock at the Gospel. This is a calamity which to
us is very painful indeed....’ Afterwards, addressing Bullinger and
all the ministers of Zurich, he said to them, ‘Entreat the Lord with
us, dearly beloved brethren, with earnest prayer, that very soon he
may arise.’[714] It is possible that the reports which reached Calvin
may have been a little exaggerated and that his own phrases may be a
little sharp; but there is no doubt that the condition of Geneva was at
this time extremely critical. ‘_There was nothing but confusion_,’ says
Rozet; ‘the citizens abandoned themselves to licentiousness, dancing,
gaming, and drinking. The finger was pointed at those who mourned over
these things; they were men marked and hated. No preaching could be
fruitful in the midst of such confusion.’[715] The syndic Gautier,
a man who was above all a champion of government, and who censured
Calvin for not acknowledging that the very foundation of every society
is subordination and obedience, duties to the civil magistrate which
are as obligatory on pastors as on other men, after examining whether
Calvin’s complaints were just, pronounced the following sentence:
‘Calvin was right so far as he had reference to the licentious lives of
his adversaries, and to their love for libertinism and independence;
but he was certainly mistaken if he considered them as enemies of God
for wishing to observe the four principal festivals, and to introduce
the use of unleavened bread.’[716] This is likewise our own opinion.

[Sidenote: CALVIN AND FAREL AT BERNE.]

When they reached Berne, Calvin and Farel found their friends in great
astonishment at what had taken place. The latter told them that if they
were not wanted at Geneva, they should stay at Berne. ‘It would be
unpardonable in you,’ they added, ‘to refuse such a call.’[717] To be
at Berne with Kunz would have been to abandon their lives to perpetual
dissension. They were in haste to be gone. However, they were anxious
to express their gratitude to the senate for its conduct towards them,
and for that purpose they requested an audience. They were put off to
the following day. Remembering all the delays of their recent sojourn,
fearing lest they should find themselves beset by claims to which they
could not yield, and believing that they had discharged their duty
to the council by the request which they had made, they departed for
Basel. They did not reach the city without encountering danger on the
way. They had to cross a river, believed to be the Aar, and one of them
was almost carried away by the swift current, which was swollen by the
rain. ‘However,’ wrote Calvin to Viret, ‘the river was more merciful
to us than men. The latter had determined, contrary to all right and
reason, to compel us to undertake this journey, even were it on foot;
but the Lord, in his compassion, preserved us from all evil.’ From the
postscript to the same letter it appears that Farel and Calvin crossed
the river on horseback. It is not known which of the two narrowly
escaped drowning. They arrived at Basel, wet through with the rain, and
half dead with fatigue.

At Basel Calvin found a valued friend, Grynæus. Already during the stay
of the two reformers at Berne he had written to them--‘I hope that
by your Christian meekness and your humility you will overcome all
your adversaries, and take away from the enemies of the Gospel every
occasion of calumniating you. Oh, that the eyes now sparkling with the
fire of Satan may be cast down, and that the passion with which men
are inflamed against your ministry may be quenched![718] Work on, work
on, my well-beloved brethren, hearts most noble and most holy (_optima
ac sanctissima pectora_); be ready for the conflict, arrayed in the
whole armor of Christian warfare, ready and willing, especially at this
time, when iniquity prevails, to lead us on with heroic fidelity. Let
us apply ourselves to the work of the Lord with unconquerable hearts.
The hatred of those who in this proceeding show themselves so worthy
of hatred will not win the day. For our part, we are of those who can
pray for our enemies, much more support and embrace them. Let not the
senseless judgment of the people, let not the foolish and futile dread
of popular opinion, disturb you in the least. Rule and protect this
Church, which threatens to fall, by your courage and your persistency.
How glorious is the function you will discharge! How solid and real the
praise which you will deserve if, completely forgetting yourselves in
this cause, you think of Jesus Christ alone!’

[Sidenote: THEIR RECEPTION.]

We can imagine how affectionately Grynæus and his friends received the
two brethren banished on account of the noble fidelity which they had
displayed. Grynæus had already invited the reformer, while he was still
at Geneva, to go to his house rather than bend under the yoke which his
enemies wished to put on him. ‘We welcome thee joyfully,’ he said to
Calvin afterwards, ‘as our brother in the Lord, and we embrace thee as
a distinguished ornament of our Church.’[719] Calvin therefore abode
with Grynæus at Basel, where the most brotherly hospitality was shown
him. Farel took up his abode in the house of the famous printer, Oporin.

Calvin and Farel bore their great trial with much patience and
meekness, forgiving their enemies and praying for them, and endeavoring
to avoid everything which might become an occasion of grief to their
brethren. Viret was very anxious to see them and to share their
tribulations. ‘Thou knowest well,’ replied Calvin to him, ‘that no
greater happiness could befall us at this moment than to talk with thee
for a short time. But the danger to which the journey would expose thee
checks our desire: thou wouldst reap more hatred from it than we should
joy.’ Thus did Calvin think of his friends before thinking of himself.
It appears, however, that Viret did see him at Basel.[720] This was
doubtless at a later period. Calvin was anxious to avoid everything
which might lead to any useless dispute. ‘I beg of thee, my dear
brother,’ he said to Farel, ‘take pains in these evil times to preserve
whatever can be tolerated. Our brethren must not so obstinately dispute
about mere ceremonies. Let us be free; but let us be the slaves of
concord and of peace.’[721] ‘What I have above all at heart,’ he said
further to him, ‘is that we may not cause new quarrels, nor be the
occasion of any strife.’

At the same time, nevertheless, one of the first things which the
reformers had done after their arrival at Basel was to give an
account of what had befallen them to their brethren of Zurich and
Strasburg. Their enemies did not cease, indeed, to pursue them with
their accusations; and those who had forced them to leave Geneva cried
out that they were schismatics, forgetting that they themselves had
compelled the two reformers to separate from their Church. Such is
party logic. Calvin, Farel, and their friends, therefore, thought
it advisable to hold a meeting at which delegates from the towns of
Zurich, Berne, Basel, Strasburg, and one of that place (_un dudit
lieu_) (probably Geneva), should attend, and at which it should
be ‘declared that they had duly and faithfully administered their
office.’[722] They did not, however, eagerly press for this. They knew
that their judge was in heaven. ‘I can do nothing,’ said Calvin, ‘but
commend the issue to the great physician, who alone can provide for it
and give it shape.’[723]

[Sidenote: CALLS AND HESITATIONS.]

If Calvin committed himself to God as to his past, he did the same as
to his future. ‘I withdraw to Basel,’ he says, in the same letter,
‘awaiting what the Lord will do with me.’ Calls were not wanting.
They wished to retain him at Basel. Toussaint desired that he should
settle at Lausanne, or in the canton of Berne, that he might there be
an example of decision and devotion. Others thought it their duty to
recommend him to the Duke of Würtemburg.[724] But Strasburg appeared
to be the place to choose. Already in November, 1536, Bucer, delighted
with the _Institution_, which had just appeared, had asked for an
interview with Calvin. ‘We will go wherever you wish for the purpose of
conferring with you on the whole doctrine of Christ.’[725] They saw each
other subsequently at Berne and at Zurich. Bucer and Capito, now that
they knew he was at liberty and staying at Basel, did not fail to press
him to come to them. At the beginning of July he went to Strasburg. ‘I
have been so earnestly entreated to come by the two chief ministers of
this town,’ he wrote on the 10th of that month, ‘that to satisfy them I
have made a journey hither.’[726] It did not at that time appear likely
to him that he was to settle there. The terrible conflicts through
which he had passed at Geneva made him view with alarm the proposal to
accept a new ministry. He recurred to his studious projects. ‘I shrink,
above all things,’ said he, ‘from reëntering on the office from which I
am delivered, considering in what perplexities I was involved from the
time when I was first engaged in it.’ He adds, ‘there are other reasons
which I can explain only by word of mouth.’ What were these? Doubtless
the too accommodating theology of the doctors of that town. Basel was
his favorite city. He returned thither, saying, ‘It is not the fault
of the Strasburgers that I am not their guest, but they have burden
enough without me.’ He might, however, have found good reasons for
accepting their invitation, for his poverty was so great that he found
it necessary to sell ‘a part of his books’ for his maintenance.[727]

The entreaties of the Strasburgers, nevertheless, became more urgent.
They wrote to Grynæus to do all he could to induce Calvin to settle at
Strasburg: only they would rather that he should come without Farel,
because they were afraid that, if the two Frenchmen were together, the
Germans would have too great difficulty in bending them to their views.
This was also the opinion of Grynæus. To give up Farel entirely was
too great a sacrifice for Calvin to make. He again declined the offer,
giving as his reason the condition which was imposed on him not to take
Farel with him.[728] ‘I await thy counsel,’ wrote Calvin to his friend;
and impelled by the warmest affection for this man of God, he adds,
‘O that I could now fly to thee! I am only held back by the strongest
motives.’

Farel was not at Basel at that moment, and was not to return thither.
The tidings of the persecutions which had fallen upon him, of his exile
and his sufferings, had grieved the people of Neuchâtel, and revived
in their hearts their old love for the man from whom they had learned
the elements of the faith. The Council of the Sixty, representatives
of the city, after calling upon the Lord, communicated to the class
of ministers the desire which they felt of inviting Farel to become
their pastor.[729] The post was, as we shall see, actually vacant.
Two councillors and two members of the class went to Basel. ‘Come,’
they said to him, ‘and complete the building of which you laid the
foundation.’ Farel, like Calvin, could not make up his mind to accept
a pastoral charge, but preferred to devote himself to study.[730] At
length, encouraged by his friends, entreated in the name of the Lord,
and ‘persuaded to it with great earnestness by the German Churches,’
he consented; but it was on condition that he should introduce in
the Church the order prescribed in the Holy Scriptures. Having once
decided, he set out suddenly for Neuchâtel, about the end of July,
‘with his customary promptitude,’ says Calvin.[731] Thenceforth Farel
and Calvin were separated; but this removal from each other did not in
any degree impair the union of their hearts nor the firmness of their
characters, whatever the moderates of Strasburg might think.

[Sidenote: FAREL CALLED TO NEUCHATEL.]

The latter once more renewed their call. Would not the ministerial
office conferred on Calvin by a Church of such high standing as that
of Strasburg be a brilliant justification which would silence evil
tongues? What good service might he not render there! The empire had
need of able theologians, and perhaps the Strasburgers desired to
have him settled among them by way of counterpoise to the powerful
personality and authority of Luther. Be that as it may, his friends
on the banks of the Rhine could not bear the thought that so powerful
a servant of God ‘should be satisfied to live in retirement without
undertaking any public office;’[732] and as he still refused, they took
steps towards inducing the Genevese to recall the reformer. If he will
not come to Strasburg, let him go to Geneva. This proceeding appears
to have had some effect on Calvin. He would go anywhere rather than
return to the city of his sorrows. The Strasburgers, finding that he
was somewhat giving way, made a fresh advance. ‘That excellent servant
of Christ, Martin Bucer,’ says Calvin, ‘addressing to me a remonstrance
and protest similar to that which Farel had previously made, called me
to another place. Alarmed by the case of Jonah, which he set before me,
I persevered still in the office of teacher.’[733] Calvin therefore
went to Strasburg in September, and began to preach in the choir of the
church of the Dominicans to the French refugees in the town, with whom
were associated other persons, some of whom understood and others did
not understand the tongue, but all of them were desirous of seeing the
face and hearing the voice of the famous exile. These refugees, it is
said, were fifteen hundred in number.

Calvin was no sooner settled at Strasburg than he heard that his
colleague, the blind old Courault, who, ‘after having fought valiantly
at Paris for the truth,’[734] had first retired to Thonon, and then
had been called as pastor to Orbe, had departed this life on October
4, and gone to God. This was a terrible blow for his loving heart. He
wrote to Farel--‘I am so dismayed at the death of Courault, that my
grief overpasses all bounds. Not one of my daily occupations is any
longer able to fix my attention, and I am incessantly returning to the
same thought. To the lamentations and pains of the day succeed the
more terrible torments of the night.’[735] This death, so unexpected,
was attributed to poison. Suspicions of that kind were very common,
and were in those unhappy times too often justified. Calvin rejected
this thought, but in spite of himself it was continually presenting
itself to his imagination.[736] He endeavored, nevertheless, to
console himself and to revive his own courage and that of Farel. ‘All
testify,’ he said to him, ‘by their grief and their regrets how highly
they esteemed his courage and his uprightness, and this is a great
consolation. For us whom the Lord leaves for a time in this world, let
us hold on in the path which he pursued until we have finished our
course. Whatever difficulties we may have to encounter, they will not
prevent us from entering into that rest which is even now his portion.’
‘When we get there,’ said he on another occasion, ‘it will be known
on which side rashness or error was. To that court I appeal from the
sentence of all the wise. There the angels of God will bear witness
which are the schismatics.’[737] He adds, ‘Only let us stand firm on
the height we have reached, which commands the field of battle, until
the kingdom of Christ, at present hidden, shall appear.’

Thus the three pastors expelled from Geneva had each found his place;
and that of the old blind minister was the best.

[Sidenote: NEW PASTORS AT GENEVA.]

It was not long before the Genevese established the institutions
to which the reformers had objected. It was decreed to reërect the
baptismal fonts which had been cast down, and to baptize children in
them, to celebrate the four festivals, and to conform to the ceremonies
agreed upon. On Whit-Sunday, which this year fell at the beginning
of June, there were only two pastors at Geneva, Henri de la Mare and
Jacques Bernard, both Genevese. The Lord’s supper was to be celebrated,
and for that purpose two ministers were needed in each church. The
council deputed two of its members to act instead of them, one at St.
Peter’s, the other at St. Gervais’.

The government exerted itself to find substitutes for the two exiles.
The states of Berne and Neuchâtel gave up to it Jean Morand, pastor
at Cully,[738] on the shores of the lake of Geneva, and Antoine
Marcourt, of Lyons, pastor of Neuchâtel, who were installed about the
end of June. The council determined to give them, considering their
age and their large families, three hundred Genevese florins;[739]
the two Genevese each had two hundred and fifty florins. We became
acquainted with Marcourt at the synod of Lausanne. He had published
several treatises on the Eucharist, on the mass; to him likewise
were attributed the famous placards of 1534, which Florimond Raemond
believes to have been the work of Farel. The governor and councils of
Neuchâtel, in resigning Marcourt to Geneva, declared, June 18, ‘that
they had always found him a man of peace, one who desired, and to the
utmost of his power maintained, peace and public tranquillity.’ This
character seems hardly like that of the author of the _Placards_, one
of the most violent writings of the sixteenth century, which were
pronounced by the Roman Catholics[740] to be filled with ‘execrable
blasphemies and horrible threats against the king,’ and which gave rise
to that bloody persecution by the Valois and the Bourbons of which
the reformed Christians were the victims for more than two centuries.
However, we must confess that pacific men are not always consistent. It
would seem that Marcourt was not so much a man of peace as the people
of Neuchâtel had said; at least if we take literally what Calvin says.
‘How our successors will demean themselves,’ he wrote on August 4 to
Farel, ‘is a point on which we can form an opinion from their first
proceedings. They break off by their irritable temper every promise of
peace, and they seem to suppose that the best thing they have to do is
to tear to pieces both in public and in private the reputation which
we enjoyed, and to make us as hateful as possible.’[741] Calvin is
especially severe, perhaps too much so, with regard to the two Genevese
ministers. There was, however, some truth in the last touch in the
picture which he drew of them for Bullinger: ‘Both of them are very
ignorant, and when they open their mouths, it is to rave. This does not
prevent them from assuming an insolent pride.’[742]

[Sidenote: ACCUSATIONS.]

These words of Calvin are rather sharp. This is doubtless explained
by his recent sorrow. Subsequently he expressed himself with more
moderation. His partisans at Geneva did the same. While the wisest
men still held their peace, the most violent did not spare their
adversaries. The two parties were very ill-disposed towards one
another, and some of those who belonged to them threw off all restraint
both in their deeds and in their words. Licentious men among the
enemies of the reformers ‘triumphed over the banished ministers,
insulted the servants of God, laughed at the Gospel, and abandoned
themselves to impurity, dancing, gaming, and drunkenness. Nothing was
talked of but masquerades, gallantries and excesses, and the services
of the church turned to the disgrace of the Reformation.’ On the other
side, the most vehement partisans of Calvin and Farel had no mercy on
the lay and ecclesiastical chiefs under whose administration these
things took place. They called the new pastors _wolves_, and the
magistrates _the unrighteous_. They murmured as they went out from
sermon, and their ill-humor was not sparing of criticism. ‘The Gospel
which is preached at present,’ said Richard after one of the services,
‘is only _the Gospel for twenty days_.’ He had no doubt that, when that
time had elapsed, the new preachers would be dismissed. For this they
sent him to prison. ‘The syndics of to-day,’ said another, ‘are of no
use but to bring back lascivious men and women into the town.’ For this
saying he was expelled from the town for a year.[743] ‘The mass is sung
in Geneva,’ said many, ‘and the people who love the Gospel are expelled
the town.’ These charges were circulated in Switzerland, and greatly
alarmed the friends of reform.

None felt these reproaches more keenly than the pastors, for they
knew that they all recoiled on themselves. On September 17 they all
appeared, the two Genevese and the two foreigners, before the council.
‘Calumniators,’ they said, ‘are spreading reports in the cantons
which are doing serious injury to the Gospel.’ They requested that
two of their number might have leave of absence to go and refute the
slanders, which inflicted a blow on the honor of the town. The request
was granted. Marcourt and Morand set out for Berne, and presented
themselves before the assembly of the pastors, in which Kunz could not
fail to support them. In fact it was resolved at this meeting ‘that
those who rose against the persons in office at Geneva were worse than
wicked men, traitors, and Jews.’ The Bernese pastors communicated
this declaration to the council, which contented itself with deciding
that if any defamers of Geneva appeared at Berne, information should
be given to the magistrates of that town. The lay authorities were
obviously less under the influence of passion than the ecclesiastics.
It appears even that the council of Berne did not place implicit
confidence in the report of the Genevese ministers, for one of their
own number was immediately after sent to Geneva to see with his own
eyes what was the real state of the Genevese Church.

The complaints made both at Geneva and in other places were well
grounded. This is proved by the proceedings of the magistrates, who,
although they were hostile to the reformers, perceived that their
own honor required them not to authorize licentiousness. It is quite
certain that people ‘went about the streets at night, uttering cries
and singing indecent songs;’ that ‘gaming, lewdness, haunting of
taverns, and drunkenness,’ were common offences; for a decree of July
19 prohibited them under a penalty of sixty sous for the first time;
and, as the evil continued, other decisions of a similar character
were taken on August 20 and October 22. It is certain that, as was
said in Switzerland, some citizens went to mass, for according to the
intolerant customs of the age, they were ordered ‘to leave the town.’
The councils were seen to be as much opposed to religious liberty as
Calvin had been. Perhaps they went even further than he would have
gone; for, on August 20, they ordered the priests who were still on
Genevese soil to go to sermon if they wished to remain there.

[Sidenote: CALVIN’S LETTER TO THE GENEVESE.]

Calvin, at Strasburg, was watching attentively what was passing at
Geneva. He heard that a certain number of Genevese kept faithfully
to the path which they had taken under his direction. Some of his
adherents cried out rather loudly, but the majority led a quiet life,
and the most decided of the latter displayed their opposition in no
other way than by absenting themselves from a form of worship which
they did not consider to be in conformity with the principles of
the Gospel. Calvin had not written to them during the first months
of his exile. He was not willing to lay himself open to the charge
of attempting to draw them over to himself. But he felt keenly that
the trials of his friends at Geneva proceeded from their supineness
in adhering to the Word of God, and that the remedy for them was in
humbling themselves before God and waiting upon Him for the remedy.
‘However the affection which he always cherished for them’ did not
permit him to remain longer silent, and on October 1 he wrote to
them a letter remarkable for the pacific, discreet, charitable, and
elevated spirit which it breathed. He addressed it, not to all the
Genevese, but to those who had received into their hearts the seed of
the divine Word, and who were still deeply affected by the blow which
had struck them in the punishment of their pastor. He named them his
brethren, _the relics of the dispersion of the Genevese church_. He
spoke of the love which he bore them. ‘I cannot refrain from writing to
you,’ said he, ‘to assure you of the affection which I always cherish
for you. Our conscience is fully persuaded before God that it is by
his call that we were at one time associated with you, and it ought
not to be in the power of men to break such a bond.’ He begs them to
forget themselves and their sufferings, to forget even the hostility
of their adversaries. ‘If we lose our time in fighting against men,’
he said, ‘thinking only of taking vengeance and getting indemnified
for the injuries which they have done us, it is doubtful whether we
can overcome them, but it is certain that we shall be overcome by the
devil. If on the contrary we resist the devices of that spiritual
enemy, there is no fear then of our not coming off conquerors. Cast
away every evil affection, be led only by zeal for God, controlled
by his Spirit and the rule of his Word.’ Calvin went further. He
showed himself severe to his friends. ‘It is easy for you to justify
yourselves before men, but your conscience will feel burdened before
God.’ He did himself what he required of others. ‘I doubt not,’ he
said, ‘that God has humbled us in order to make us acquainted with our
ignorance, our imprudence, and our other infirmities, of which I for
my part have been fully conscious, and which I have no hesitation in
confessing before the Church. However,’ he adds, ‘we did faithfully
administer our office. The Lord will cause our innocence to come forth
like the morning-star, and our righteousness to shine like the sun.’
But he endeavors chiefly to console the believers of Geneva. ‘Be not
cast down because it hath pleased the Lord to humble you for a time,
for he lifts up the humble out of the dust and takes the poor from
the dunghill. He gives the manna of joy to those who are in tears; he
gives back light to them that sit in darkness, and he restores to life
them that walk in the shadow of death. Be of good courage then, and
endure with patience the chastening of his hand, until the time that
he reveal his grace to you.’[744] It is impossible not to recognize
the wisdom and the Christian charity which have left their impress on
this letter. It is indeed a pastor that speaks. Calvin was so far from
the excessive strictness imputed to him that he wrote at the same time
to Farel--‘If we find in any Church the ministry of the Word and the
sacraments, it is better not to separate from it. It is not right even
to do so on the ground that some doctrines are not purely taught in it;
for there is hardly a Church in existence which does not retain some
traces of its former ignorance. It is sufficient for us if the doctrine
on which the Church is founded has its place there and keeps it.’[745]
Calvin held that there are some doctrines fundamental and vital,
essential to salvation; but he acknowledged that there are others on
which difference is permissible.

[Sidenote: FAREL’S LETTER TO THE GENEVESE.]

Farel likewise wrote to the Christians of Geneva. He did so even before
Calvin, in June, in August, and again in November. He expressed to
them his deep sadness. He would fain be ‘so far away that he could
hear nothing of the miserable breaking-up and dispersion of the
Church.’ He strives ‘to banish from his heart the pains, the labors
that he undertook for that town; for nothing pierces the heart like
ingratitude; to see evil rendered for good, hate for love, death and
shame in place of the life and the honor which were procured.’ He
contents himself with praying for the town and commending it to all who
are able to give it any assistance. Meanwhile he cannot help seeing
the unhappy condition in which his own friends and all the faithful of
Geneva are, deprived of their pastors, and witnessing the triumph of
their enemies. He shares largely in their troubles; they are his only
trial. ‘I should be too happy,’ he wrote to them, ‘if you were not so
unhappy.’ But at the same time he exhorts them to Christian charity
and gives evidence of it himself. ‘Cherish in your hearts no rancor,’
he said to his former flock, ‘no root of bitterness, no anger. Do not
reproach this man nor that man, but let each one reproach himself: lay
all the blame on yourselves and say nothing but good of others. Let
God’s holy will be your rule, and not _poor man_ (the natural man),
and what is in him.’ He does not hesitate to rebuke his friends. ‘You
have not obeyed God wholly, but have halted and swerved to one side and
the other.’ Then he earnestly exhorts them to repentance. ‘You, great
and small, men and women, cast yourselves humbly before God, with all
earnestness and love, beseeching his grace, and praying him to turn
away his anger from you. Yes, cast yourselves before him with sobs
and tears, with fasting and prayer, like the king of Nineveh and his
people. Cry, weep, lift up your voices; that your cry going forth from
the depths of this terrible calamity may reach the ear of God.’[746]
Thus spoke Farel and Calvin.




                              CHAPTER XV.

                         STRASBURG AND GENEVA.

                          (END OF 1538-1539.)


[Sidenote: CALVIN AT STRASBURG.]

Calvin, meanwhile, notwithstanding the melancholy which sprang from
the remembrance of his recent struggles, was happy at Strasburg. This
town, in which, as in a common centre, met the influences of Germany,
Switzerland, and France, was esteemed, next to Wittenberg, the most
important seat of the Reformation. It was called the _Antioch_ of that
epoch, in remembrance of what Antioch was in the apostolic age. Some
named it subsequently the _New Jerusalem_, and this partly because
it was ‘the hostess of the man who gave his name to Calvinism.’[747]
At the period of Calvin’s arrival, Strasburg was already the home
of several distinguished men--Capito, Bucer, Hedio, Niger, Mathias
Zell, and others besides, who shone in its Church like precious and
transparent jewels.[748] ‘What gratitude we owe you,’ they wrote to
Farel, ‘for resigning Calvin to us!’ He was a treasure for them. He
very much enjoyed their society, and this sojourn was to be beneficial
to him. Not only did the affection of Strasburg for him heal the wounds
inflicted by the hostility of Geneva, but his mind was to receive still
further development. The small city on the shores of the Leman lake
was a narrow platform on which it was not easy to move about. But on
reaching Strasburg Calvin set foot on the vast Germanic realm which
contained so many illustrious men, in which so many profound thoughts
were stirring, and in which the Reformation had already fought so
many battles and won so many victories. There were, it is true, some
opposite teachings, but it was necessary to be acquainted with them.
Strasburg, moreover, was the place in which doctrines were weighed
one against the other, and where the labor destined to conciliate
them was undertaken. At Geneva Calvin might have occupied the post
of a spectator who attempts to distinguish by means of a telescope
an action fought at a great distance. But now he was in the thick
of the battle, learnt to recognize the feeble and the strong, and
became one of the combatants, or at least one of the negotiators. His
horizon was widened, his intelligence in this vast sphere would be
enlarged, his ideas would be developed, would grow, ripen, and move
with greater freedom. He would be brought under influences to which he
was not exposed at Geneva, and which would contribute to form the great
theologian. Embracing at a glance the whole extent of the kingdom of
God, he would become familiar with its various provinces. Winds blowing
from so many and adverse regions would bring to him new reports.
There would doubtless be sometimes stormy blasts, powerful enough to
overthrow the strongest, but often also a pure and life-giving air
fitted to sanctify his Christian energy.

The theological and Christian circle which he entered at Strasburg
was in more than one way in sympathy with him. He was convinced, as
the doctors of this town were, that it was necessary not to stick at
trifling differences, but to consider Christianity in its great facts,
its great doctrines, the new life which it creates, in the great whole
on which all the reformers were agreed. All those who took their stand
on the same rock, Jesus Christ, no matter whether a little higher up
or a little lower down, ought in his view to join hand in hand. Calvin
and the theologians of Strasburg were disgusted with the theological
subtilties and the scholastic nomenclature beneath which the living
doctrine of the Gospel, especially as to the supper, was stifled. ‘Can
I in very deed believe that I receive in the holy supper the body and
the blood of the Lord, _substantialiter_, _essentialiter_, _realiter_,
_naturaliter_, _præsentialiter_, _localiter_, _corporaliter_,
_quantitative_, _qualitative_, _ubiqualiter_, _carnaliter_? The devil
has brought us all these terms from the abyss of hell. Christ said
simply, _This is my body_. If all these fantastic expressions had been
necessary, he would certainly have employed them.’ Calvin, like Zell,
the author of the above passage, found in that heap of qualifying terms
a mass of rubbish and confusion. There was, however, one difference
between the doctors of Strasburg and the doctor of Geneva. Bucer and
Capito were willing to bring union by the way of accommodation, perhaps
by the use of phrases in a double sense. The eagle of Geneva, soaring
in the higher regions, called on Christians to have but one thought
in contemplating one and the same sun, and in attaching themselves to
one and the same truth.[749]

[Sidenote: HIS SPIRITUAL JOYS.]

Another happiness awaited Calvin at Strasburg. His greatest sufferings
at Geneva had their source in that state-church, that people-church,
that shapeless community which comprised the whole nation, believers
and unbelievers, righteous men and profligates. In its place at
Strasburg he found some Christians exiled on account of their faith,
purified by their trial like gold, who had given up all for Christ,
their righteousness and their life. The mass of professing Christians
at Geneva had as it were suffocated him. Now at Strasburg he was in the
midst of brethren and sisters, and almost all of them belonged to his
own country, France. He breathed freely. The evangelical order intended
by the apostles prevailed in his Church.[750] He preached four times a
week. He met his elders and deacons once a week for the study of the
Holy Scriptures and for prayer; and some of those lay friends well
endowed by God were soon qualified to take the place of their pastor in
case of his absence, and to edify their brethren. The first supper was
celebrated in September, and it was repeated every month. How wide the
difference for Calvin between that repast at Geneva, to which men came
who drank, gamed, quarrelled, and sang indecent songs, and whom, for
all that, he had to admit to the communion of the body and the blood
of the Redeemer, and this brotherly supper at Strasburg, celebrated
in company with pious Christians, persecuted for righteousness’ sake,
whose names were written in heaven, and who drew nigh to the Lord with
devotion, as members of his family! Calvin gave all his attention to
the cure of souls. If there were any Christians who had not an adequate
acquaintance with the doctrine of salvation, he instructed them; if any
were reproached by their own conscience, cast down and in distress, he
consoled and lifted them up; if any had gone astray from the path of
righteousness, he rebuked them. He certainly met with some opposition,
especially on the part of the younger folk; but he held his ground.
While he required a pure faith and life, he protested against the
tyranny exercised by the priests in auricular confession, and declared
that no man had the right to bind the conscience of his brethren. Thus
he saw his flock thriving from day to day under his direction.[751]
‘It was at Strasburg that the first Church was organized to serve as a
model to others,’ says Raemond. A remarkable conversion distinguished
its early days. Herman of Liége, who had engaged in discussion with
Calvin at Geneva, was converted by him and joined his Church. He
embraced the doctrines which Calvin found in the Holy Scriptures, on
free will, the divinity and humanity of Christ, regeneration, and
baptism. He was in doubt only as to predestination. Calvin gained other
victories besides.

[Sidenote: VIEW OF THE LORD’S SUPPER.]

He was now not only a pastor, but also a teacher. At the beginning
of the year 1539, Capito, struck with his gifts for theological
teaching, entreated him to join that office with his pastorate.
Although he felt reluctant to do so, from his sense of the difficulty
of that ministry, he at length consented. Every day he preached in
the church of St. Nicholas, in which he taught the students of the
academy. The interpretation of the Scriptures was for him the basis
of theological science, and for his exposition he selected two of
the richest books of the New Testament--the Gospel of St. John and
the Epistle to the Romans. His plan was to search out the meaning of
the sacred writer, and to set it forth with an easy ‘brevity which
did not entail obscurity;’ and for that purpose ‘he took pains to
regulate and proportion his style.[752]’ In his view the Epistle to
the Romans was ‘a path to the understanding of the whole Scripture.’
Some doctors attended these lectures, and expressed their high
admiration.[753] He did not content himself with being at the same
time pastor and professor, he also worked diligently in his study. He
revised his _Institution_, and prepared a second edition; he recast
his _Catechism_; he composed a treatise on the Supper, of which he
sent a copy to Luther. Calvin, like Zwingli, regarded the bread and
the wine as signs, as pledges that Christ gives to the believer his
crucified body and his shed blood; that is to say, communicates to him
the expiatory virtue of his death. He taught that the believer receives
the body and the blood by faith, which is _the mouth of the soul_, and
not by the bodily mouth. But he differed from the reformer of Zurich in
that he saw in the supper a mysterious union with the glorified person
of Christ. ‘With good reason,’ he said, ‘the bread is called body,
since it not only _represents_ him, but also _presents_ him to us. We
must therefore really receive in the supper the body and the blood of
Jesus Christ, since the Lord sets forth to us therein the communion of
both. If God gave us only bread and wine, leaving behind the spiritual
truth, would it not be the case that he had instituted this mystery
on fictitious grounds?[754] This alliance is effected on our part by
faith, and on the part of God by his secret and miraculous virtue. The
Spirit of God is the bond of this participation; that is why it is
called spiritual. When Luther began his course, he appeared to say that
the bread was the body of Christ. Œcolampadius and Zwingli appeared to
leave in the supper nothing but the bare signs without their spiritual
substance. Thus Luther failed on his side, Zwingli and Œcolampadius on
their side. Nevertheless, let us not forget the grace which the Lord
gave to all of them, and the benefits which he has conferred on us by
their instrumentality.’[755]

Luther acknowledged that Calvin’s doctrine went beyond that of Zwingli,
and expressed the delight which it gave him. As early as October, 1539,
the Saxon reformer wrote to Bucer--‘Greet John Calvin respectfully,
whose book I have read with singular enjoyment.’[756] As the treatise
on the Supper appeared only in 1541, the _Institution_ must be the
book spoken of, in which the doctrine of the Eucharist was already set
forth. When the reformer of Germany read the little treatise to which
we have just referred, he said, ‘Ah, if the Swiss did the same, we
should now be at peace instead of quarrelling.’[757]

In addition to his other labors, Calvin attended the theological
debates in the universities, sometimes even presiding at them. He held
conferences with the Roman Catholic doctors, at which he defended
the evangelical theology; thereby acquiring so high a renown that a
great number of students and even of learned men came from France to
Strasburg to hear him.[758]

This man, who already occupied so important a position, was at the
same time in the most humble circumstances. Poverty was added to
his other trials. He received from the publishers of his works only
very low remuneration. He did not think that he had any right to ask
remuneration from the state or even from the Church; but he would not
have refused it if it had been spontaneously offered to him. He was
living at this time on a small sum derived partly from his paternal
inheritance and partly from the sale of his library and other property
of various kinds. But this was far short of his need, and sometimes
the payment for his lodging was a great embarrassment. He wrote to
Farel--‘I am obliged to live at my own expense, unless I were willing
to become a burden to my brethren; and my destitution is now so great
that _I do not possess a farthing_.[759] It is not, you see, so easy
for me to take care of my health as you with so much kind care counsel
me to do.’ Calvin afterwards received a salary, but too small to
suffice even for his modest wants.

[Sidenote: DEATH OF OLIVÉTAN.]

Just at the time when Calvin was gaining new friends at Strasburg, he
lost some of his oldest and most beloved ones. We have seen his grief
on hearing of the death of Courault. At the beginning of January 1539,
he received a letter from Francesca Bucyronia, wife of the physician
Sinapi, tutor to the children of the Duchess of Ferrara, informing
him that his cousin Olivétan, one of the first evangelists of Geneva,
and translator of the French version of the Bible, had just died in
that town. Calvin’s pain at this news was increased by the report
that his friend, while at Rome, had taken poison, and that of this
he died. This was a conjecture at that period commonly put forward
to account for unexpected deaths. There is little probability of its
truth. Calvin does not speak of it. He contents himself with calling
Olivétan _our friend_, and adds that the natural sorrow which he feels
must be his apology to his correspondents for his short and disjointed
letters.[760] Few men have had so many friends as Calvin. His was no
ordinary friendship; it was always felt to be deep and unchangeable.

But Calvin’s thought was at this time occupied with affection of
another kind. He believed that those who have received a new life from
Christ are called to love all those who have received the same grace;
‘to love them with that simple affection, that natural proneness,
with which relations love each other.’ It was, however, no exclusive
love that he required. ‘In bidding us begin by loving the faithful,
the Lord leads us on, by a kind of apprenticeship, to the loving of
all men without exception.’[761] But union and agreement between the
children of God was the great need of his heart. When writing to
Bullinger (March 12, 1539) he said--‘Satan, who plots the ruin of the
kingdom of Christ, sows discord between us. Let us all then have a
cordial agreement with one another, and may it be the same with all the
Churches. I clasp you in my arms, wishing you all good.’[762]

With this cordial charity Calvin maintained an indomitable courage.
Capito was given to looking at the dark sides of things: black thoughts
often hovered around him and took possession of his imagination. In
vain his faith strove to lighten the darkness; mournful forebodings
overwhelmed him, and a dull distress was often read in his countenance.
One day he protested before God and men that the Church was lost unless
prompt aid should arrive. Afterwards, when he found that the state of
things did not improve, he prayed God that he might die.[763] It was
not so with Calvin. ‘Ah,’ said he, ‘the Lord will bless us although
everything should be against us. Let us therefore try all remedies; and
if we do not find any to be efficacious, let us nevertheless persevere
as long as we have any breath of life.’[764] It is this unconquerable
steadfastness which made Calvin the great reformer.

[Sidenote: DESPOTISM AT GENEVA.]

The faith of Calvin was not to deceive him. But few voices had been
raised in his favor at Geneva in the general council of May 26, 1538.
The minority which adhered to the Reformation had at first shrunk
away into retirement and silence. The most active men, who are not
always the wisest, alone had spoken. But gradually the more competent
influential men appeared, recognized and united with each other, and
took combined action. The government party made little account of them;
and as Master Guillaume, as they called Farel, was in the popular
judgment the chief of the Evangelicals, they used to call these, with
a shrug of the shoulders, the _Guillemins_, nor had they a suspicion
that these people would ever recover themselves. The council, which was
little disposed to respect individual freedom, less so perhaps than
Calvin and Farel, ordered all heads of families to attend sermon on the
Sunday. This order was especially aimed at the friends of the reformers
and their refusal to hear the ministers who had taken the place of the
latter, and who, to make themselves agreeable to the magistrate, openly
censured their predecessors.

Farel and Calvin had established in Geneva not only the Church but
also the school; and some of their best friends, Saunier and Mathurin
Cordier were among the most eminent masters. This institution naturally
remained faithful to its founders, and the conduct of the government
towards it showed that they looked on it as decidedly opposed to
their views and opinions. The council did not intend to allow its
subordinates to show themselves hostile to its scheme for the direction
of ecclesiastical affairs. However, while they shrank perhaps from
disorganizing the school, they resolved, sparing at the outset the
leading men, to give them a lesson by energetically prosecuting one or
two of their under-masters.

Eynard and Gaspard were consequently cited, September 10, before
the council, which made complaint of their publicly censuring the
_preachers_, and inquired of them where they had received the supper
at Easter and Whitsuntide. They replied that they had not joined in
the communion anywhere, because St. Paul enjoined _that every man
should examine himself_, and that they had not felt in the right frame
of mind. They had no doubt been unwilling to receive the bread and
the wine, which are the communion of the body and the blood of the
Saviour, from the hands of pastors whom they judged unworthy. The
council ordered them to leave the town in three days. After having thus
inflicted disciplinary penalties on the humble under-masters, they
awaited Christmas.

Matters were by that time far worse. Many foreigners, chiefly refugees,
did not take the supper. They were condemned to leave the town, ten
days only being allowed to them to set their affairs in order. The
councillors and other Genevese who had been guilty of the same offence
were obliged to apologize and to promise ‘to live from this time forth
according to the way of the town.’ These things did not pass without
lively altercations; and in consequence of a dispute which took place
in the street on the night of December 30, 1538, one man was killed
and many were wounded.[765] The most enraged of the refractory party,
thinking to justify their conduct in attacking the settled ministers,
called them infidels, corrupters of Scripture, and papists, who tried
to deceive the people. The pastors, who were certainly not possessed
of ability enough to fill the place of the eminent doctors banished by
the council, but who endeavored for the most part to do as much good
as their moral and intellectual qualities permitted, were greatly
annoyed, complained to the council, and desired to withdraw and make
room for others better qualified than themselves. ‘These reproaches,’
they said, ‘we find it very hard to bear.’ The council assured them
that it meant to keep them, and to reconcile them with their accusers.

[Sidenote: THE REGENTS OF THE COLLEGE.]

After this second act of discipline, or rather, at the same time, the
council undertook a third, of graver character still. In their eyes the
college was still a fortress in which Calvinism had entrenched itself,
with the intention of resisting the attacks of its adversaries. The
magistrate resolved to give the regents an opportunity of declaring
themselves, and if they offered resistance, to expel them. To join
the ministers who had succeeded Farel and Calvin, to administer the
supper with them, to do an act which those great doctors had refused
to do,--this was the requirement addressed by the magistrate to
Saunier, rector of the college, and to the three regents, Mathurin
Cordier, Vautier, and Vindos. It would have been straining a point
for them to take the supper; but to be in the number of those who
administered it, after all the controversies which had taken place, was
not this ‘to be an occasion of stumbling’ for many, and a taking part
against those venerated men whose absence they deplored? These four
professors therefore stated to the council that their conscience did
not allow them to do what was required. The magistrates ought to have
considered that this act is not within the province of the regents,
and that they ought not to do anything which might, by depriving the
college of the able men who directed it, possibly lead to its ruin.
But Richardet and his friends were despots who did not intend to allow
any resistance to their will. On the day after Christmas, they ordered
the rector and the three regents to quit Geneva in the space of three
days. Saunier was dismayed. He had a very numerous household. Many
boys of good family from Basel, Berne, Zurich, Bienne, and other
towns, lived in his house; and he had a young daughter, in delicate
health, whom he would be obliged to take with him in the depth of
winter. The next day, December 27, he appeared before the Council of
the Two Hundred, stated the circumstances which we have just related,
reminded them that he was a citizen of the town, and showed them
that the resolution which they had adopted might be the ruin of the
college, which was indispensable to the youth of Geneva. In fine, he
could not possibly make the necessary arrangements in so short a time.
This last point was the only one to which the Great Council took any
heed. It confirmed the resolution of the Little Council, but granted
to the regents fifteen days to act upon it. He must therefore depart.
Saunier and his colleagues took the same road as Calvin and Farel had
taken. Mathurin Cordier, who had received the knowledge of the Gospel
from the celebrated Robert Etienne, had devoted his life to the task
‘of training youth in piety and in good morals, cultivating in them
a pure and elegant style, and the love of literature;’ had composed
some important works;[766] and was one of those antique souls, it has
been said, who always prefer the public good to their own interest.
The loss of such a man was irreparable, but it was not final. The
council sought for substitutes for these men; but they were forced to
acknowledge that to find them was no easy matter. The first candidate
who offered himself was rejected because he was a German. The second,
Claude Viguier, beat one of his pupils so severely as to draw blood.
The republican magistrates of 1538 placed submission to their arbitrary
orders before the real interests of the schools and the people.[767]
Calvin seemed to regret the course taken by Saunier. He entreated Farel
to do everything in his power to prevent division and confusion from
extending, and to induce the brethren no longer to refuse the rites
adopted by the council.

[Sidenote: PERSECUTION OF CALVIN’S FRIENDS.]

When this matter was settled, the council undertook another campaign.
Among the partisans of Calvin and of the Reformation were several
eminent men whose submission was much desired. The severity which had
just been displayed towards the learned might induce these citizens
to yield to the conquerors. Two former syndics especially, Porral and
Pertemps, looking more at the lamentable occurrences which had attended
the government appointment of the supper than at the supper itself,
had not yet been able to bring themselves to sanction blameworthy
proceedings (the banishment of their well-beloved pastors) by taking
part in the ceremonies condemned by their friends. They had, it is
true, received the letter from Calvin which urged them ‘to have
only a zeal for God moderated by his Spirit and ruled by his Word.’
But when Christmas drew near, and the supper was to be given with
unleavened bread, they had hesitated as to what they should do; and
as they doubted, they had abstained. The council was not inclined to
decide this case of conscience in an accommodating way. On January 9,
1539, Porral having appeared and being asked by the council whether
he would conform to the ordinances respecting the supper, made answer
at first in a rather vague way; and on being requested to answer
more distinctly, he said, without entering into the question of the
ordinances, ‘If it please God, I am ready to take the supper, _after
having examined myself_.’ Pertemps spoke to the same effect.[768]

The friends of Calvin knew that the reformer was distressed at the
disorders which prevailed in Geneva, and which reduced the town to
the saddest state. ‘Nothing causes me more sorrow,’ he wrote to his
friends, ‘than the quarrels and the debates which you have with the
ministers who have succeeded us. There is hardly a hope of amelioration
while altercation and discord exist. Turn away, then, your minds and
your hearts from men, and cling solely to the Redeemer.’ Calvin did not
approve the renunciation of the communion by his friends on the ground
of its celebration with unleavened bread, and he gave them a serious
admonition not to disturb the peace on this immaterial question.[769]

The council did not stop here. There were still some principal citizens
of whom they had a wish to be rid. Claude Savoye, formerly first
syndic, who had shown so much love for Geneva and even so much heroism,
was a friend of the reformers and had censured the council. He was put
in prison, September 6, 1538, on merely frivolous charges. He refused
to answer magistrates whom he regarded as his personal enemies. The
council deliberated whether it should not cause torture to be applied
to this great citizen. But honorable men revolted against this notion;
and the council, having nothing against him but presumptions without
any foundation, contented themselves with taking from him all his
offices, depriving him of all his rights, and making the town his
prison. Savoye escaped, went to Berne, and from that city announced to
the syndics that he resigned the citizenship of Geneva. Jean Goulaz,
who in 1532 had posted on the walls of the town _the great pardon
of Jesus Christ_ in opposition to the indulgences of the pope,[770]
informed the council that he likewise renounced the citizenship,
requested them to release him from his oath, and withdrew. While the
council were deliberating on his request, he felt it prudent to quit
the territory. The council, receiving information of this, ordered
pursuit to be made. He was overtaken on the bridge of Arve and was
sent to prison. Michel Rozet says with reference to these various
prosecutions, ‘Those, in a word, who had banished the ministers,
omitted no occasion of entirely dislodging their adherents.’[771]

[Sidenote: SUPPRESSION OF DISORDERS.]

An improvement, however, had just been made in the government. On
February 9, 1539, the general assembly of the people having to elect
the syndics of the year, not one of the citizens who had played a
part in the expulsion of Calvin and his friends was chosen. The new
magistrates were taken from the moderate party, and one of them,
Antoine Chiccand, was attached to the reformer. The less respectable
class of the people did not seem to be aware of the change, and they
celebrated the accession of the new magistrates after a strange
fashion. It was the time of Carnival, Easter falling that year on April
6; and although Geneva had no longer any wish for the religion of the
papacy, this class of the inhabitants still kept up its festivals and
its amusements. Their pastimes were numerous, burlesque, and even
indecent. ‘There were mummeries, lewdness, indecent songs, dances, and
blasphemies. Some went naked about the town with timbrels and pipes,’
says a contemporary.[772] Did these disorderly doings form part of
the Roman Catholic reaction that was then attracting attention? We do
not assert this. However it might be, the pastors complained to the
council, and the latter ordered an inquiry, especially against those
who went about the streets at night without their clothes. It appeared
from the inquiry that ‘those who had done so were all young, and had
intended nothing more than a freak of youthful folly.’ The council
‘remonstrated’ with the delinquents; and some women who had ‘danced to
the songs’ were put in prison for a day, and afterwards were severely
censured by the syndic. Three days later the council issued a decree
which enjoined the people ‘devoutly to listen to the Word of God on
Sundays, and to govern themselves according to it; not to swear nor
blaspheme, nor play for gold or silver;’ and forbade them ‘to go about
the town after nine o’clock without candles, to dance at any dances
except at weddings, to sing any indecent songs, to disguise themselves,
or to indulge in masks or mummeries.’

At the time when magistrates who were better disposed towards Calvin
were called to the government of the republic, a door was opened on
another side which revealed to the reformer a new world, Germany
with her doctors and her princes. Calvin was living on the banks of
the Rhine at the period when the emperor was convoking frequent and
important assemblies, which were attended by the princes either in
person or by their delegates, and in which they discussed the deepest
questions of theology with as much eagerness as diplomatists in
congress discuss the interests of their respective governments. From
the year 1535 to 1539 Protestantism had been gaining in strength; it
had made many conquests in North Germany, and appeared to be on the
point of winning the decisive victory. The Catholics were beginning to
lose heart, and the successive congresses at which they required the
Protestants to come to terms with them might well lead one to call them
a weakened army which desired only favorable conditions for lowering
its flag. Calvin watched with his keen eye this astonishing process. He
continually asserted in his letters that it was not the existence of
one Church (that of Geneva), but of all Churches, that was at stake.
There were moments when he thought that he had a glimpse of the triumph
of the Gospel in Europe; at other times he was seized with great
despondency. There was a conflict within him. His natural timidity led
him to shrink from appearing in the Germanic assemblies; but his faith
and his zeal for the kingdom of God made him long to take part in them.

[Sidenote: CONFERENCE AT FRANKFORT.]

Charles V., after making peace with Francis I., had convoked, at
Frankfort, for the month of February 1539, a conference of evangelical
and Roman Catholic theologians, who were to endeavor to find a basis
of agreement. We have not to devote our attention to all the work done
at the German assemblies which Calvin attended, but only to that which
concerns him personally. Deputies from Strasburg went to Frankfort,
but the young French doctor did not accompany them. He contented
himself with earnestly commending to Bucer the cause of the persecuted
Protestants. But shortly after, having received a letter from Bucer,
informing him that he found it was impossible for him to do anything
for his co-religionists, and hearing at the same time that Melanchthon
was present at the conferences, his spiritual earnestness overcame
the timidity of his nature. He was seized with a strong desire to go
to Frankfort and to converse with the friend of Luther on religion
and the affairs of the Church. He set out in great haste the next
day. At Frankfort he met some of the most prominent characters of the
Reformation. Here were the pious John Frederick, elector of Saxony;
young Maurice of Saxony, who was one day to prove so formidable to
Charles V.; the famous landgrave Philip of Hesse, the Duke of Luneburg,
and many other princes, whose acquaintance could not be a matter of
indifference to the young reformer. Several of these young princes were
accompanied by a great number of knights and soldiers, and all appeared
to be full of courage for the defence of the Gospel. Calvin, in long
letters to Farel, gave an account of all that he saw and thought. He
formed a most just conception of the Protestant question in Germany, of
the disposition of the princes, of the policy of Charles V., and of the
various matters under discussion. But one man was there whose society
he coveted more than that of all the princes. Calvin’s sojourn at
Frankfort is especially marked by the conversations which he had with
Melanchthon ‘on many subjects.’[773] Several of the most influential
men of the Reformation, in Switzerland and in France, were not well
informed as to the opinions of this celebrated doctor. Calvin wished
to be able to bear testimony to them with certitude. The great idea of
the French doctor was agreement between all evangelical Christians.
He was convinced that it was necessary, not only for the sake of
obedience to the commandments of Jesus Christ, but further to promote
the triumph of the evangelical cause. He wished for union, not only of
the various parties in Germany, but of Germany and Switzerland. Now
Melanchthon appeared to him the fittest man to bring about agreement
among the Protestants. No sooner had these two great doctors met and
exchanged the most kindly greetings, than Calvin opened the question.
He had communicated to Melanchthon some articles in which his view
of the supper was set forth in a way to terminate dissension. ‘There
is no room for controversy between you and me,’ said Melanchthon,
immediately; ‘I accept your articles.’[774] This was a great pleasure
to Calvin. It was however soon disturbed. ‘But,’ continued the friend
of Luther, ‘I must confess to you that we have some among us who
demand something more material, and this so obstinately, not to say so
despotically,[775] that I have found myself for a long time exposed
to danger because they know that I differ from them on this subject.
I do not believe that a solid agreement is attainable. But I desire
that we should abide by the present agreement, such as it is, until the
Lord lead us by one way or another into union in the truth.’ Calvin
perfectly satisfied, hastened to write to Farel--‘Entertain no more any
doubt about him, but consider him as holding altogether the same views
as we do.’ Farel and Calvin found in Melanchthon an important ally.

[Sidenote: CALVIN AND MELANCHTHON.]

There was another question on which Calvin desired to ascertain the
opinion of Melanchthon; it was that of discipline. On this subject he
was not fully satisfied. Hardly had he mentioned it when his companion
began, like others, says Calvin, to lament its absence in the Church.
‘Ah,’ said Calvin, ‘it is easier to mourn over the miserable state of
the Church in this respect than to change it. And meanwhile how many
examples are there which ought to animate us in seeking a remedy for
this evil! Not long ago a good and learned man, who could not take on
himself to tolerate vice, was driven from Ulm in disgrace, while his
colleagues gave him the most honorable references. The news received
from Augsburg is no better. Some day people will make a sport of
deposing their pastors and sending them into exile.’ ‘We are in the
midst of such a storm,’ said Melanchthon, ‘that we can do nothing
better than give way for a short time to adverse winds.[776] We may
hope that when external foes give us more repose, we shall be able to
apply ourselves to remedying the evils that are within.’

These conversations of Calvin and Melanchthon possessed a great
attraction for both of them. We can imagine how interesting was this
exchange of views between two of the most distinguished minds of the
age. Their speech was simple, profound, and natural. They listened
well and replied well. Calvin spoke with great freedom, although
without dogmatism. The ceremonies of worship in the Lutheran churches,
the singing in Latin, the images and other things quite as much to
be censured, were among the subjects which he had at heart. ‘I must
confess to you frankly,’ he said to Melanchthon, ‘that this superfluity
of ceremonies pains me; it seems to me that the forms which you have
kept are not far removed from Judaism.’[777] Calvin having given
his reasons, ‘I will not dispute with you on this subject,’ said
Melanchthon; ‘I own that we have among us too many of these senseless,
or at any rate certainly superfluous rites.[778] But it was necessary
to concede this to the canonists, who show themselves very obstinate
with respect to it. For the rest, there is no place in Saxony which
is less overloaded with them than Wittenberg, and even there much of
this farrago will be thrown overboard. Luther disapproves just as much
the ceremonies which he has been compelled to keep as he does your
parsimony in regard to them.’ Calvin when relating this conversation
to Farel adds, ‘Bucer cannot endure that for the sake of these paltry
outward observances we should separate from Luther; and I too believe
that they are not legitimate causes of division.’[779] From all these
conversations Calvin derived the conviction of the complete sincerity
of Melanchthon, and this he was anxious to communicate to those who
doubted it.

[Sidenote: HENRY VIII. AND MELANCHTHON.]

Henry VIII. was at this time requesting that a new embassy should
be sent to him, and that Melanchthon should be a member of it. The
princes were not inclined to intrust the mission to this doctor, as
they feared that he might, for want of firmness of character, make
imprudent concessions to the king.[780] Calvin opened his mind freely
to Melanchthon on the subject. ‘I swear most solemnly to you,’ replied
the latter, ‘that there is no ground for this fear.’ ‘I rely on him no
less than on Bucer,’ wrote Calvin to Farel. ‘When the business is to
treat with those who require to be treated with some indulgence, Bucer
is animated with so much zeal for the propagation of the Gospel that,
content with having obtained the most important things, he is perhaps
sometimes rather too ready to give up those which he looks on as very
subordinate, and which for all that have their weight.’ Further,
Calvin’s opinion of Henry VIII. was formed, and he did not conceal
it. ‘This prince,’ said he, ‘is scarcely half wise.[781] He prohibits
the marriage of priests and bishops, not only under the penalty of
deprivation of their offices, but by severe punishments besides. He
maintains the daily masses and the seven sacraments. He has thus a
mutilated Gospel, half of it torn off, and a Church still full of many
absurdities.[782] He has recently published a new edict, by which he
endeavors to keep the people from the reading of the Bible; and to
show you that it is not mere thoughtlessness, but that he takes up the
matter in earnest, he has lately had a good and wise man burnt because
he denied the carnal presence of Christ in the bread.’[783] Calvin
afterwards says, ‘The worst of it is that the king tolerates nothing
but what he has sanctioned with his own authority. Thus it will come
to pass that Christ shall profit them nothing, except the king should
be willing to permit him. The Lord will punish such arrogance by some
notable chastisement.’[784]

It was determined at Frankfort that another assembly should be held in
the course of the summer. Melanchthon, soon after his arrival in that
town, had seen in a dream a large picture in which was represented the
figure of Christ on the cross, and around him souls clothed in white.
The electors of the empire, bearing the ensigns of their dignity, were
approaching it in regular order. Next after them came an ass, covered
with a linen cope and dragging after him with a rope the emperor and
the pope, as if he were going to conduct them to that assembly of the
blessed.[785] ‘I think,’ said Myconius, who was then at Frankfort,
‘that it is the Germanic ass which the emperor and the pope have
hitherto ridden so hard and miserably treated.’ The good Melanchthon
was very much taken up with the thought of leading to Christ all the
German princes, and even the emperor and the pope; and it appears that
in his great humility he had represented himself in his dream under the
figure of an ass. Luther in his reply thinks decidedly that it was a
two-footed ass.[786] Be that as it may, the assembly at Frankfort does
not appear to have led anybody to the crucified, and especially neither
pope nor emperor. It would have taken more than one rope to draw them
thither. Calvin did not wait for the close of the colloquy to return to
Strasburg.




                             CHAPTER XVI.

                   CALVIN’S RELATIONS WITH SADOLETO.

                                (1539.)


[Sidenote: MEETING OF PRELATES AT LYONS.]

Rome, meanwhile, was not indifferent to what was taking place at
Geneva. Between the papacy and the Reformation there were action and
reaction, which kept both in constant agitation. When once the Catholic
reaction began, not content with mere resistance, it assumed the
offensive. The partisans of the pope, still pretty numerous in Geneva,
informed the Bishop de la Baume of what occurred in the town; and he,
who like all dispossessed princes was always expecting to be restored
to his episcopal see, the sweets of which he remembered better than the
bitterness, communicated with the pope. The latter gave to La Baume
the cardinal’s hat, in the hope that this dignity might be a bait to
draw the Genevese to place themselves once more under the crook of
their bishop. Then he invited the prelates who were nearest neighbors
to Geneva to take in hand the cause of their colleague. The Bishops of
Lyons, Besançon, Lausanne, Vienne, Turin, Langres and Carpentras, met
the Bishop of Geneva in the first of these towns. ‘The flock,’ they
said, ‘being now deprived of its pastors, men so eminent, we must seize
the opportunity to rescue it from the Reformation.’[787] Many Genevese
Catholics had emigrated to Lyons, and they spared no pains to bring
about the restoration of the prelate. Pierre de la Baume asked of his
colleagues ‘the recovery of his diocese.’ The Cardinal of Tournon,
the notorious persecutor of the Vaudois, and the introducer of the
Jesuits into France, who was at this time archbishop of Lyons, was
president of the meeting. He had thus an opportunity of satisfying his
inextinguishable passion against the _Calvinists_. Jean Philippe, chief
author of the banishment of Calvin, met with Tournon in the church
at Lyons, and carried on intrigues with him.[788] The affair might
perhaps have had a violent ending, but that a man was there present of
a different stamp from the archbishop. This was Cardinal Sadoleto, who,
as bishop Carpentras, a town in Dauphiné bordering on Savoy, seemed by
his neighboring position bound to concern himself more particularly
with Geneva. He was connected with Bembo, secretary to Leo X., was a
great lover of the classics, of philosophy and the arts, and was a man
of great eloquence, says Beza, but used it for extinguishing the true
light.[789] He very much regretted that the Reformation appeared to be
taking precedence of the Renaissance. He was, however, of more liberal
mind than adherents of the pope usually were. He loved Melanchthon. He
thought that it was not right to address the Genevese in the imperious
tone of a master, with dogmatic arguments of the school, or with the
intolerance of inquisitors, but rather in a polite style. Sadoleto was
therefore instructed to write a letter to the Genevese in which he was
to invite them mildly to return to the bosom of the Church. That the
contrivances and efforts of the pope, of the Bishop de la Baume, of the
Cardinal of Tournon and his colleagues, should issue only in a letter,
was rather a feeble conclusion.

   Parturiunt montes, nascetur ridiculus mus.

[Sidenote: LETTER OF SADOLETO TO GENEVA.]

But they probably saw that they were powerless to do more. The
cardinal-bishop hoped to gain over the Genevese ‘by wheedling them with
fine words to turn them away from Jesus Christ,’ says a contemporary,
‘and by blaming the ministers of whom God had made use for reforming
the town.’[790] On March 26 his messenger, Jean Durand, of Carpentras,
was admitted into the hall of the council, and delivered the missive
addressed by his bishop to his _well-beloved brethren_ the syndics,
councils, and citizens of Geneva. There was not a word about the
conference at Lyons. ‘It has seemed good to the Holy Spirit and to me
to write to you. The reason is that while at Carpentras I have heard
reports concerning you which partly make me sad and partly give me
hope.’ Knowing how seductive flattery is, he writes the most beautiful
eulogy of Geneva. ‘I love the noble aspect of your town, the order and
form of your republic, the excellence of the citizens, and, above all,
the exquisite humanity which you display towards all foreign people
and nations.’ But by the side of this flattering picture he hastens
to place a portrait not so pleasing of the reformers. ‘Certain crafty
men, enemies of Christian union and peace, have cast into your town
the seeds of discord. I hear on one side the weeping, sighing, and
groaning of our holy Church. On the other side I perceive that these
innovators are not only pestilential to souls, but also pernicious in
a high degree to public and private affairs.’ Next he himself makes an
almost evangelical profession. He exalts the Word of God which, says
he, ‘does not entangle minds in difficult processes of reasoning; but,
a heavenly affection of the heart coming to its aid, offers itself with
clearness to our understandings.’ He exalts the work of Christ, ‘who
was willing to be our salvation, by suffering death in the flesh and
afterwards resuming an immortal life.’ He even exalts justification by
faith, _faith alone_, which all Roman controversialists curse. ‘This
everlasting salvation comes to us,’ said he, ‘by faith alone in God
and in Jesus Christ. When I say _by faith alone_, I do not mean that
charity and the duty of a Christian are dispensed with.’ Sadoleto was
undoubtedly sincere in these professions. He belonged, as is known,
to a small body of men feebly inclined towards the Gospel, who were
at that time supported by the papacy in the hope that they would be
the means of bringing back the Protestants. But he must have known
well that the doctrine of the reformers, far from dispensing with duty
and charity, asserted them, made them possible, and at the same time
necessary.

Having thus gained his hearers, as he thought, the cardinal-bishop
began the contest. ‘The loss of the soul,’ said he, ‘being the greatest
ill possible to a man, our duty is, to the utmost of our power, to
take care. Amidst the waves of our life we are in need of some means
of escape from striking on the rocks and losing the vessel. This is
what the Catholic Church has provided for fifteen hundred years; while
these crafty men only began their innovations against the perpetual
authority of the Church five-and-twenty years ago.’ Then follows a fine
rhetorical burst which lacks nothing but truth and solidity. ‘Here is
the point,’ said he; ‘here is the parting of the ways, the one road
leading unto life, the other unto everlasting death. Every man arrives
by his own road before the judgment-seat of the supreme Judge, Catholic
and Protestant alike, there to have his cause investigated.’

The Catholics get off wonderfully, but when the turn of the
Evangelicals comes it is quite otherwise with them. Sadoleto takes good
care not to let the simple faithful ones appear, and brings before
the tribunal only ‘one of the promoters of these divisions.’ He does
not name either Luther or Calvin, but it is evident that it is one of
them that he brings on the scene, probably the latter. Having leave to
speak, the reformer begins thus: ‘O sovereign God! when I considered
how all but universally corrupt are the morals of ecclesiastics, I was
justly moved to anger against them; and when I thought also how much
time I had spent in the study of theology and of human science, and
that nevertheless I had not attained in the Church the rank which my
labors deserved, while other men, my inferiors, were raised to honors
and to benefices, I induced the greater part of the people to despise
the decrees of the Church. I asserted that the bishops of Rome had
falsely usurped the title of vicars of Christ; and having by this
reputation of learning and wisdom obtained renown among the nations, I
caused many seditions and divisions in the Church.’

[Sidenote: CONCLUSION OF THE LETTER.]

Sadoleto having made the reformer speak in this fashion, again
addresses the men of Geneva, and says to them, ‘How will it turn
out, then, brethren, whom I wish to be united with me?’ The result
of this double appearance is inevitable, and the promoter of all
this evil, ‘taking his stand upon his works, holding in contempt the
general assemblies of bishops, dismembering the one spouse of Christ,
and tearing to pieces the Lord’s robe, can only weep for ever over
his misery, gnashing his teeth even at himself.’ Consequently, the
cardinal-bishop exhorts his brethren of Geneva, after having removed
all the mists of error, to abide in union with our holy mother
Church.[791]

The reasoning of Sadoleto failed in its basis. He had confounded the
Reformation of the sixteenth century with the so-called reforms of the
preceding centuries. Those attempts, numerous enough, aimed at the
morals of the clergy and the abuses of the Church without attacking
the doctrine, and they miscarried. But the true Reformation directed
its efforts against the false doctrines of Rome, in order to put the
doctrine of the Gospel in its place. ‘It took the bull by the horns,’
as Luther says, and had him down. Liberal Catholics have imagined, that
if from the first such a course as Sadoleto’s had been adopted, the
course of the Reformation would have been entirely different.[792] But
they are mistaken, as the Bishop of Carpentras was, who, aiming his
blows at an enemy in the air, hit nothing but the air.

The council having heard the letter, very gladly accepted the
compliments paid to Geneva, sincerely thanked the cardinal’s messenger,
and charged him to say that a full reply should be sent in due
course. This was necessary, for the partisans of the pope in Geneva
praised the cardinal’s letter to the skies, and eagerly circulated
it in all directions. But there was no one able to answer it. The
pastors established by the government were not strong enough to
venture a struggle with Sadoleto. Morand himself, who was requested
by the council to undertake it, was incompetent. All those who in any
degree adhered to the Reformation were in a state of alarm, for they
understood that silence in this state of things would inevitably be a
great calamity to Geneva.[793]

It was on March 26 that the letter in which Sadoleto urged the Genevese
to forsake the Reformation had been delivered to the council, and on
the 27th this body resolved to reply to it in due time and place. On
the 28th several citizens appeared before the council; one of them,
François Chamois, demanding on their behalf that the confession of
faith of the Reformation which had been sworn at St. Peter’s, July 29,
1537, should be withdrawn from the possession of the former official
secretary, as contrary to their liberties; and that they themselves
should be released from the oath which they had taken to that
confession.[794] There is so intimate and evident a relation between
the proposal of Sadoleto and this proceeding of the citizens, the one
so punctually followed upon the other, that it is very difficult not
to suppose that the letter of the bishop had much to do in promoting
the requisition of Chamois and his friends. The audience given by the
council to the deputy of a cardinal, and the proposal of which he was
the bearer, were a matter so considerable and of such exciting interest
that the rumor of it could not fail to spread immediately in this town,
where people so habitually used to say, ‘What is the news? What is
talked of? What is going on?’

[Sidenote: IMMEDIATE CONSEQUENCES.]

Among the citizens who accompanied Chamois there might be some who
did not belong to the Catholic party, and who merely took advantage
of the opportunity for getting rid of a confession of faith which
was burdensome to them. But it is not to be wondered at that some
Roman writers have looked on the demand of Chamois as the consequence
of the letter of Sadoleto. Michael Rozet, the son of Claude, says,
not undesignedly, in his Chronicles, that it was one day after the
reception at Geneva of the cardinal’s despatch, that the citizens
_protested_ against the articles. He even adds, ‘There was warning
from neighbors of a body of armed men in preparation by the enemy,
and that these had an understanding with a party in the town.’ This
measure was not unsuccessful. Claude Rozet had received the oaths of
the citizens on July 29, and in his hands the original of the famous
articles was still deposited. The council gave him orders to deliver
them up. However grave a step this might be, it cannot be said that
the faith was given up with the articles of faith. Many had never held
this faith, and those who had held it, held it still. Nevertheless, the
surrender of the fundamental document of the evangelical reformation
was certainly an important step towards Rome.[795]

It was soon apparent what was to be thought of the _Christian charity,
and the affection touched with double pity and compassion_, of which
Sadoleto had given assurance. In the very month which followed the
delivery of his letter, an eminent Genevese, Curtet, castellan of
Chaumont on the Mount du Vuache, went to Annecy, which was not far
distant; and during his stay, April 17, in his hostelry, talked with
the country people of God and his Gospel.[796] Among those present was
Montchenu, who, annoyed at having failed in his scheme for giving up
Geneva to Francis I., continued to feel much bitterness about it; and,
quite as much out of pique as from hatred of the Reformation, denounced
the Genevese citizen and inflamed the clergy against him. Curtet was
seized and burnt alive.

Another Genevese, Jean Lambert, brother of the councillor, had been
for some time a prisoner in Savoy, on a like charge. A week after the
execution of Curtet, the public place of Chambery was filled with
such a crowd as always runs after the terrible spectacle of a violent
death. Lambert was brought there about three o’clock. He was a ruddy
and strong young man, and they led him up and down to show him to
the people. ‘This is one of the bigots of Geneva,’ people said as he
passed, with other speeches of the like kind. He was taken to the front
of the castle, where a pile was erected. The provost wanted him to make
some confession, but Lambert did not open his mouth. ‘Slit his tongue
if he will not speak,’ barbarously cried the enraged provost to the
executioner. The priests who stood round their victim would fain have
compelled him to recite the _Ave Maria_, but the martyr refused to do
it. Then addressing the Father who is in heaven, he uttered aloud the
Lord’s prayer. This provoked the priests and the monks, who cried to
the spectators, ‘Do not pray for this cursed dog, for he is damned to
all the devils.’ ‘Lambert died,’ says one of the narratives, ‘for his
faith in God and without any trial.’ If the words of Sadoleto were
tender, the deeds of his fellow religionists were harsh.[797]

[Sidenote: CALVIN’S REPLY TO SADOLETO.]

The letter of the Bishop of Carpentras could not remain unknown to
Calvin; in fact it was communicated to him in April by Sulzer, a pastor
of Berne. The reformer read it, and his first impulse was to consider
whether it was worth while to reply to it. But apprehending the evil
which the letter might bring on Geneva, ‘forgetting all the wrongs that
he had received,’[798] and yielding to the entreaties of his Strasburg
friends, he undertook the task. ‘It will occupy me for six days,’ he
wrote to Farel. Calvin’s letter bears date September 1, 1539.[799] It
is an important document, both for the light which it throws on the
character and the work of Calvin, and because it is necessary to know
in what manner the blow then struck by Rome at the Reformation was
parried. This letter, we may say, was the mighty voice which led back
Geneva to the true Gospel.[800] Two feelings are conspicuous in it with
regard to Sadoleto. Calvin, in addressing one of the most distinguished
and most enlightened men in the Catholic Church, will speak to him with
respect and even with praise, but at the same time he will not hide
from him the indignation aroused by his attacks.

‘Thy surpassing learning,’ says he in beginning his letter, ‘thine
admirable elegance of speech, have deservedly caused thee to be held in
high esteem and admiration by the true votaries of polite literature,
and it is exceedingly painful to me to be obliged by this complaint to
sully thy fair renown. I should never have undertaken the task if I had
not been compelled to do so.... No one can suppose that I could have
abandoned the cause without great cowardice and contempt of my ministry.

‘Thou hast very recently written a letter to the council and people of
Geneva, and having no wish to display harshness towards those of whom
thou hadst need in order to gain thy cause, thou hast attempted by soft
words to circumvent them. Next, thou hast come up impetuously, and
so to speak, at full speed to discharge thy force against those who,
according to thy saying, have involved that poor town in trouble by
their sophistries. I would have thee know, Sadoleto, that I am one of
those against whom thou speakest; and although I am at the present time
relieved of the administration of the Genevese Church, this does not
prevent my cherishing towards it a fatherly love.

‘But for thyself, Sadoleto, a foreigner, who hast hitherto had no
acquaintance at all with the people of Geneva, thou professest on
a sudden to feel for them singular love and goodwill, of which,
nevertheless, no fruit ever appeared. Thou who didst serve thine
apprenticeship at the Court of Rome, that shop of all artifice and
cunning, who wert not only brought up as it were in the arms of Pope
Clement, but what is more, made a cardinal, thou hast certainly many
spots which render thee suspected. The duty of pastors is to lead
obedient souls straight to Christ; but thy chief aim is to deliver them
over to the power of the pope.

‘With a view to cast suspicion on us thou taxest us, unjustly (for thou
well knowest the contrary), with having wished only to gratify our
ambition and avarice. Certain it is that if I had paid regard to my
personal advantage, I should never have separated from your faction.
And who would dare to cast such charges at Farel, who, born of a
noble house, had no need to ask assistance from others? Was not our
shortest way of attaining to wealth and honors to accept from the first
the conditions which you have offered us? For what price would your
pope then have purchased the silence of many, and for how much would
he still purchase it to-day? Did we not require that, after having
assigned to the ministers so much as was fitting for their condition,
the wealth of the Church, swallowed up by those gulfs, should be
distributed to the poor as in the primitive Church? Our only thought
has been the extension of the kingdom of God by means of our littleness
and lowliness; and to attempt to persuade men of the contrary is a
thing most unbecoming to Sadoleto, a man of such high reputation for
knowledge, prudence, and seriousness.

[Sidenote: CHRISTIAN ANTIQUITY.]

‘The men of Geneva, extricating themselves from the slough of error in
which they were sunk, have returned to the doctrine of the Gospel, and
this thou callest abandoning the truth of God! They have retired from
papal subjection and tyranny in order to have a better ecclesiastical
government, and this, sayest thou, is a real separation from the
Church! Surely, Sadoleto, I shall stop thee on the way. Where is, on
your side, the Word of God, which is the mark of the true Church? If
a man belongs to God’s army he must be prepared for the battle. See,
the enemy is quite near; he approaches, he fights, and he is indeed an
enemy so well-conditioned that no earthly power can resist him. What
armor will this poor Christian be able to put on, to save him from
being overwhelmed? It is the Word of God. The soul deprived of the Word
of God is delivered over to the devil, quite defenceless, to be slain.
The first attempt of the enemy, therefore, will be to take from the
combatant the sword of Jesus Christ. The pope, like the “illuminés,”
arrogantly boasts of possessing the Spirit. But it is to insult the
Holy Spirit to separate him from the Word.

‘We are more nearly in agreement with antiquity than you our opponents,
as thou knowest, Sadoleto, and we ask for nothing else than to see
restored that ancient face of the Church which has been torn to pieces
and almost destroyed by the pope and his faction. And, not to speak
of the condition of the Church as constituted by the apostles (which,
however, we are bound to accept), consider what it was among the Greeks
in the days of Chrysostom and Basil, and among the Latins in the days
of Cyprian, Ambrose, and Augustin, and afterwards contemplate the
ruins which are all that now remain to you. Thou wilt find as much
difference between the two as between the Church as it flourished under
David, and the Church as fallen into all kinds of superstitions under
Zedekiah. Wilt thou call that man an enemy of antiquity, who, full
of zeal for ancient piety, longs to restore in their first splendor
the things which are now corrupted? With what right are we accused of
having subverted the ancient discipline, by the very party that has
abolished them?

‘Dost thou not recollect that at the time when our people began to
appear, nothing was taught in the schools but pure sophistries, so
tangled and twisted that scholastic theology might well be called a
kind of secret magic? There were no sermons from which foolish old
women did not learn more dreams than they could relate in a month by
their own fireside. The first portion was devoted to obscure questions
of the schools, to excite the wonder of the poor people, and the
second portion to merry tales or amusing speculations, to rouse their
hearts to mirth. But no sooner had our preachers raised their banner
than the shadows were dispersed, and your preachers, taught by them
and compelled by shame and the murmurs of the people, were obliged to
follow their example, although they have still traces of these old
follies.

‘Thou touchest on justification by faith. But this article, which
stands supreme in our religion, has been effaced by you from the memory
of men. Thou allegest that we take no account of good works. If thou
lookest into my catechism, at the first word thou wilt be silent as
if overcome. We deny, it is true, that they are of any avail in the
justification of man, not even so much as a hair, for the Scripture
gives us no hope except in the goodness of God alone. But while we deny
the virtue of works in the justification of man, we attribute worth
to them in the life of the just, for Christ came to create _a people
zealous of good works_.’

We pass over the beautiful passages in which Calvin speaks of the
supper, confession, the invocation of saints, purgatory, the ministry,
and the Church, and we come to the moment at which he remembers that
Sadoleto had cited him and his brethren ‘as criminals before the
judgment-seat of God.’ He accepts that summons.

[Sidenote: CALVIN’S DEFENCE.]

‘We prick up our ears,’ said he, ‘at this sound of the trumpet which
the very ashes of the dead will hear in the depths of their graves.’
And then, not only in his own name but in that of all the reformers,
Calvin says to God:--

‘I have ever appealed to thy tribunal, Lord, from the accusations
with which I have been harassed on the earth, and it is with the same
confidence that I now appear before thee, knowing that in thy judgments
truth prevails. They have accused me of very grievous crimes and of
heresy. But in the first place, what have I done? Seeing that, with
no regard to thy Word, they abused the common people, and made a mock
at them by I know not what sort of drivelling, I dared to contradict
their constitutions. Thy Christ was indeed adored as God, but he was
virtually without honor; for deprived of his virtue and of his power,
he was lost sight of in the crowd of saints, as if merely one of the
common mass. There were none who rested in his righteousness alone; and
if any one, enjoying thy loving kindness and the righteousness of thy
Son, conceived a sure hope of salvation, this was, they said, rash
presumption and foolish arrogance. Then, O Lord, thou didst set before
me thy Word, like a torch, to make me know how pernicious these things
are; and thou hast touched my heart, to the end that I may hold them in
abhorrence.

‘They have accused me of schism. But is that man to be reputed a
traitor who, when he sees the soldiers quitting the ranks, forgetting
their captain, the battle, and the oath which they have taken,
scattered, wandering to and fro, raises the standard, calls them back,
and sets them again in order? To recall them from such wanderings I
have not given to the wind a strange flag, but that noble standard
which it is necessary we should follow, if we would be enrolled in the
number of thy people. But those whose duty it was to keep the soldiers
in good order and who have on the contrary cast them into error, have
laid hands on me, and the conflict has been so furious as to break up
union. But on which side is the fault? It is for thee, Lord, now to say
and to decide.

‘If I had desired to maintain peace with those who boast of being
the foremost in the Church, I could have purchased it only by the
renunciation of the truth. I have felt it my duty to risk all the
dangers of the world rather than stoop to a compact so abominable.
But I do not think that by being at war with those great ones I am at
variance with thy Church. Thy Son, and thine apostles, had foretold
that there would be ravening wolves even amongst those who gave
themselves out for pastors. Was I bound then to give them my hand? The
prophets were not schismatics by reason of their contending against the
priests. For my part, confirmed by their example, I have so persisted
in my course that neither their threats nor their denunciations have in
the least degree amazed me.

‘Commotions have followed; but as they were not caused by me, they
ought not to be imputed to me. Thou knowest well, Lord, that I have had
no other object in view except this, that by thy Word all controversy
might be terminated. Thou knowest that I have not objected, even at the
peril of my life, that peace should be restored in the Church. But what
did our adversaries do? Did they not run off suddenly and furiously to
the fire, to the gallows, to the sword? Did they not stir up people of
all ranks to the same rage?... Hence it has come to pass that such a
war has been kindled. And whatever may be thought, I am freed from all
fear, since we are before thy judgment-seat where justice and truth
meet together.’

[Sidenote: HIS FIRST FAITH.]

At this point Calvin narrates his conversion. It is an important part
of his defence, and we cannot omit it. He still addresses the Supreme
Judge:--

‘As for me,[801] Lord, I confessed the Christian faith as I had learnt
it from my youth.

‘At that time there were but few people to whom was committed the
pursuit of that divine and secret philosophy, and it was with them
that the oracles had to be sought. But they had not instructed me
well respecting either the adoration of thy divinity, or an assured
hope of salvation, or the obligation of a Christian life. To obtain
thy mercy they showed no other means than making satisfaction for our
sins, and blotting out thy remembrance of them by our good works. They
said that thou wast a rigorous judge, severely avenging iniquity; they
pointed out how terrible thy look must be, and commanded us to address
the saints, to the end that through their intercession thou mightest
be made propitious to us. But when I had done all these things, and
although to some extent I relied on them, I was very far from having a
quiet and trustful conscience. Every time that I descended into myself,
or lifted up my heart to thee, a horror so extreme seized upon me that
there were neither purifications nor satisfactions that could heal me.
The more closely I considered my case, the sharper became the stings
with which my conscience was tormented: there was neither solace nor
comfort left me.

‘As nothing better was offered me, I pursued the course which I had
begun, when there arose an entirely different form of doctrine, not
intended to turn us away from the Christian profession, but to trace
it back to its real source, and to restore it in its purity, cleansed
from all defilement. Offended with this novelty, I would not listen
to it; and I confess that at the outset I did courageously resist it.
One thing especially kept me from believing those people; this was
reverence for the Church.

‘But after I had consented sometimes to be instructed, I perceived that
the fear of seeing the majesty of the Church lessened was idle. These
people showed that there was a wide difference between forsaking the
Church and correcting the vices with which she was defiled; and that
if they spoke freely against the Pope of Rome, held to be the vicar of
Christ and head of the Church, they did so because these titles were
only idle terrors which ought not to dazzle the eyes of the faithful;
that the pope had risen to such magnificence only when ignorance
oppressed the world like deep sleep; that it was by his own authority
and sole will that he had elected himself, and that we were under no
obligation to endure the tyranny with which he oppressed the nations,
if we desired that the kingdom of Christ should remain in its fulness
amongst us; that when this principality was erected, the genuine order
of the Church was wholly lost, the keys (ecclesiastical order) wickedly
falsified, Christian liberty suppressed, and the kingdom of Christ
totally overthrown.

‘When I began to discover in what a slough of errors I had wallowed
and with how many stains I was disgraced, desperately alarmed and
distracted at the sight of the misery into which I had fallen, and
by the knowledge of the eternal death which was at hand, I condemned
with tears and groans my former way of life, and esteemed nothing more
needful for me than to betake myself to thine. What then is left for
me to do, for me poor and miserable, but to offer to thee, as all my
vindication, a humble supplication not to impute to me the so horrible
forsaking and estrangement from thy Word, from which thou hast once
rescued me by thy marvellous kindness?’

[Sidenote: THE REAL SCHISMATICS.]

Having finished his pleading before the Judge, Calvin returns to
Sadoleto and says: ‘Now, if it seem good to thee, compare this address
with that which thou hast put into the mouth of thy man, whose defence
turns only on this hinge, to wit, that he constantly kept the religion
which had been handed down to him by his forefathers and predecessors.
His salvation is in great peril, without a shadow of doubt; for on the
same ground Jews, Turks, and Saracens would escape the judgment of God.
The tribunal will not then be prepared to accept the authority of men,
but to maintain the truth of God. Your doctors will not then have a
stage at hand for the sale, without risk, of their imitation gems, and
for the abuse of consciences by their trumpery and inventions. They
will remain what they are, and they will fall by the judgment of God,
which depends not on popular favor, but on his unchangeable justice.

‘Although thou treatest us with too little humanity in the whole of thy
letter, it is nevertheless in the last clause, in the plainest terms,
that thou imputest to us the most enormous of all crimes, to wit, _that
we disperse and tear to pieces the spouse of Jesus Christ_. What! would
the spouse of Jesus Christ be torn in pieces by those who desire to
present her as a chaste virgin to Christ, and who, finding her polluted
with many stains, recall her to her plighted faith? Was not the purity
of the Church destroyed by strange doctrines, disgraced by innumerable
superstitions, tainted by the worship of images? Indeed, because we did
not endure that the sacred resting place and nuptial chamber of Christ
should be thus defiled by you, we are accused of having dismembered
his spouse. It is you that have been guilty of this laceration, and
not with regard to the Church only, but with regard to Jesus Christ
himself, whom you have miserably cut in pieces. Where is the wholeness
of Christ, when the glory of his righteousness, of his holiness, of his
wisdom, is transferred to others?

‘I acknowledge that since the Gospel has appeared anew, great conflicts
have been occasioned. But it is not at our door that the guilt of this
is to be laid. We ask for a peace with which the kingdom of Christ
shall flourish; but you judge that all that is gained for Christ is
lost to you. Pray the Lord, Sadoleto, that thou and thy people may once
for all understand that there is no other bond in the church but Christ
our Lord, who withdraws us from the dissipations of the world to place
us in the society of his body, to the end that by his only Word and by
his Spirit, we may be united in one heart and one thought!

‘Strasburg, the 1st day of September, 1539.’

This letter found its way wherever the great question of the age was
discussed, and made a deep impression. There were in it an impulse, a
strength, a freedom, and a life which people were not accustomed to
find in the writings of the Roman doctors. Luther greatly rejoiced in
it, and soon after its publication sent a ‘respectful’ greeting to
Calvin. At the same time, struck by the Romish presumption of Sadoleto,
he added, with a touch of malice, ‘I wish that Sadoleto could believe
that God is the Creator of men even beyond the borders of Italy.’[802]
He expressed his joy that God raised up men like Calvin, and, far from
looking on him as an antagonist, he saw in him a doctor who would
continue what he had himself begun against Antichrist, and with God’s
help would complete it.

[Sidenote: EFFECT OF THE REPLY AT GENEVA.]

But it was especially at Geneva that Calvin’s letter made a deep
impression. The respect which he had shown to Sadoleto prepossessed
people in his favor; and the eloquence of his discourse, that gift
of the soul which he possessed, made him master of men’s minds. In
his thought and in his expressions there was a close correspondence
with the disposition of a large number of his readers. Moreover, it
was impossible to read the two letters without seeing that the young
evangelical doctor had beaten the Roman cardinal. And then, was not the
cause in behalf of which Calvin had given battle that of Geneva? Was
not the defeat of Sadoleto, and thereby also that of his constituents,
the pope and the conference of Lyons, the greatest service that could
be rendered to the republic? And finally had not this man whom they had
driven away spoken of the town which had expelled him with fatherly
love? Did he not say in his letter, ‘I cannot divert my attention from
the Church of Geneva; I cannot love it less nor hold it less dear than
my own soul.... Consider what folly it would be not to lay to heart the
ruin of those for whose protection I am bound to watch day and night.’

Sadoleto could not conceal from himself the force of the blow which he
had received, nor did he venture to reply. The general himself being
beaten, the staff dispersed. There was nothing more said about the
conference of Lyons, and the Bishop de la Baume was not long before he
disappeared from the scenes of this world. At the same time that Calvin
replied to Sadoleto, he wrote to Neuchâtel, Lausanne, and Geneva. He
called the inhabitants of the latter town to repentance towards God, to
patient bearing with the wicked, and to peace with their pastors; and
above all he exhorted them to call upon God.[803] Geneva was confirmed
in her love for a cause which had been so well defended against the
attacks of one of the most distinguished orators of the age, and the
gates of the city, lately closed against the reformer, began to open
again.

Calvin had at this time to do with another Catholic doctor of much
less worth than Sadoleto, Caroli. This man is not worth the trouble of
dwelling long on anything that concerns him. As he had not succeeded
in gaining the good graces of the pope or of the Cardinal Tournon,
he made one more change and turned anew towards the reformers. Farel
received him with much kindness, believed in his promises and made
peace with him. Caroli came to Strasburg. Bucer, as kind by nature
as Farel, nevertheless requested Calvin to make known all the faults
of the adventurer. This the reformer declined to do, believing that
it would have no good result; but he invited the haughty doctor to
confess cordially and sincerely that he had sinned. Instead of this a
writing was handed to Calvin in which Caroli said, ‘that he left to
the judgment of the Lord the offences which had been committed against
himself, and which had induced him to quit the Evangelical Church.’
The reformer was indignant. ‘This stirred my bile so much,’ said he,
‘that I discharged it with bitterness. I declared that I would sooner
die than sign such a paper as that.’ He yielded, however, a little
to his friends, and said that he would consider the matter with more
care before giving a decisive answer. Hardly had he returned to his
own house when he was seized with an extraordinary paroxysm. ‘I could
find no consolation,’ said he to Farel, ‘but in sighs and tears; and
what afflicted me most was the circumstance that you were the cause
of all this mischief. You ought not to have received him anew into
our communion until he solemnly confessed his offence and declared
that he repented of it. But now that you have received him, prevent
at least your people from insulting him.’[804] Ere long, however,
Calvin’s friends at Strasburg and Farel himself acknowledged that
they had been too indulgent. Caroli, finding that the churches of
Neuchâtel and Strasburg refused to comply with the requests that he
addressed to them, retired to Metz. From that place he wrote to Calvin
a letter in which he offered to be reconciled with him if he would get
a benefice for him. He seemed to wish to overawe him by reproaches and
idle bravado. Calvin asked him how it came to pass that he had made a
boast before the adversaries of Christ at Metz that he was prepared to
convict of heresy the reformer and his friends. He added that he was
not able to procure for him the church which he asked for, in the first
place because he had none at his disposal, and further because he could
not do so while they were not in agreement about doctrines. ‘Turn you
seriously to the Lord,’ he said to him, ‘and then you will be able to
return to us with that friendship and brotherly concord which Farel and
I are prepared, in that case, to show you.’ Caroli did not adopt this
friendly council. He returned to Rome, and died in a hospital there of
want and, it is said, of foul diseases.[805]




                             CHAPTER XVII.

       CATHOLICISM AT GENEVA.--MARRIAGE OF CALVIN AT STRASBURG.

                          (END OF 1539-1540.)


[Sidenote: RESULTS OF CALVIN’S LETTER.]

The results of Calvin’s letter to Cardinal Sadoleto, and perhaps to
some extent of his relations with Caroli, were not slow to appear.
Henceforward the Catholics had little hope of regaining the ascendency
at Geneva. Some of them had previously dreamed of this. ‘At this
time,’ says the chronicler Rozet, ‘the priests _lifted up the horn_,
talking about the mass.’[806] It was believed that some priests who
had retired to the convents of Savoy had received orders to return
into the territory of the republic, for the purpose of re-establishing
the Romish worship. It may have been so; but all that appears from the
statement of Rozet is that certain priests, who had dwelt either in the
town or in the country, began at this time to defy the prohibitions of
the council and to say mass. The magistrate resolved to oppose this
recrudescence of Catholicism, and it is probable that this was partly
in consequence of Calvin’s letter. The priests who were really taking
active steps were doubtless few in number; but the council adopted
a general measure, and ordered that all the Catholic ecclesiastics
who were on their territory should appear before them on December 23
(1539). It was further ordered that all those who alleged that the
mass is good, and should not be able to maintain this assertion after
conference with the pastors, should be sent away to the place where
mass is sung (_là où on la chante_). ‘The tranquillity and security of
the state,’ says an historian, ‘did not permit them to tolerate any
other religion than that which had been established by the evangelical
Reformation.’[807] Thirty-three priests made their appearance, in
great alarm, at the Hôtel de Ville, and they did little honor to their
doctrine. The thought that if they declared that the mass was good they
would be banished, doubtless contributed to disincline them to it.
Each of them was interrogated, and the following are their answers.
‘Thomas Genoud!’ cried the secretary. The priest replied, ‘_The mass is
wicked_.’ Eight of his associates made the same answer pure and simple.
Others declared themselves likewise against this act of worship, but
added a few words. Ami Messier being called, said, ‘I wish to live and
die with Messieurs’ (members of the council); ‘I have not studied, but
I believe the mass to be wicked.’ Jean Cottand: ‘It is of no value.’
Guillaume Vellès: ‘I never believed in it.’ Don Propositi (Prevost):
‘It is good if Messieurs think it good; bad if Messieurs think it bad.
For the rest I am not a clerk, and finally ... it is wicked.’ Higher
respect for the magistrate it was not possible to show. Don Amici
and his brother: ‘At the good pleasure of Messieurs.’ The spirit of
accommodation could go no further. The priest Ramel: ‘It is wicked;
otherwise I should not have married.’ Claude de Lolme: ‘Wicked.’ Jean
Hugonier: ‘I should not have married if I believed it good.’ Guillaume
Marchand and Maurice de la Rue: ‘The mass is nothing worth, nor those
who wish to uphold it.’ Louis Bernard and Th. Collier: ‘Wicked.’ Some
of them emphasized their condemnation more strongly. Jacques l’Hoste:
‘The devil take it, for that’s all it’s fit for.’ Jean Louis Nicolas:
‘It is abominable.’ Jean Sorel: ‘It is the abhorrence of all the world,
and wicked.’

[Sidenote: THE PRIESTS BEFORE THE COUNCIL.]

Others were not so flippant, nor so ready to denounce their former
faith without embarrassment or constraint. Guillaume Maniglier said,
‘Neither good nor bad.’ Rodet Villanel said, ‘On my conscience, I could
not swear; but I esteem it as Messieurs do.’ Jean Volland: ‘I am an
inexperienced person, and ignorant of the matter. Since the learned are
at variance about it, I can not judge.’ Thomas Vandel: ‘I do not know.’
Pierre Bothy: ‘Alas! I could not say whether it is good or wicked; but
I have not said mass since it was prohibited.’ Antoine Alliod made his
reservations, and they were not bad: ‘I renounce it, saving the _Pater_
and the _Credo_, the Epistle and the Gospel.’ Etienne de la Maisonneuve
alone uttered a Christian sentiment: ‘The mass must be wicked, for
Jesus Christ has made the true redemption.’ Only one of them entirely
declined to condemn the mass, and still he did it prudently. Pierre
Papaz said, ‘I never called it wicked.’[808]

These were strange declarations, and the council, who expected to find
the clerks refractory, were extraordinarily surprised to hear them. It
was a complete breakdown. Compare all these priests, without faith and
without principle, with the reformers, men so noble and so courageous,
and it is easy to see to which side victory ought to belong. There was
barely one of the clerks, Papaz, who could be suspected of having a
wish to re-establish Catholicism. It is true that ten of those who had
been summoned did not present themselves; probably those who had been
the cause of the summons by the council. These men doubtless quitted
the territory without delay, and without waiting for an order to do so.

There was, however, one man who exhibited a character rather more
honorable, but he was a layman. On the very benches of the council, of
which he was a member, sat at that time ‘a papist of great influence
and reputation,’ says Rozet. This was the former syndic Balard. The
president, wishing to show no respect of persons, invited him likewise
to declare whether the mass was good or bad. ‘If I, Balard,’ replied
he, ‘knew certainly that the mass was good or bad, I should need no
pressing to say so, but as I do not know with certainty I ought not to
judge rashly, and you ought not to advise me to do so. I am resolved
heartily to believe all the articles of our faith, just as the town
believes them. I wish my body to be united with the body of the
city,[809] as becomes a loyal citizen. You ask me whether the mass is
good or bad; I reply that I believe in the Holy Spirit, in the holy
universal Church, and as they believe it I believe it.’

[Sidenote: EX-SYNDIC BALARD.]

This answer, which Balard gave in writing, did not satisfy the council,
which requested him again to say if the mass was bad, yes or no. ‘I
mean to live according to the gospel,’ replied he, ‘and to believe
in the Holy Spirit and the Church universal, and I cannot answer as
to what I do not know.’ This reply caused a great commotion. The
councillors were shocked and indignant that one of their members
should obstinately refuse to make the declaration which some priests
themselves had made, and should doubt of that which the council
asserted. It was resolved that Balard should be expelled the council,
and that he and his family should be compelled to leave the town and
its territories in ten days. The usher carried this decree to him.
Balard appeared the next day before the Council of the Two Hundred, the
decree needing confirmation by this body. The sentence had produced
some effect on him. He said, ‘Since it is the wish of the two councils
that I should say that the mass is bad, I say that the mass is bad.’
Then, as if to satisfy his conscience, he added, ‘And as for me, I am
worse still to judge rashly of that which I do not know. So I cry to
God for mercy, and I renounce Satan and all his works.’ At bottom the
second speech of Balard was a retractation of the first, since he added
that he did not know what he had just asserted. The reply was somewhat
ambiguous. But who could hear without emotion the cry ‘God have mercy
on me!’ which the honest syndic immediately uttered?

The next day (December 26) Balard had to appear once more. He now laid
down his arms, and said simply and categorically that the mass was bad.
After this he resumed his seat in the council. He did therefore as the
priests had done, only after having several times repeated previously
that he could not assert what he did now assert. The excuse offered for
him is doubtless that political interests demanded this declaration.
But the truth is too precious to be made a sacrifice to political
interests.

If the cause of Catholicism was declining, that of the reformer was
rising. In the course of March 1540 his friends wrote to him that he
might now return to Geneva. But he trembled at the thought of again
embarking on that troubled sea. ‘I had rather die a hundred times
elsewhere,’ he wrote to Farel, ‘than place myself on that cross on
which I should have to bear death a thousand times a day.[810] Oppose
with all your power the projects of those who will strive to get me
back to Geneva.’ Two months later, Viret, who ardently desired to see
Calvin resume a task of which he felt the importance, put forward a
pretext to draw him back to Geneva, and, expressing anxiety about the
health of his friend, who was really suffering from severe pains in the
head, conjured him to come to Geneva, as the air of the place would be
likely to strengthen him. ‘I could not refrain from smiling,’ Calvin
replied to him, ‘on reading that passage of thy letter. Thou wishest me
to go to Geneva for the sake of being in good health; why not rather
say, Hang thyself on the gallows? Better perish once for all than
be again in that place where I should be put to the torture without
ceasing.[811] If thou wishest well to me, my dear Viret, pray do not
make this proposal again.’

[Sidenote: CALVIN’S HOUSEHOLD TROUBLES.]

It must be told that at this period Calvin was taken up with a quite
different matter. He was now nine-and-twenty, and was thinking of
marriage. His home left much to be wished for. His servant was a
foolish, hotheaded woman, quick to utter insults, and sparing neither
her master nor those who came to see him. One day she spoke to Calvin’s
brother with so much impertinence that Anthony, unable to endure it,
went quietly out of the house, without anger; but declared that he
would not enter it again so long as that woman was in it. Calvin was
much grieved about it, and the servant-mistress, observing him, said,
‘Well, I’m going too,’ and quitted him.[812] It has been supposed
that Calvin’s nature drew him rather towards relations of friendship
with the brethren, the learned, and colleagues such as Farel, Viret,
Grynæus, Beza, and others, than to married life. If he had contended
against celibacy, he had not been in a hurry to escape from it; nay,
he even made a boast of it, saying, ‘People will not charge me with
having assailed Rome, as the Greeks besieged Troy, for the sake of a
woman.’ Doubtless, in wishing to marry he had above all before him
these words of the first pages of the Bible: _It is not good for the
man to be alone; I will make him an help meet for him_. He wished,
as he said himself, to be freed from the petty worries of life, to
the end that he might be able the better to apply himself to the
service of the Lord.[813] His friends seem to have been at this time
busying themselves more than he did about finding him a partner, and
their object seems to have been to rid him thus of the irksomeness of
housekeeping, for which he had little relish. But all that we know of
Calvin’s sentiments, and of his life with his wife, makes it plain
that he saw in marriage something far higher than the management of
a household. ‘It is a thing against nature,’ he said, ‘that anyone
should not love his wife, for God has ordained marriage in order that
of two there may be made one, one person; a result which, certainly,
no other alliance can bring about. When Moses says that a man shall
leave father and mother and cleave unto his wife, he shows that a man
ought to prefer marriage to every other union, as being the holiest of
all.’[814] It has been said that Calvin made a _mariage de raison_.
This seems to me doubtful, and every thing indicates at least that when
once married he had a genuine affection for his wife. There was in him
a lofty intellect, a sublime genius, but also that love of kindred,
those affections of the heart, which complete the great man.

As early as February 1539, Calvin’s friends at Strasburg wished him to
marry. He wrote himself to Farel that the lady would arrive shortly
after Easter, and expressed a wish to see him present to bless the
union. This marriage did not take place. Could it be because Calvin did
not find in that unknown lady the qualities which he sought for? This
appears probable from the circumstance that two or three months later
the ardent and energetic Farel, still unmarried though much older than
his friend, having made him another overture, the young doctor stated
to him what virtues he wished to find in a wife. ‘I am not,’ said he,
‘one of that mad kind of lovers who, when once they are smitten with
the beauty of a woman, are ready at the same time to dote foolishly
on her faults.[815] The only beauty which charms me in a woman is
chastity, modesty, submission, economy, patience, and the inclination
to be careful for the health of her husband. If then thou thinkest that
she of whom thou speakest possesses these qualities, follow up the
matter; but if thou dost not think so, say no more of it.’ In fact,
nothing more was said of it. Farel had not been fortunate.

[Sidenote: MARRIAGE PROJECTS.]

Among the connections of Calvin at Strasburg there was a German
patrician or noble, a very pious man, who felt the warmest affection
for Calvin and recognized him as a great man. The thought occurred to
him of marrying Calvin to his sister; and his wife, who likewise had
the highest opinion of the reformer, supported her husband with all
her influence. The young lady, Calvin said himself, was above him in
rank, and few men would have rejected so flattering a proposal. But the
rich dower did not allure the reformer, poor as he was. It was indeed
the very brilliancy of the match that made him hesitate. The young
maiden, who was probably not pious like her brother, was more struck
with Calvin’s mean appearance than with his high qualities, and was by
no means eager to yield to her brother’s wishes. Calvin perceived this.
He was afraid that the noble maiden would not easily forget her rank
and her education. He was also very sensitive on another point. The
wealthy young lady did not understand French. In this circumstance he
saw a way of escape without offence to the brother and sister-in-law,
and he told her brother, who appeared inclined to press him unduly
in the matter, that he required above all that the young lady should
undertake to learn the French language. She asked for time to consider
of it. The scheme failed, and Calvin, anxious to put an end to the
solicitations of the brother, thought of another person who was highly
spoken of, but whose qualifications seem not to have answered to her
high reputation. Calvin certainly wished to marry, but it must be with
a Christian woman. He thought of it frequently. During one of the
journeys which he made into Germany on religious affairs, sitting one
day at table with a few friends, one of whom was Melanchthon, the young
French doctor was dreamy and absent. ‘Our theologian,’ said the friend
of Luther, ‘is evidently thinking of marrying.’[816] The difficulty
that he experienced in finding such a wife as he wished for speaks in
his favor, and shows how much he thought of moral qualities. He was,
however, saddened and distressed about it. He questioned with himself
whether it would not be better to give up all thought of marrying. This
man, to whom it is the fashion to attribute a heart so dry, so hard,
shows us by his very sufferings, which were soon succeeded by great
joy, what wealth of true feeling and of tender affection lay in his
heart. But it was precisely at the time when he nearly despaired that
he found what he was longing for.

[Sidenote: IDELETTE DE BURE.]

There was at that time at Strasburg a pious, grave, and virtuous woman,
living in retirement, esteemed by all who knew her, and particularly
by Bucer; a most choice woman, says Theodore Beza.[817] She came from
Liége and her name was Idelette de Bure. Lambert de Bure, probably one
of her kinsfolk, had been banished from Liége in 1533, with six other
citizens, because they professed the Gospel.[818] It is known that
Liége was among those cities of the Netherlands in which the awakening
had been most remarkable. Idelette was a widow. Her husband, Jean
Storder, had been amongst the number of those who called themselves
Spirituals. Bucer, it appears, had introduced Calvin to the family, in
the hope, doubtless, of enlightening Storder. Calvin had held private
conversations with him, and the Belgian had been converted to the true
Gospel by the ministry of the reformer. Idelette had probably also
been converted at the same period. The like change was wrought in
many of their fellow-religionists. ‘He had the happiness of bringing
to the faith _a very large number who were directed to him from all
quarters_,’[819] and amongst others an ex-abbé named Paul Volse, to
whom Erasmus had dedicated, in 1518, his _Chevalier Chrétien_, and who
was a minister at Strasburg. Idelette paid to her children all the
attention of the tenderest mother, and at the same time administered
consolation to those who were in affliction. Calvin had observed
in her a deep-seated faith, an affection full of devotedness, and a
Christian courage which enabled her to face all the perils to which the
confession of Jesus Christ at that time exposed her. This distinguished
woman, as Theodore Beza calls her, was exactly such a one as Calvin
wanted. Unfortunately there was one thing which was wanting to her, as
also to Calvin--good health. But the soul of Idelette was prospering;
and the reformer asked for her hand.

The nuptials were celebrated about the end of August 1540, with a
certain solemnity. Calvin’s friends, and they were many, testified
their sympathy with him. Some deputies even came from Neuchâtel to
attend the marriage. The friends of the bridegroom in France likewise
took part on the occasion. ‘The tidings of thy marriage,’ wrote one
of his old fellow students at the university of Bourges, ‘was very
pleasant to us. As thou hast found according to thy wish an upright
and faithful wife, endowed with the virtues to which thou attachest so
much value, we hope that this union will be a source of happiness to
thee.’ It was so. From the beginning of his married life Calvin felt
happy in having a faithful companion who served the Lord with him, who
loved her husband, and sought to make life peaceful and sweet to him.
The happiness which Calvin enjoyed at this time Idelette gave him to
the last. He prized ever more and more highly the treasure which God
had intrusted to him. He called Idelette ‘the excellent companion of my
life,[820] the ever-faithful assistant of my ministry.’ ‘Never,’ adds
he, ‘did she throw the least hindrance in my way.’ Her greatness of
soul filled him with admiration.[821] He understood well that saying
of the Bible, that a wise woman is a crown to her husband, and that
_whoso findeth a wife findeth a good thing and obtaineth favor of the
Lord_.

Catherine von Bora and Idelette de Bure, the wives of the two great
reformers, eminent women, whose surnames are nearly alike, were not
alike in person or in character. There was also a marked difference in
the way in which their husbands spoke of them. Catherine is frequently
mentioned in Luther’s letters to his friends, often, it is true, with
a touch of archness. Sometimes he calls her _Herr Kathe_. Calvin, on
the contrary, seldom speaks of Idelette. We may say indeed that Calvin
in his letters, as in his life, was always swayed by one sovereign
thought, to which all others had to yield: the work of God, the glory
of Jesus Christ, this was the aim of his life. All that concerned his
mere personal existence and his domestic circumstances was eclipsed
by Jesus Christ, that sun of righteousness which he delighted to
contemplate and exalt. There is however another explanation of the
fact. What Calvin most highly prized in Idelette was ‘the _hidden man_
of the heart, the incorruptibility of a meek and quiet spirit,’ her
modesty. ‘Nothing is more becoming to women than a meek and peaceful
spirit,’ he said; ‘we know what kind of creature a bold and obstinate
woman is, who, from pride, vanity, and wantonness, is fond of showing
herself off. Happy is the woman whose style of dress is modest, who
does not go gadding about the streets, but keeps the house because of
her love to her husband and her children.’ Calvin being happy, and
feeling respect for the modesty and humility that he found in Idelette,
no more thought of speaking of her in his letters than of seeing her
gadding about the streets.

[Sidenote: ASSEMBLY AT HAGENAU.]

Happy both in this Christian union and in the sphere of action which
opened before him at Strasburg and in Germany, Calvin thought less
than ever of returning to Geneva. In fact his intercourse with Germany
became more frequent. In June 1540, in accordance with the decision
come to at Frankfort, a new assembly was held at Hagenau in Alsace,
at which the doctors of the two parties were to seek a good basis of
agreement. The Protestant princes, summoned too late, were not present,
but their envoys and theologians came. Calvin went, ‘by way of rest,’
he says, as if for relaxation. He was rejoiced to see the Protestant
doctors ‘thoroughly united together.’ They held several consultations
among themselves on the way to establish discipline in the Church. This
was doubtless at Calvin’s instigation. ‘This will be,’ said he, ‘the
most weighty subject for our consideration.’ As Luther, Melanchthon,
and other doctors were absent as well as the princes, nothing was
done; ‘but each one promised to exert himself to the end that at some
meeting attention should be paid to it.’ Cruciger, a colleague of
Luther and Melanchthon, who was present at Hagenau, was astonished
at the knowledge and activity of Calvin. In fact, nothing that
concerned the evangelical cause escaped him. He perceived distinctly
the contrivances of politicians. ‘Our adversaries,’ he said, ‘wish
to extend their league and to weaken ours, but God will avert that
misfortune. Our friends seek the enlargement of the kingdom of Christ,
and will not give way. Some Catholics desire nothing but war, and the
pope has caused 300,000 ducats to be offered to begin it. The emperor,’
he thinks, ‘would like nothing better than to crush the forces of
Germany, in order to subdue it with greater ease. But on the one side
the emperor is so involved that he dare not undertake a war, and on the
other all the electors wish to have things quietly settled.’ If Calvin
were not particularly pleased with the pope, he was pleased with the
archbishops. The following passage is striking enough for quotation:
‘The Archbishops of Mayence and Treves love peace and the liberties
of the country, and they think that they would be lost if the emperor
had subdued us.’ This shows in Calvin a fair temper, a man free from
prejudice.[822] ‘The Archbishop of Cologne is not among the worst,’
says he, ‘for he knows that the Church ought to be reformed, and sees
clearly that we are superior in respect of truth.’




                            CHAPTER XVIII.

                   GENEVA.--DISSENSION AND SEVERITY.

                                (1540.)


At the same time that Calvin’s reputation was rising in other
countries, the judgment formed at Geneva of the men who had compelled
him to quit the town was daily becoming more unfavorable, and ere long
opinion was altogether opposed to them. ‘The time was come,’ says
Theodore Beza, ‘when the Lord had determined to have pity on the Church
of Geneva.’[823]

[Sidenote: BERNE AND GENEVA.]

When, in 1536, the Bernese had repulsed the troops of Savoy and
insured the independence of Geneva, an arrangement was effected
between these two states respecting five or six villages belonging to
the priory of St. Victor, of which Bonivard had been the last prior.
Geneva had claimed the sovereignty, and had conceded to Berne the
_rights of ancient custom_ which had belonged to Savoy. The treaty
not being sufficiently clear, the Bernese claimed prerogatives which
the Genevese disputed with them. Consequently, on March 6, 1539, the
council of Geneva sent to Berne Ami de Chapeaurouge, Jean Lullin and
Monathon, all three of them opponents of Calvin. The first two had
indeed been syndics in 1538, and as such had taken the lead in the
banishment of the reformers. They were to settle the matters in
dispute, but ‘without infringing on the franchises of the town or on
the treaty of 1536.’ These delegates signed at Berne, on March 30, a
treaty comprising twenty-one articles, ‘the most part of which,’ says
the syndic Gautier, who is moderate in his account, ‘were humiliating
to the Genevese, and deprived them of their rights over those
territories.’ The first article of the treaty said in fact, ‘To us of
Berne the chief lordship, that is to say, _the sovereignty_ over men
and goods, is entirely to belong.’ The three Genevese were far less
clever as politicians than the Bernese, and we prefer to attribute
their error to their inferior diplomatic skill rather than to treason.
On their return to Geneva they merely reported to the council ‘that
they had done their work well (_avaient bien besogné_), and that the
contract entered into would shortly be brought to Berne.’ It was
strange that these plenipotentiaries not only should not present the
treaty, but still more should not state _viva voce_ what it contained.
‘As they had trifled with the orders which they had received,’ says
Gautier, ‘they were afraid of being completely ruined if they gave
an exact account of their management, and they hoped by delaying the
matter to obliterate the recollections of what might be criminal
in their proceedings.’[824] They reckoned among the members of the
council many of their kinsfolk and friends. Their word was taken. These
three councillors, the signatories of the articles, were consequently
called the _Articulants_; and the people, adopting a word almost the
same in sound and more familiar to them, called them the _Artichauts_
(Artichokes). This designation was extended to the whole party opposed
to Calvin, which was at this time in the ascendency.[825]

About two months later a Bernese _bailli_ (De Thiez) having caused a
man belonging to the estates of St. Victor to be put to the torture,
the council of Geneva complained of it, and the _bailli_ immediately
justified himself by appealing from them to the treaty concluded
at Berne. The Genevese magistrates, who were not acquainted with
it, sent Monathon to procure it. He brought it back, but it was in
German! The document was returned, in order to be translated into
French; and when the articles were at last read in the council many
murmured, and said that most of those points were contrary to the
rights and the prerogatives of the town. The three deputies justified
themselves by asserting that this document was not the one which they
had signed. This statement was credited. The council declared that it
did not accept the paper, and decreed that the three _articulants_
should return to Berne to demand explanations. But in vain did the
two councils implore and even command Lullin to go; he declared that
he would sooner quit the town than consent to be a delegate to Berne.
He had private reasons for not having a mind to this mission. Three
other notables were associated with De Chapeaurouge and Monathon. The
two _articulants_ represented to the Bernese that they had not heard
the articles couched in such terms. But the Bernese replied that it
was the genuine treaty, and that they would have the council of Geneva
cited before judges charged to investigate the difficulties existing
between the two towns, in order to get it condemned to sign and seal
the treaty. Lambert, one of the deputies who had accompanied Monathon
and De Chapeaurouge to Berne, heard, in a conversation with some
people of the town, that at the time of drawing them up, Jean Lullin
had consented to the articles in German, and had got them passed by
his colleagues without telling them in French what they contained.
From this one must infer that Jean Lullin, the only one of the three
who knew German, remained responsible. The other two, however, still
lay under the imputation, it must be confessed, of incredible
thoughtlessness. On April 6 the deputies made their report to the
council.

[Sidenote: QUARREL ABOUT THE TREATY.]

The Bernese, sure of their case, continued to enforce their rights of
sovereignty, and took pleasure in annoying the Genevese in various
ways. They even carried their ill-will to the length of cruelty.
Two murderers, subjects of St. Victor, having been condemned by the
Genevese magistrates to be beheaded, the Bernese _bailli_ substituted
the rack, and sent to Geneva the executioner’s bill to be paid.
Discontent with the government party was increasing from day to day.
People said that the treaty made at Berne was an act of treason. Was
it possible that after having ruined religion by expelling Farel and
Calvin, the same party should ruin the state as well, by sacrificing
its most precious rights? Some went farther still. Bonnet, a member of
the Two Hundred, exclaimed, ‘The council mean to deliver up the town to
the lords of Berne.’ For this rash speech he was put in prison.[826]
But it served to increase the prevailing irritation. Many members of
the Two Hundred, among whom was Claude Bonna, declared to that council
that they would never allow the articles drawn up at Berne to receive
the seal of the republic. The matter at stake was the maintenance of
the honor of Geneva, her pre-eminence and the justice of her cause,
perhaps of her very existence. The friends of Calvin declared that the
powerful town of Berne should not trample their country under foot. The
opposition to the government had become so strong that, in the sitting
of August 25, all the members of the Two Hundred cried unanimously, ‘We
will not submit to these articles, considering that they are opposed to
our liberties, our franchises, and our good customs.’[827]

The Bernese, annoyed and irritated by the constant refusals of Geneva,
announced at the beginning of January 1540 that, having an authentic
document, they summoned their allies of Geneva to Lausanne, for the
29th of the month, in order that the cause might be decided by judges,
two from each town. Geneva, on the 21st, named De la Rive and Gerbel
to go to Lausanne with five assistants. On the 25th the general
council rejected the treaty, prohibited the deputies from accepting
a judicial decision, and ordered them to say to the Bernese that the
people _would set fire to the city_ rather than accept the articles.
Matters got worse and worse. Berne was inflexible. On the 26th, at nine
o’clock in the evening, a Genevese, Béguin, arrived at full speed from
Lausanne with important despatches. The general council, assembled on
the following day, was greatly excited by them. They caused the three
_articulants_ to be arrested, and Béguin was instructed to inform the
Bernese. But the latter commanded their judges to proceed, and the
Genevese were condemned for contumacy to seal the treaty and to pay
the costs. The gravity of the situation was at length understood at
Geneva. The very day, January 27, on which the judgment was delivered
at Lausanne, the general council, suddenly convoked by the tones of the
great bell at one o’clock in the morning, had decreed that the deputies
should sit as judges. But when this news arrived sentence was already
given. They had dispensed with the Genevese.

[Sidenote: INDIGNATION AT GENEVA.]

Great was the consternation at Geneva. On Sunday, February 1, it was
resolved to close all dissension at home by a general reconciliation,
in token of which the citizens took each other by the hand.
Chapeaurouge, Lullin, and Monathon were set at liberty on giving bail,
and Jean Philippe was named captain-general. This internal peace,
brought about by the war with which they were menaced from without,
was solemnized by a procession of the people to the sound of the drum
through the whole town. The ministers urged the appointment of a day
of prayer to celebrate and confirm the reconciliation. But this peace
was not rooted in the depth of their hearts. ‘Nevertheless,’ says
Rozet, ‘people still heard talk of several fights in the town,’ and the
son of the captain-general killed a citizen. The more violent men, when
they saw the dangers to which the treason or the thoughtlessness of the
_articulants_ exposed them, exclaimed, ‘Cut off their heads, pack them
all three in one trunk, and send them to Berne.’[828]

‘Meanwhile,’ says a contemporary biographer, ‘the Lord was about to
execute his judgments at Geneva in expressly punishing those who
while they were syndics had been the cause of driving away Farel
and Calvin.’[829] The councillor De Watteville, De Diesbach, and De
Graffenried, deputies of Berne, on April 16, declared to the Two
Hundred that the Bernese wished nothing so much as to give pleasure to
Geneva, and that, without taking advantage of the sentence pronounced
at Lausanne, they offered to discuss the affair anew. The general
council having been convoked on April 25 to decide the matter, no way
was found of coming to an understanding. These interminable disputes
with Berne (it took years to settle the question) had aroused the anger
of the Genevese against the _articulants_ who were the cause of them.
They believed these men to be more culpable than they really were. The
assembly was in violent agitation. Groups were formed, and transports
of wrath burst forth. ‘Justice! justice on the traitors!’ they cried.
They demanded that, before any deliberation, these deputies should be
again committed to prison. The three culprits were themselves present
in the council. The captain-general, Jean Philippe, going up to them
advised them in a whisper to go out instantly and make their escape.
The Little Council ordered their immediate incarceration. They had
signed the undertaking to appear when called for; but overcome with
fright, they disguised themselves and quitted the town in great haste,
thus violating the pledge which they had given. When the lieutenant
went to their homes to arrest them, they had disappeared. The tidings
were at once carried to the general council. ‘Let them be summoned
to appear by sound of trumpet,’ said a citizen, ‘and let seals be
affixed on their houses.’ ‘Yes! yes!’ cried the people; ‘so be it!’ The
assembly of the people being dissolved, a great concourse of citizens
surrounded the town hall and demanded justice with loud voices. The
public crier, traversing the streets, summoned the three deputies to
appear in three hours, in default of which they would be immediately
brought to trial. The Bernese having expressed to the council their
astonishment that this citation had been made without a word said to
them about it; ‘Ah!’ was the reply, ‘if we are slow to execute the
decision of the general council, the people will fall on us!’ The
general irritation extended at the same time to the pastors who had
taken the place of Farel and Calvin. These men were alarmed at it,
and, on April 30, presenting themselves before the council, they made
a statement of the reproaches which were heaped on them, and requested
their discharge. After turning away from the reformers, people were
now turning to them again. ‘At this time,’ says Rozet, a poor woman,
a foreigner, went about the town crying, What God keeps is well
kept.’[830]

The three fugitives having been summoned with sound of trumpet, for
three days in succession, and failing to appear, the solicitor-general
presented their indictment in seventy-four counts. Thirty-two witnesses
made their depositions; and on June 5 De Chapeaurouge, Lullin, and
Monathon, were condemned by default to be beheaded, as forgers and
rebels, who had been the cause and might again be the cause of great
evils to the state. Capital punishment was readily inflicted in the
sixteenth century; but the accused had fled, and it was a long way from
the sentence to the execution.

[Sidenote: JEAN PHILIPPE.]

The party which was favorable to the three _articulants_ and hostile
to the reformers continued to exist in Geneva, and had for its chief a
capable man, the captain-general Jean Philippe, who was syndic in 1538,
with Jean Lullin and Ami de Chapeaurouge. These three men, with the
violent Richardet, had, as we have seen, got Farel and Calvin banished,
and after having done much harm to the Church, had not hesitated to
involve the state in the most cruel perplexities. Jean Philippe, by his
violence, was on the point of still further increasing the troubles of
the city. ‘A rich man, and not niggardly,’ says Bonivard, ‘he was very
liberal to his comrades, especially those of the sword; and this made
him beloved of all. A man of courage for action, he was not prudent
in his projects, and he no more hesitated to risk his person than his
purse. Imprudent and impudent, hasty to believe, slow to disbelieve,
as soon as any hectoring fellow, among those whom he thought fit for
the battle, made a report to him, he believed it. And he was hard to
be undeceived because he had not capacity for appreciating a sound
reason; and this caused him to do many rash things.’ Such was the
man who had at his beck the party which, after having been supreme
in Geneva, had just received so severe a check. Jean Philippe could
not, without annoyance, see the sentence carried out against his
colleagues; and he understood that the result of it must be the ruin
of his whole party, unless he succeeded in arresting the course of
the popular torrent which was now rushing in a direction opposed to
them. Discontented and murmuring against those who had obliged Lullin
and De Chapeaurouge to take flight, he was a prey to the bitterest
apprehensions. After the sentence, Philippe and his adherents ‘banded
themselves together,’ says Bonivard, ‘and waited for an opportunity of
vengeance and of reinstating _the three_ in their former honors. Their
party, in defiance of their opponents, held banquets in the public
places. After all this thunder there must needs be rain, hail, and fall
of thunderbolts, to clear the sky.’ The storm indeed did not fail to
burst forth.

[Sidenote: A RIOT.]

A phenomenon was at this time visible at Geneva which has been produced
in almost all nations; the conquerors were divided amongst themselves.
The party which in 1538 had banished the reformers was divided into
two. The more fiery minds were for pushing their victory to an
extreme, the more discreet, on the other hand, slackened their pace
and restrained their passions. The impetuous young men of Geneva were
irritated at seeing the leaders under whom they had fought condemned
to death and fugitives. On the day after their condemnation, Sunday,
June 16, many Genevese, according to custom, were assembled on the
plain of Plainpalais, situated at the gates of the town, and were
practising archery. Some of them meeting Jean Philippe and his friends,
shouted at them, ‘Artichokes!’ It will not be forgotten that this was
the popular nickname given to the _articulants_. This little word did
a great deal of mischief. ‘The tongue,’ says Calvin, ‘carries a man
away and sweeps him along like a flood, just as wild unbroken horses
whirl along a chariot with such force and swiftness that nothing can
stop it.’ This is what now occurred at Geneva. The nickname greatly
annoyed the captain-general, and he swore to take vengeance. ‘There
are three hundred of us who will one day arise and hamstring so many
of these evangelists and Lutherans that it shall be a thing never to
be forgotten.’ This saying was attributed to him, but he afterwards
denied it. The captain-general, on returning from Plainpalais, went
to sup with some of his friends at the hotel _de l’Ange_; while other
adherents of his were eating and drinking at his expense at the hotel
_du Brochet_. Some of them, after leaving the table, met some citizens
of the opposite party on the bridge over the Rhone. ‘Nothing more than
hard words passed between them,’ says Bonivard, ‘with the exception
of Jean Philippe, who seized a halberd, and, as though he were out
of his mind, without distinguishing friend from foe, struck blows
right and left, and wounded two or three persons.’ Then this fierce
partisan crossed the Rhone to go to St. Gervais, where most of his
familiar associates lived. He summoned and got them together, a grave
proceeding for a captain-general, and passing the bridge with them,
reached the square of La Fusterie. There he found a large body of his
adversaries. A conflict began. Jean Philippe struck other blows. ‘With
the point of his halberd he wounded one Jean d’Abères in the breast,’
says Bonivard, ‘so seriously that he had to be carried to his house.’
One Jean de Lesclefs gave with his partisan a blow on the head to Ami
Perrin, ‘a citizen,’ says Bonivard, ‘who was fond of being splendidly
attired and of good living, and who at this time belonged to the party
of honest men.’ Claude of Geneva, a friend of Perrin, discharged a
pistol at Lesclefs, and the shot entering near the heart killed him.
The captain-general, repulsed, withdrew to his own house with his
adherents, who kept firing their arquebuses from within. The syndic
Philippin, wishing to allay the disturbance, was wounded by these men,
and a servant of one of their own number, putting his head out at
the window, was also struck. It was very generally believed that the
captain-general had formed a conspiracy to upset the government which
had just condemned his friends. It is difficult to decide. We may,
however, suppose that it was a riot rather than a conspiracy.[831]

At nine o’clock in the evening of the same day the council convoked
the Two Hundred, and gave orders to guard the town-gates to prevent
the flight of the culprits. The next day, _at five_ in the morning,
the Council of the Two Hundred held a sitting, gave orders that the
citizens should assemble in arms before the town-house to support their
decisions, and commanded the officers of justice to go to the house of
the captain-general to arrest him and all who should be with him. But
Jean Philippe, well aware that the position of a commander-in-chief
of the Genevese militia, who placed himself in open and armed revolt
against the government, was a very grave one, had quitted his house,
escaped by the roofs, and thus reached the hostelry of the _Tour
Perce_, which belonged to a brother of Lullin. As the agents of the
council did not find him either at home or elsewhere, proclamation
was made in the town with sound of trumpet, that whosoever might know
where he was, was to disclose it. The magistrate was informed, it is
not known by whom, that the captain-general was concealed in the _Tour
Perce_. ‘At once everybody was off thither,’ says Bonivard; ‘then they
searched for Philippe from cellar to garret, and he was at last found
lying in the stable under the hay.’ They led him immediately to the
syndics, who were waiting for him at the door. They had him seized by
the guards and taken to the _Evêché_ (a prison). But it was effected
with great difficulty, for it was all that the guards with their
halberds and the syndics with their bâtons could do to prevent the
people from killing him in their hands. ‘Here we may see an instance,’
adds the prisoner of Chillon, ‘of the trust we should place in a
people.’[832]

[Sidenote: TRIAL OF JEAN PHILIPPE.]

The witnesses were heard, and Jean Philippe underwent an examination
on the criminal acts with which he stood charged. These acts were
proved and he confessed them. The whole town was stirred. The people
cried aloud for justice and said ‘that they would do execution on the
murderers if the tribunals failed to do it. The preachers themselves
exhorted to pray and to execute justice.’[833] A scene at once pathetic
and terrible occurred to raise still higher the general excitement.
Jean d’Abères having sunk under his wounds, ‘his wife caused the body
of her husband to be carried on a bench to the front of the town-house,
and accompanied it crying incessantly, Justice! justice! justice!
weeping and smiting herself.’[834] Her children were round her, weeping
and crying out as she did. A dead body, and especially the body of
a husband and father, surrounded by those who loved him, has always
great power to touch the heart. The solicitor-general presented his
bill of indictment. It set forth that Jean Philippe ‘had always been
esteemed a seditious man, who had been accustomed to gather round him
all the restless spirits; that he had assembled them on the previous
Sunday, taking up arms against the city of Geneva; that in order to
accomplish his murderous intentions he had placed armed men in his
house; that he was a murderer and voluntary homicide, his hands dyed
with blood; that out of the fulness of his heart he had uttered these
words or the like of them, ‘I will kill so many people that I shall be
surfeited.’ The solicitor-general moved in conclusion that the council
should execute justice immediately, ‘as shameless and tumultuous
proceedings and horrid enterprises, and in the same manner as in cases
of high treason.’ Sentence was pronounced by the syndic Etienne de
Chapeaurouge, nephew of one of the fugitives. Philippe was condemned
‘to have his head severed from shoulders till the soul was separated
from the body.’ The execution took place the same day. De Chapeaurouge,
after having pronounced sentence, absented himself from the council,
and one or two others likewise withdrew.

Thus, of the four syndics who had decreed the banishment of Farel and
Calvin, two had been condemned as forgers and rebels, and a third
had just been executed as a mover of sedition and a homicide. There
remained the fourth of them, Richardet. He had united force with
ridicule, and had said ironically to Calvin when expelling him, ‘The
gates of the town are wide enough for you to go out.’ As he had taken
part in the sedition of Jean Philippe, he took fright and wished to
make his escape. Unwilling to go out by the gates of the town, however
wide they were, for fear of being recognized and arrested, ‘he let
himself down through a window in the town walls,’ says Rozet, ‘burst
(_se creva_) because he was heavy, and did not live long after.’ ‘As he
was very fat,’ says Gautier, ‘the rope broke, and the fall caused him a
contusion of which he shortly after died.’[835]

It is hardly possible to avoid being struck with the fate of these four
men. The Greeks conceived the idea of a goddess, Nemesis, charged with
the duty of overthrowing an insolent prosperity and of avenging crimes,
who winged her way through the air, encompassed by serpents, provided
with torches and inflicting terrible vengeance. ‘We cannot pass over,’
says Rozet, ‘the remarkable judgment of God on the four syndics of
the year 1538, who being elected by the people as adversaries of the
religion of the reformation sworn to, had banished the ministers and
routed their friends. Two years later, in one and the same year,
in the month of June, all four of them, at the instigation of the
people themselves, came to confusion and ruin by their crimes.’[836]
History can hardly furnish a more striking illustration of the truth
proclaimed by the great poet, ‘Punishment, though lame, seldom fails to
overtake the guilty.’

[Sidenote: THE WAYS OF GOD.]

However, in our opinion, the _articulants_, though chargeable with
carelessness and incompetency, were not guilty of treachery. On the
other hand, it is not fair to attribute to the friends of Farel and
Calvin some odious acts of which they were completely innocent. It
has been alleged that on the third day after the execution of Jean
Philippe, the most religious persons ‘publicly celebrated their victory
by a feast at the town hall.’ Strong evidence would be necessary
to establish a fact so adapted to arouse in honorable men aversion
and indignation; but not a single document is known in which it is
mentioned.[837] We are bound to say, however, that the verdict of
contemporaries was more severe than our own. ‘These men,’ says Theodore
Beza, ‘having been cast away like vile dregs, the city began to ask
again for its Calvin and Farel.’[838] All was in course of preparation
for their return to it. Some vacancies having been made in the council
by the blows which had just been struck, men were appointed who were
friendly to the Reformation, and from that time their party formed the
majority. The far-seeing intelligence of Calvin had foretold that the
ascendency of his adversaries would be of short duration; and his word
was fulfilled.

The ways of God are deep and mysterious. Two years previously the
work of the reformer appeared to be brought to a stand in Geneva.
His victorious enemies held up their heads in the general council;
their power seemed invincible; and the few citizens who dared to
declare themselves on the side of the banished ministers found
themselves threatened and prosecuted, and were compelled to retire
into silence or to flee their country. The reformers were wandering
about as exiles in the cantons of Switzerland, not knowing where to
seek refuge. But time passed on, and the state of things was altered.
The authors of the proscription sank beneath the weight of their
faults, and were proscribed in their turn. Geneva was weary of leaders
without intelligence, and rejected them. No longer able to face the
perils gathering around it, the city will soon recall and receive as
liberators the men whom she has driven away as enemies of her freedom.
Calvin, on his part, had found in exile not weakness but strength. God
had removed him to a vaster scene, where his horizon was widened. His
thought had been elevated, his soul strengthened and purified. He had
seen Germany, and had played a part, not one of the least, in her great
assemblies; he had held communication with Melanchthon, and established
a connection between the German Reformation and that of the Swiss
cantons and of France. The differences between the two great movements
had grown less; the communion of spirit had been strengthened. On both
sides a reciprocal influence had been felt. In the next volume we shall
see Calvin return to his post a greater and stronger man, more master
of himself, no less firm and no less determined, once more to undertake
his task and to conduct it to a happy end.


                       END OF THE SIXTH VOLUME.




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FOOTNOTES:

[1] ‘Tanta sanctitatis opinione apud omnes vixerant, ut ... cellæ in
templa commutarentur.’--Buchanan, _Rer. Scot. Hist._, lib. iv. 35 Rex.

[2] ‘Nullus est Papa.’ (Walter Bower, lib. xv. c. 20.) Knox, _Hist. of
the Ref._, i. 498.

[3] ‘Paulus Crawar, in sacris litteris et in allegatione Bibliæ
promptus et exercitatus.’--_Scoti-Chronicon_, vol. ii. p. 495.

[4] Knox, _Hist. of the Ref._, i. 6.

[5] ‘Sacerdotem domi habebat, qui ipsi et familiæ Novum Testamentum
lingua vernacula prælegebat.’--(_Regi Scotorum Jacobo V._, Alexander
Alesius.) There is no paging.

[6] ‘Terroribus monachorum non nihil perturbatus.’--(_Regi Scotorum
Jacobo V._, Alexander Alesius.)

[7] ‘Ut rex, etiam surgens, complexus sit mulierem.’--_Ibid._

[8]

    For once the eagle England being in prey,
    To her unguarded nest the weasel Scot
    Comes sneaking, and so sucks her princely eggs.
            --Shakespeare, _Hen. V._, Act i. sc. 2.

[9] ‘Hepburnus, Gavini ministris pulsis, arcem valido præsidio
communit.’--Buchanan, lib. xiii, 106 Rex.

[10] Buchanan, _Ibid._ Spotswood, _Hist. of the Church of Scotland_.
London, 1677, pp. 61, 62.

[11] Knox, Buchanan, Fox, Spotswood, McCrie.

[12] Alesius relates this story in his ‘Epistola dedicatoria _Comment.
in Johannem_.’ Bayle, in the article _Alesius_, says, ‘Il avait été
préservé de la mort, par miracle, dans sa jeunesse.’

[13] ‘Hamiltonium familia regium quoque sanguinem attingente,
natus.’--_Bezæ Icones_. This is the opinion of Pinkerton, McCrie, and
other authors. Others suppose that Sir Patrick Hamilton (of Kincavil)
was a natural son of Lord Hamilton. But in a charter of April 1498 he
is called _brother-german_ of James Lord Hamilton, eldest son of his
father, which seems plainly to mean that he was not half-brother by the
father’s side; and in a charter of January 1513 he is distinguished
from another Hamilton, a _natural_ son of the same lord. This last
circumstance doubtless gave rise to a _qui pro quo_.

[14] Pitscottie, _Hist. of Scotland_. Leland’s _Collectanea_. Lorimer,
_Patrick Hamilton_.

[15] The inscription sought and found in the _Acta rectoria_ of the
University of Paris by Professor Rosseeuw Saint-Hilaire, at the request
of Professor Lorimer, proves that Hamilton studied at Paris.

[16] ‘My great-grandfather, gudeschir, and father have served your
Lordship’s predecessors, and some of them have dyed under their
standartis’.--John Knox, _Hist. of the Reformation_, edited by D.
Laing, ii. p. 323.

[17] Not to the university of St. Andrews, as was formerly supposed.
‘The name occurs ... in the year 1522.... He was seventeen years of
age.’--M’Crie, _Life of Knox_, Note B.

[18] ‘Velut seditionis fax, volitaret armatus.’--Buchanan.

[19]

    ‘.... At tu, beata Gallia,
    Salve, bonarum blanda nutrix artium,’ &c.
                 --Buchanani _Poemata_. Adventus in Galliam.


[20] ‘Potes hunc tyrannum occidere.’--Major, _Sentent._, fol. 139.

[21] ‘Reges legitimos ab initio creavimus, leges et nobis et illis
æquas imposuimus.’--_De Jure Regni apud Scotos_, p. 24.

[22] ‘Juvenis ingenio summo et eruditione singulari.’--Buchanan, _Scot.
Hist._, p. 494.

[23] Margaret to Henry VIII.--_State Papers_, iv. p. 17.

[24] _State Papers_, pp. 51, 52, 70, 71.--‘Albany embarked probably on
May 31.’--_Ibid._, p. 77.

[25] _Acta parl. Scot._, vol. ii. p. 255.--_State Papers_, vol. iv. p.
387.

[26] ‘The young king cannot by himself rede an English letter.’--_State
Papers_, iv. p. 368.

[27] ‘They are at all times of contrary opinion.’--_Ibid._, iv. p. 362.

[28] ‘May destroy the king, my son, and me.’--_Ibid._, iv. pp. 81, 169,
188, 227, 237.

[29] ‘We may have your supplications direct for us unto His
Holyness.’--Margaret to Wolsey, _State Papers_, iv. p. 452.

[30] _State Papers_, iv. pp. 457-458.--Scott, _Hist. of Scotland_, i.
ch. xxv.--Lindsay, _Chronicles_.

[31] ‘I went suddenly thitherward, thinking that I would cause to make
a good fire of them.’--MS. Cotton, Galba B., vi. fol. 4.

[32] _State Papers_, iv. p. 561.

[33] ‘Most part to the town of St. Andrews.’--Cotton, MS. Calig. ii. 77.

[34] ‘Disputing, holding, and maintaining divers heresies of Martin
Luther.’--Sentence Pronounced against Hamilton. Fox, _Acts_, iv. p. 560.

[35] _Certain articles preached by him_ (_ibid._) It is clear that
these articles were preached as early as 1527, before Hamilton had
quitted Scotland. The sentence states: ‘Faithful inquisition being made
in _Lent last past_.’ It is of Lent _last past_ that it speaks. Now the
sentence was of the last February. The Lent of 1528 was hardly begun.
Besides, the sentence states that Hamilton, after having preached,
_passed forth of the realm to other parts_; which decides the question.

[36] Luther, _Ep. to the Galatians_.

[37] _See_ ‘The Sentence against P. Hamilton.’--Fox, _Acts_, iv. p. 560.

[38] Fox, _Acts_, iv. p. 560.

[39] ‘Unicus et pietatis et literarum vindex.’--Registers of the
University of Marburg, A. D. 1527.

[40] ‘Ad instaurandas liberales disciplinas.’--_Ibid._

[41] ‘Conference and familiarity.’--Fox, _Acts_, iv. p. 558.

[42] _Paradoxa Lamberti_, in Schultetus, _Annales Evangel_.

[43] ‘Cautelæ impiæ.’--Baum, _Lambert d’Avignon_, p. 152.

[44] ‘P. Hamilton, of the county of Linlithgow (in which Kincavil is
situated), a Scotchman, Master of Arts of Paris.’ The three names may
still be seen in the registers under the numbers 37, 38, 39.

[45] ‘Ex illustrissima Hamiltonum familia, quæ ex summis regni Scotiæ
et regi sanguine proximius juncta est.’ Baum, _Lambert d’Avignon_, p.
152.

[46] ‘Prorsus arbitrarer me extinctum iri.’--Luther, _Epp._ iv. p. 187.

[47] ‘Ut non deserat peccatorem suum.’--_Ibid._

[48] ‘Viel ein _aerger_ Buch wider das Papsthum.’--Statement of Jonas.

[49] ‘Hans Luft jam nono die ægrotat.’--Luther, _Epp._ iv. p. 189.

[50] ‘Fere expiravit inter brachia mea heri.’--Luther, _Epp._ iv. p.
189.

[51] ‘In domo mea cœpit esse hospital.’--_Ibid._

[52] ‘Verbum Dei pure tradidi.’--_Ibid._

[53] ‘Me hoc illi consulente.’--Lamberti dedicatio, _Exegeseos in
Apocalypsim_.

[54] Patrick’s _Places_.--Fox, _Acts_, iv. p. 566.

[55] _Ibid._, and Knox, _Hist. of Ref._, i. p. 25.

[56] ‘Axiomata doctissime asseruit.’--Lambert, Dedication, _Exeges
Apocal._

[57] Fryth, _To the Reader_. Fox, _Acts_, iv. p. 563.

[58] Notes on Patrick’s _Places_. Fox, _Ibid._ p. 572.

[59] _Ibid._ p. 573.

[60] ‘Plerique sacerdotum, _novitatis_ nomine offensi,
 contenderunt Novum Testamentum _nuper a Martino Luthero_ fuisse
scriptum.’--Buchanan, _Hist._, lib. xv. p. 534.

[61] Patrick’s _Places_, in Fox, _Acts_, iv. p. 565.

[62] ‘To testify the truth, he sought all means.’--Fox, _Acts_, iv. p.
563.

[63] Knox, _Hist. of the Ref._, ed. Wodrow, p. 15.

[64] ‘Whereunto many gave ear.’--Spotswood’s _Hist._, p. 62.

[65] ‘All sorts of people.’--_Ibid._

[66] ‘He spared not to show the errors crept into Christian religion,’
&c.--_Ibid._

[67] ‘To the south of the house of Kincavil, in the _craig
quarter_.’--Charter of 3 Sept. 1507.--Lorimer’s _Hamilton_.

[68] ‘A great following he had.’--Spotswood’s _Hist._, p. 62.

[69] See Fox, _Acts and Monuments_, iv. pp. 570, 571.

[70] ‘Man soll’s dem Papst zuwider thun,’ &c.--Luther’s _Tischreden_,
c. 43.

[71] ‘Paulo ante mortem duxit nobilem virginem uxorem.’--Alesius,
_Liber Psalm._ 1554.

[72] The only author who has mentioned it before us is Professor
Lorimer, in his _Memoirs_, 1857.

[73] ‘A conjured enemy to Christ Jesus.’--Knox, _Hist. of the Ref._, i.
p. 15.

[74] Scots’ _Worthies_, p. 12.

[75] ‘Prædixit etiam se brevi moriturum, cum adhuc apud suos
esset.’--Alesius, _Liber Psalm._

[76] Alesius.

[77] _On the Law and the Gospel._ Fox, _Acts_, iv. pp. 575, 576.

[78] ‘Bona opera non faciunt bonum hominem, sed homo bonus facit bona
opera.’--Alesius, _Liber Psalm._

[79] Bayle, _Dict. crit._; art. ‘Alesius.’

[80] ‘Lutheri assertiones refutans, cum applausu
theologorum.’--Alesius, _Liber Psalm._

[81] ‘Doctrinæ sententiarum.’--Alesius, _Liber Psalm._

[82] ‘Verum præter expectationem meam evenit, ut ex ipsius colloquio
meam errorem agnoscerem.’--Alesius, _Liber Psalm._

[83] ‘Eorum qui Thomae Aquinatis sectam imitantur inter eruditiores
habitus.’--Buchanan, lib. xiv. an. 1527.

[84] ‘Erat enim in eo placida natura.’--Alesius, _Liber Psalm._

[85] Knox, Alesius, Spotswood, Scots’ _Worthies_.

[86] ‘Docuit et disputavit palam in Academia, plus minus
mensem.’--Alesius, in _Psalm._

[87] ‘Metu cognatorum ejus.’--Lambert, _Apocal._

[88] ‘Adhortante rege ipso.’--Lesley, _De Rebus Gestis_, &c. p. 421.

[89] ‘They travailled with the king, that he should pass in pilgrimage
to St. Duthac.’--Knox, _Reform._, i. p. 16.

[90] The fact of this journey has been disputed in spite of the
testimonies of Knox, Spotswood, and others. But a letter of Angus to
Wolsey, of March 30, 1528, states that the king was at that time in the
_north country_, in the extreme parts of his realm. This evidence is
decisive.

[91] ‘Cum frater Patricii duxisset exercitum.’--Lambert, _Liber Psalm._

[92] ‘Ventis fuit impeditus.’--_Ibid._

[93] ‘Aliquot millia conscripserunt equitum.’--_Ibid._ The number is
doubtless exaggerated.

[94] ‘Very early in the morning.’--Fox, _Acts_, iv. p. 559. The last
of February.--Knox, _Hist. of the Ref._, i. 18 and 511. Pridie Cal.
Martii.--Lambert, _in Johan. Apocal. in Dedicat._

[95] Spotswood, _Hist. of the Church of Scotland_, p. 63.

[96] Spotswood, _Hist. of the Church of Scotland_, p. 63.

[97] M’Crie, _Life of Melville_, i. note D, p. 416.

[98] ‘Cum ii qui missi erant sub noctem ab episcopis hospitium ejus
obsidissent.’--Alesius, _Liber Psalm._

[99] ‘Processit ille obvius eis et petit quem quærerent.’--Alesius,
_Liber Psalm._

[100] ‘Orans ut discedere permitteret suos.’--_Ibid._

[101] The author, during a visit which he paid to St. Andrews in 1845,
studied on the spot the places here referred to, having as his guide to
the beautiful antiquities of St. Andrews the historian of the Scottish
Church, Dr. Hetherington.

[102] ‘Affui ego, spectator tragediæ.’--Alesius, _Liber Psalm._

[103] ‘After the manner of other courtiers in all kinds of licentious
riotousness.’--Knox, _Hist._, i. App. p. 505.

[104] It is in reference to this verse (Ps. xxxvii. 3) that Alesius, in
his _Comm. des Psaumes_, narrates the trial of Hamilton.

[105] ‘Jusserunt episcopi et theologi ut ei conviciaretur et vocaret
eum hereticum.’--Alesius, _Liber Psalm._

[106] Pitscottie, _Hist. of Scotland_, pp. 133, 134.

[107] ‘Mi frater, non ita sentis in animo.’--Alesius, _Liber Psalm._

[108] ‘Hoc dicto ita conscientiam illius percutit.’--_Ibid._

[109] ‘Domum rediens, inciderit in phrenesin.’--_Ibid._ Buchanan adds,
lib. xiv. ad an. 1527, ‘Nunquam ex eo die compos mentis fuit.’

[110] The sentence is given at full length in Fox, _Acts_, iv. p. 560.

[111] ‘Conclusus inter aliquot millia armatorum.’--Alesius, _Liber
Psalm._

[112] ‘Cum ipse adhuc in mensa sederet, jubet vocari præfectum et
quærit utrum omnia parata sint.’--Alesius, _Liber Psalm._

[113] ‘Apprehensa ejus dextera, properat ad locum supplicii.’--_Ibid._

[114] ‘Christi cruce cunctis vitæ commodis anteposita.’--Bezæ _Icones_.

[115] ‘Viso palo, ad quam alligandus erat, aperit caput, suscipiensque
in cœlum, orat.’--Alesius, _Liber Psalm._

[116] Knox, _Hist. of the Ref._, p. 17. Spotswood, p. 63.

[117] Pittscottie, Lorimer.

[118] Pittscottie, Lorimer.

[119] ‘Tu, si vera doces, infer digitum huc, ubi totus
ardeo.’--Alesius, _Liber Psalm._

[120] Knox, _Hist._, i. p. 18.

[121] ‘Insania conflictatus mortem obiit.’--Buchanan, lib. xiv. an.
1527.--‘Ut in phrenesin inciderit, et non longe post mortuus sit.’
Alesius, _Lib. Psalm._

[122] The learned Mr. David Laing found a note of this in the Records
of the Treasury.--See his appendix to Knox’s _Hist. of the Ref._, i. p.
515.

[123] ‘Commendat matrem amicis.’--Alesius, _Liber Psalm._

[124] ‘Cum jam scissus per medium ignita catena ferrea.’--_Ibid._

[125] ‘Erexit tres digitos, aliis duobus combustis.’--Alesius, _Liber
Psalm._

[126] ‘In igne, ab hora xii. usque ad vi., vespere, sedit ustulatus
magisquam combustus.’--_Ibid._

[127] ‘Alesii responsio ad Cochlæum.’

[128] Théodore Beza, _Icones_.

[129] These verses relating to Hamilton occur in a poem, _De Coronis
Martyrum in Scotia_, written by John Jonston, the manuscript of which
is preserved in the Advocates’ Library, Edinburgh. [Note by Translator.]

[130] ‘Tunc incandescerunt,’ etc.--Alesius, _Regi Scot._

[131] Knox, _Hist. of the Ref._, i. p. 36.

[132] Letters from the doctors of Louvain to the doctors of
Scotland.--Fox, _Acts_, iv. p. 561. Knox, _Hist._, i. 512.

[133] ‘An epistil to the nobil lords of Scotland.’--Knox, _Hist._, i.
App. 3, p. 544.

[134] _Ibid._ p. 503.

[135] _State Papers_, iv p. 499.

[136] ‘A sacris libris arcetur.’--Alesius, _Regi contra Cochlæum_.

[137] ‘Vim religionis, inspectis fontibus, cognoscant.’--_Ibid._

[138] Bayle, _Dict. crit._; art. ‘Alesius.’

[139] ‘Stringit ferrum in me, meque confodisset, nisi duo canonici, eum
vi retrahentes, ferrum a meo corpore avertissent.’--Alesius, _Regi adv.
Cochlæum_.

[140] ‘Ita ut collapsus, aliquamdiu jacerem exanimis.’--Alesius, _Regi
adv. Cochlæum_.

[141] ‘Nisi locus fuisset infectus pestilentia.’--_Ibid._

[142] ‘Ego in latrinam quamdam inducor.’--_Ibid._

[143] ‘Post vigesimum diem extrahit me squalentem ex latrina
illa.’--Alesius, _Regi adv. Cochlæum_.

[144] ‘Lavari et nitide vestiri.’--_Ibid._

[145] ‘Jubet me ab ara avelli et in latrinam rapi.’--Alesius, _Regi
adv. Cochlæum_.

[146] ‘Certum exitium impendere, nisi fuga mihi consulam.’--Alesius,
_Regi adv. Cochl._

[147] ‘Maximo dolore afficiebar cum cogitarem mihi e patria discedendum
esse.’--_Ibid._

[148] ‘Patria qua nihil dulcius est bene institutis naturis.’--_Ibid._

[149] ‘Ecclesia, cuilibet pio, verius est patria, quam ille locus qui
nascentem excepit.’--Alesius, _Regi adv. Cochlæum_.

[150] ‘Cum lacrymantes inter nos vale dixissemus.’--_Ibid._

[151] Comment. on _Acts_, xx. 37.

[152] ‘Media jam nocte in densissimis tenebris solus iter
aggredior.’--Comment. on _Acts_, xx. 37.

[153] ‘Acerbissimum patriam et cognatos deserere.’--_Ibid._

[154] ‘Fiducia Christi sustentabar.’--_Ibid._

[155] ‘Equites missi a meo præposito.’--_Ibid._

[156] ‘Me quidem homo germanus admodum excepit, meque sibi
adjunxit’--Comment. on _Acts_, xx. 37. The word _germanus_ in this
passage doubtless means _German_, and not _kinsman_, as some have
supposed.

[157] ‘Oleum misericordiæ, nisi in vase fiduciæ ponis.’--Comment. on
_Acts_, xx. 37.

[158] Alesius, _De Traditionibus Apostolicis_, in dedicatione.

[159] ‘Pervagatus sum quamdam Galliæ oram.’--Alesius, _Regi adv.
Episcop._

[160] ‘The sore imprisonment of the erle of Argyll, the little
exstymation of the erle of Murray and the Lord Maxwell,’
etc.--Northumberland to Henry VIII., _State Papers_, iv. p. 598.

[161] ‘The erle Bothwell in the night and other three.’--_State
Papers_, iv. p. 597.

[162] ‘To crown your Grace in the town of Edinburgh within bref
tyme.’--_State Papers_, iv. p. 574, Sept. 29, 1531.

[163] ‘That we may lawfully write ourself _prince of England_ and Duke
of York.’--_State Papers_, iv. p. 599.

[164] ‘Of an audacious and bold spirit.’--Spotswood, p. 63.

[165] Knox, _Hist. of the Ref._, pp. 45, 46.

[166] ‘This carnal prince who altogether was given unto the filthy
lusts of the flesh.’--Knox, _Hist. of the Ref._, p. 48.

[167] _Ibid._ pp. 48-52.

[168] _Calderwood_, i.

[169] MS., Advocates’ Library.--Pitcairn’s _Crim. Trials_, i. p. 161.

[170] ‘Mores regi posse sine sacris libris?’ (_Alesii Epistola contra
Decretum quoddam Episcoporum in Scotia._) This letter bears no name
either of its publisher or of the place where it was printed. There is
at the end only Anno MDXXXIII.

[171] ‘Ut populus paulatim induat ethnicas persuasiones.’--_Alesii
Epistola contra Decretum quoddam Episcoporum in Scotia._

[172] This treatise, in the form of a letter, is entitled, _An expediat
laicis legere Novi Testamenti libros lingua vernacula?_--Ex Dresda. Id.
Junii 1533.

[173] _State Papers_, iv. pp. 608-611.

[174] Fox, _Acts_, iv. p. 579.

[175] Anderson, _Bible Annals_, ii. p. 443, note.

[176] ‘To the intent that all the people of Forfar might see the fire,’
etc.--Fox, _Acts_, iv. p. 579.

[177] Fox, _Acts_, iv. p. 579.

[178] Knox, _Hist. of the Ref._, i. p. 59. Scots’ _Worthies_, p. 20.

[179] ‘On hearing them he became of a sudden as one enraptured or
inspired.’--Scots’ _Worthies_, p. 20.

[180] ‘He threw himself on his knees, extended his hands.’ etc.--Scots’
_Worthies_.

[181] Spotswood, p. 66.

[182] Fox, _Acts_, iv. p. 579. Scots’ _Worthies_, p. 16.

[183] _State Papers_, v. pp. 1-6. These instructions, which have
no date, belong to the second half of the year 1534, and they are
corrected by the hand of Cromwell, by whom they were also probably
drawn up. [The instructions extend over five printed quarto
pages.--_Translator._]

[184] ‘King Henry VIII. to King James V.’--_State Papers_, v. p. 7.

[185] ‘Audience he himself only.’ Letter from Margaret to Henry VIII.
and to Cromwell.--_Ibid._ pp. 10-12.

[186] _State Papers_, p. 14. Otterburn’s Letters to Cromwell. See also
the note taken from the _Diurnall_.

[187] _State Papers_, v. p. 52, p. 19.

[188] _State Papers_, v. pp. 18-20.

[189] Calderwood’s _Hist._ Scots’ _Worthies_, p. 21.

[190] _Ibid._

[191] These and other details were communicated by Andrew to the
minister John Davidson, who inserted them in his _History of the
Scottish Martyrs_.--Scots’ _Worthies_.

[192] ‘Stoutly.’ Fox’s _Acts_, v. p. 622.

[193] [Or _portass_, a _portable_ breviary, or small
prayer-book.--_Translator._]

[194] Fox’s _Acts_. Scots’ _Worthies_, p. 22.

[195] Letter from Angus to Sir G. Douglas.

[196] _State Papers_, v. p. 38.

[197] See the Letter from the Queen-mother to Henry VIII.--_State
Papers._

[198] Howard and Barlow to Henry VIII.--_State Papers_, pp. 46, 48.

[199] _Unpublished Letters of Margaret of Angoulême_, p. 349.

[200] Sutchyll’s Letters to the Lord Admiral.--_State Papers_, v. p. 59.

[201] ‘Sub amitæ reginæ Navarræ disciplina educata.’--Buchanan, lib.
xiv. ad an. 1537. See also _Unpublished Letters of the Queen of
Navarre_, p. 77.

[202]

    Regia eram conjux, et regia filia, neptis
    Regia, spe et votis regia mater eram ... etc.
                         Buchanan, _Opera_, p. 81.

[203] ‘Rex, id quod evenit, de exitu uxoris veritus, in illam oculos
conjecerat.’--Buchanan, lib. xiv.

[204] Kirkton, _True History of the Church of Scotland_, p. 7.

[205] ‘The great part of the sermon was in extolling of the Richess of
Rome authority.’--_State Papers_, v. p. 154.

[206] ‘Most vicious prince we shall call, for he neither spared
manis wieff, nor madyn, no more after his marriage than he did
before.’--Knox, _Ref. in Scotland_, _Works_, 1846, i. p. 66.

[207] ‘His velut machinis admotis, quum regis animum superstitionibus
obnoxium labefactassent.’--Buchanan, lib. xiv. an. 1535.

[208] Spotswood, _Church of Scotland_, p. 67.

[209] _Criminal Trials._ Anderson, _Bible Annals_, p. 498.

[210] Norfolk to Cromwell, March 29, 1539.--_State Papers_, v. p. 154.

[211] ‘Daily commeth unto me some gentlemen and some clerks.’--_State
Papers_, v. p. 154.

[212] _Ibid._

[213] ‘The verray sempill people understood that as the preastis and
pharisyes....’--Knox, _Ref. in Scotland_, i. p. 62

[214] ‘Because they were at the bridal and marriage of a priest.’--Fox,
_Acts_, v. p. 623.

[215] ‘Mars 1, 1539, accusatio hereticorum et eorum
combustio.’--_Archæologia_, xxii. p. 7. ‘The last day of
February.’--Knox, _Ref. in Scotland_, p. 63.

[216] Anderson, _Annals of the English Bible_, ii. 500, 501.

[217] ‘Eorum combustio apud Edinburgh rege presente.’--_Archæologia_,
xxii. p. 7.

[218] ‘Lutheranismo suspecti complures capti sunt, quinque
cremati.’--Buchanan, _Res Scoticæ_, p. 309.

[219] Lord Treasurer’s _Accounts_.

[220] ‘Sopitis custodibus.’--Lord Treasurer’s _Accounts_.

[221] ‘Per cubiculi fenestram evaserat.’

[222] Knox, _Ref. in Scotland_, p. 71.

[223] Knox, _Ref. in Scotland_, p. 71.

[224] _Ibid._ p. 63.

[225] ‘One frere Jerome, a well learned man, lyeth in sore
yerons.’--_State Papers_, v. p. 141.

[226] Scots’ _Worthies_, p. 24.

[227] Knox, _Ref._, p. 65. Spotswood, p. 67. Petrie, _History of the
Church_, p. 180.

[228] ‘For many of his minions were pensioners to priests.’--Knox,
_Ref. in Scotland_, p. 67.

[229] _State Papers_, v. p. 174.

[230] _State Papers_, v. p. 170.

[231] _State Papers_, v. p. 170.

[232] Spotswood, p. 70. Petrie, p. 180.

[233] _State Papers_, v. p. 177.

[234] ‘Rex provisus jam hæredibus de sua salute securior.’--Buchanan,
p. 510.

[235] _State Papers_, v. p. 178.

[236] Knox, _Ref._, p. 82. It is difficult to say what this word
_jefwellis_ exactly means. Another manuscript has _josrellis_; another
_jeffels_; and a fourth, _Jesuits_. The last reading is improbable. The
Jesuits had only been confirmed by the pope the year before, and their
name had not yet become a term of reproach.

[237] The _State Papers_, v. p. 125, contain a letter from him to Lord
Cromwell, on a political subject, and suggesting that Henry VIII.
should give his nephew a young lion, in token of his friendship. ‘He
saw one _zoung lyoun_ in Flandris.’ The King of Scotland wished for it,
and Scott thought that his wish should be gratified.

[238] Knox, _Ref. in Scotland_, p. 69. Spotswood, p. 71.

[239] ‘J. Hamiltonium ense stricto in se ruentem.’--Buchanan, p. 512.

[240] _State Papers_, v. pp. 188-190.

[241] _State Papers_, v. p. 168.

[242] _State Papers_, v. p. 168.

[243] ‘Ac prolixe de sui regis amore et benevolentia erga eum
sponderent.’--Buchanan, p. 516.

[244] _State Papers_, v. p. 198.

[245] ‘Si animum regis largitionibus immensis
aggrederentur.’--Buchanan, _Rer. Scot. Hist._, p. 510. D. de Foe,
_Church of Scotland_, p. 9. Spotswood, _Hist._, pp. 70, 71. Petrie,
_Hist._, p. 181. Knox, _Ref._, p. 77.

[246] Knox, _Ref._, p. 77.

[247] ‘Cæsi non adeo multi, plurimi capti.’--Buchanan, p. 512.

[248] Knox, _Ref._, p. 78.

[249] _State Papers_, v. pp. 207, 209.

[250] Knox, _Ref._, p. 81.

[251] Sadler’s _Papers_, i. p. 94. Knox, _Ref._, p. 81.

[252] Knox, _Ref._, p. 86.

[253] Knox, _Ref._, p. 89.

[254] Knox, _Ref._, p. 86.

[255] ‘Quum circiter 500 equites Angli in propinquis collibus
cernerentur.’--Buchanan, p. 513.

[256] Knox, _Ref._, p. 87.

[257] Plures a Scotis latronibus capti et Anglis divenditi.’--Buchanan,
p. 513.

[258] Knox, _Ref._, p. 88.

[259] _Ibid._

[260] ‘Velut ad publicum spectaculum per ora vulgi
traducti.’--Buchanan, p. 516. Their names and their fortunes are set
forth in _State Papers_, v. pp. 232-235.

[261] Lesley says that it was at Carlaverock, but Knox, p. 89, and
Pitscottie, p. 174, say ‘Lochmaben,’ which seems to me established.

[262] Knox, _Ref._, p. 89.

[263] _State Papers_, v. pp. 225-228.

[264] Spotswood, p. 71. Knox, _Ref._, p. 91.

[265] ‘Rege in ætatis flore non tam morbo quam mœroris vi
extincto.’--Buchanan, p. 515.

[266] ‘Imminere videbatur tempestas quantam vix ulla proximorum
sæculorum memoria ... meminisset.’--Buchanan, p. 515.

[267] ‘Multi pro sua cujusque spe aut metu varie disserebant.’--_Ibid._

[268] ‘Minime turbidus, ex amita cardinalis natus,’--Buchanan, p. 515.

[269] ‘Many affirm that a dead man’s hand was made to subscribe a
blank.’--Knox, _Ref._, p. 92. ‘Conducto Balfurio sacrificulo mercenario
falsum testamentum subjecit.’--Buchanan, p. 515. Sadler, _Papers_, i.
p. 38. Lesley, _Hist._, p. 169.

[270] _State Papers_, v. pp. 238, 240. Knox, _Ref._, pp. 32, 94.

[271] Spotswood, p. 71. Buchanan, Knox.

[272] _State Papers_, v. p. 250.

[273] Knox, _Ref._, p. 95. Spotswood, p. 72. McCrie, _Life of Knox_, p.
21. Edit. 1855.

[274] _State Papers_, v. p. 242.

[275] ‘Quum cardinalis non solum repugnaret sed obturbando et alios
interpellando, nihil decerni pateretur.’--Buchanan, p. 517. It appears
to us that Buchanan, although a contemporary and an eminent historian,
is in error here. He assigns this opposition of the cardinal to the
month of March in the parliament, while it is evident that it took
place on January 26 at the latest.

[276] ‘Communi prope omnium consensu cardinalis in cubiculum seorsum
seclusus est.’--Buchanan, _ibid._

[277] _State Papers_, v. p. 242 n.

[278] Calvin, _Harm. de Matth._, xii. 29.

[279] _State Papers_, v. 249.

[280] _State Papers_, v. 249.

[281] _State Papers_, v. pp. 262-264. Angus to Lisle.

[282] ‘The marriage of the said queen, and to contract the same by
their said ambassadors.’--_Ibid._

[283] Knox, _Hist. of the Ref._, p. 98.

[284] Knox, _Hist. of the Ref._, p. 99.

[285] _Ibid._, p. 100. Spotswood, p. 72. Petrie, _Church Hist._, p. 182.

[286] Knox, _Ref._, p. 100.

[287] ‘Affuit R. Sadlerius, eques ab Anglo legatus, qui nuptias et
pacem publicam procuraret.’--Buchanan, p. 517.

[288] ‘With his fulmination of cursing, and all other means that he
shall be able to excogitate.’--_State Papers_, v. p. 286.

[289] Knox, _Ref._, p. 103.

[290] ‘Hamilton, abbas Passerensis, et David Panitarius.’--Buchanan,
lib. xv. anno 1543. ‘David Panter.’--Spotswood. ‘David Panteyr.’--Knox.

[291] ‘Great esperance there was that their presence should have been
comfortable to the kirk of God,’--Knox, _Ref._, p. 105.

[292] Knox, _Ref._, p. 107.

[293] Knox, _Ref._, p. 107.

[294] Spotswood. Knox writes ‘Ballantyne.’

[295] _State Papers_, v. p. 242. Spotswood, p. 73. In Laing’s edition
of Knox it is stated in a note, p. 97, ‘He at last obtained permission
to go to his own castle of St. Andrews, under the guard of George,
fifth Lord Seaton.’ But the text of Knox, p. 57, says, ‘Was put first
in Dalkeith, after in Seatoun.’

[296] ‘He took no heed to them, but to new opinions of heresy.’--_State
Papers_, v. 322.

[297] ‘The cardinal ceased not to traffic with such of the multitude as
he might draw to his faction.’--Knox, _Ref._, p. 108.

[298] ‘Imminentem universæ papanæ Ecclesiæ ruinam
averteret.’--Buchanan, p. 518.

[299] _State Papers_, v. p. 321. Edinb. July 20, 1543.

[300] ‘Tanta seditione quantam ipse vides a cardinale
excitata.’--Buchanan, p. 518. Spotswood, p. 73.

[301] ‘Vi publici furoris abreptus.’--Buchanan, p. 519.

[302] ‘Recta Londinum, multis reclamantibus, est profectus.’--_Ibid._

[303] _State Papers_, v. p. 323.

[304] Knox, _Ref._, p. 109.

[305] ‘Ut infamia flagitii minueretur ad vulgus, non propalam, sed in
æde Franciscanorum, ... sententiam suam prorex mutavit.’--Buchanan, p.
521.

[306] ‘He received absolution, renounced the profession of Christ Jesus
his holy Evangel.’--Knox, _Ref._, p. 109.

[307] _State Papers_, v. p. 333. Sept. 8, 1543.

[308] ‘At that time was our queen crouned’--Knox, _Ref._, p. 109.

[309] _State Papers_, v. 335, 351. Buchanan, p. 524. _Bible Annals_,
ii. 529. Knox, _Ref._, p. 110.

[310] Fox, _Acts_, v. p. 623.

[311] ‘Their conferences and assemblies, in hearing and expounding of
Scripture,’--_Ibid._ p. 624.

[312] ‘Certain priests did eat and drink in these honest men’s houses,
to whom they were much bounden.’--_Ibid._ p. 625.

[313] ‘Variarum copia voluptatum ultra omnem mundanorum luxuriam
exuberant.’--M. Clamengis, _Ep._ 35.

[314] Fox, _Acts_, v. p. 624.

[315] ‘Nisi secundum ipsius piæ matris dispensationem.’--Bernardus de
Bustis, Franciscanus, _Sermones_, 1500.

[316] Fox, _Acts_, v. p. 624.

[317] ‘Women who, contrary to nature, addressed them to extreme cruelty
against him.’--Fox, _Acts_, v. p. 623.

[318] _Ibid._ v. p. 623.

[319] Fox, _Acts_, v. p. 624.

[320] ‘Prophesied of the ruin and plague which came upon the
cardinal.’--_Ibid._ v. p. 625.

[321] Knox, _Ref._, p. 118. Fox, _Acts_, v. pp. 623-625. Spotswood, pp.
74, 75.

[322] Knox, _Ref._, p. 119. Spotswood, p. 76.

[323] Knox, _Ref._, p. 119.

[324] Knox, _Ref._, p. 119.

[325] ‘Urbe spoliata ac deinde incensa ... multos pagos
arcesque nonnullas et villas hominum nobilium ferro flammaque
vestarunt.’--Buchanan, p. 525.

[326] _State Papers_, v. pp. 361-366.

[327] Emery Tylney’s Account.--Fox, _Acts_, v. p. 626.

[328] Knox, _Ref._, p. 127. Scots’ _Worthies_, p. 28. Spotswood, p. 76.

[329] Or Leifnorris. See Laing’s note, Knox, _Ref._, p. 127.

[330] _Ibid._

[331] Knox, _Ref._, p. 44. Scots’ _Worthies_, p. 20. _Hist._, p. 129.

[332] Knox, _Ref._, p. 130.

[333] Knox, _Ref._, p. 131.

[334] Knox, _Ref._, p. 131.

[335] _Ibid._ Scots’ _Worthies_, pp. 29, 30. Spotswood, p. 77.

[336] Knox, _Ref._, p. 133. Some MSS. read ‘copestone,’
‘keapestone,’--‘keepestone.’ Spotswood, p. 77.

[337] Knox, _Ref._, p. 134. Scots’ _Worthies_, p. 31.

[338] Knox, _Ref._, p. 135. Scots’ _Worthies_, p. 31.

[339] This is the first time that Knox speaks of himself in his History
(p. 137).

[340] Knox, _Ref._, p. 138. Scots’ _Worthies_. Spotswood.

[341] Knox, _Ref._, p. 143. _Diurnall of Occurrents_, p. 41. Spotswood,
p. 78.

[342] Knox, _Ref._, p. 143. Spotswood, p. 79.

[343] Knox, _Ref._, p. 144. Buchanan, p. 556. Spotswood, p. 79. Fox,
_Acts_, v. 626. Scots’ _Worthies_, p. 33.

[344] Fox. In Scots’ _Worthies_, p. 34, the name is written, ‘Winram.’
In Buchanan, ‘Viniramus.’ In Knox, ‘Winram.’

[345] Fox, _Acts_, v. p. 627.

[346] Fox, _Acts_, v p. 628. Knox, _Ref._, p. 152.

[347] Knox, _Ref._, p. 154.

[348] Fox, _Acts_, v. p. 630.

[349] ‘He wanteth the instrument by which he bindeth or looseth, that
is to say, the Word of God.’--Fox, _Acts_, v. p. 631.

[350] Fox, _Acts_, v. p. 633.

[351] ‘Nulla judicii aut liberæ disceptationis ibi forma fuit:
accusator enim ... cum summa verborum acerbitate detonabat.’--Buchanan,
p. 538. Spotswood, pp. 80, 81.

[352] ‘Non videri æquum ut pertinax hereticus ... ullis ecclesiæ
beneficiis frueretur.’--Buchanan, p. 538.

[353] Scots’ _Worthies_, pp. 35, 36. ‘Viros vos esse bonos et in eodem
Christi corpore mecum esse sociatos.’--Buchanan, p. 539.

[354] ‘Fenestra ... tapetibus, stragulis sericis et pulvinis
ornabatur.’--Buchanan, p. 559.

[355] Fox, _Acts_, p. 635.

[356] ‘At qui nos tam superbe despicit, intra paucos dies non minus
ignominiose jacebit quam nunc arroganter cubat.’--Buchanan, p. 540.

[357] ‘Velut pecus ex hara suæ libidini mactaret.’--Buchanan, p. 540.

[358] ‘Domi cum scortis volutetur; foris in cæde innoxiorum et sanguine
hæreticorum debaccharetur.’--_Ibid._

[359] ‘Discesserunt utrimque animis infensissimis.’--Buchanan p. 541.

[360] ‘Leslius ad suos rediit, intolerandam cardinalis superbiam iis
exposuit; facile omnes in cædem ejus conjurarunt.’--Buchanan, p. 541.
Knox, _Ref._, pp. 172, 173.

[361] ‘Cardinalis arcem suam in usum belli communiebat.’--Buchanan, p.
542.

[362] Knox, _Ref._, p. 74.

[363] ‘Eos quum semisomnes sigillatim evocassent mortem præsentem si
quisquam mutiret, comminati.’--Buchanan, xv. p. 545.

[364] Knox, _Ref._, p. 177.

[365] Numbers, ch. xxxv.

[366] Knox, _Ref._, p. 177.

[367] ‘Cadaver exanimatum oculis omnium exponunt, in illo ipso loco
unde ipse non multo ante Georgii [Wishart] supplicium tam lætus
spectaverat.’--Buchanan, p. 542.

[368] Spotswood, p. 84.

[369] Spotswood, p. 88. The last of July. Knox, _Ref._, p. 205.
Buchanan assigns the capture of the castle or the capitulation to the
month of August 1547. ‘Hæc in mensem Augusti anni MDXLVII. inciderunt,’
p. 543.

[370] Melville’s _Diary_, pp. 276-278. M’Crie, _Andrew Melville_, ii.
p. 66.

[371] Second Book of Discipline.

[372] Buckle, _History of Civilization_, ch. xvi.

[373] See vols. i. and ii. of the second series: _The Reformation in
the Time of Calvin_.

[374] This thought was expressed to the author by a distinguished
writer, to whom we owe a remarkable _History of the French Revolution_,
published a few years ago.

[375] ‘Singulis momentis de Gallica libelli nostri editione
cogitabamus.’ Letter to Francois Daniel; Lausanne, Oct. 13. 1536. Bibl.
de Berne. Calvin, _Opera_, edid. Theol. Argent. vol. x. p. 63. The
earliest known edition of the _Institution_ in French is that of 1540.

[376] _Vie de Calvin_, p. 29. Paris edition of 1864. The Latin edition,
speaking of the office of preacher, says, ‘Hoc autem primum recusavit.’

[377] _Comment. sur les Psaumes_, vol. i. p. ix. Paris, 1859.

[378] _Lettres Françaises de Calvin_ (J. Bonnet), i. p. 270. To the
Protector of England.

[379] _Lettres Françaises de Calvin_, ii. p. 30.

[380] Registers of the Council of Geneva, Sept. 4, 1536.

[381] _Lettres Françaises de Calvin_ to the lords of Berne, ii. p. 29.

[382] _Institution Chrétienne_, iv. ch. 12.

[383] ‘Iste Gallus.’--Registers of the Council, Sept. 5, 1536.

[384] Registers of the Council, Sept. 8. The church of St. Germain,
where the Council assembled, is near the Hôtel de Ville.

[385] Ruchat, iv. p. 138.

[386] _Mémoire de Pierrefleur_, p. 152. Ruchat, iv. pp. 130-160.

[387] Ruchat, iv. p. 142.

[388] MS. Pinaut. Ruchat, iv. p. 158.

[389] Ruchat, iv. p. 504.

[390] _Ibid._ p. 366.

[391] Edicts of the Lords of Berne. _Pièces justificatives_ of Ruchat,
iv. p. 500, note 2.

[392] ‘Capitaine de la jeunesse.’

[393] Calvin’s Letter to F. Daniel, Lausanne, Oct. 13,
1536.--Bibliothèque de Berne. Calvin, Opp. x. p. 63.

[394] Acts of the Disputation of Lausanne. _Mémoire de Pierrefleur_, p.
161. Ruchat, iv. pp. 179, 505.

[395] The Acts of this Disputation form a handsome manuscript volume
in folio, preserved in the Library of Berne. The author having worked
there in 1859, noticed this volume among others. Subsequently,
Professor Gaussen, who had had a large portion of it copied several
years before, presented the copy to the author. This narration is
therefore drawn up from the original text.

[396] _Avoyer_ was the title of the first magistrate of the Bernese
republic. The _baillifs_ were the deputy governors of the Bernese
dependencies.

[397] Acts of the Disputation. Berne MS. folio xviii.

[398] Acts of the Disputation, fol. xxi. and xxv.

[399] Acts of the Disputation of Lausanne, fol. lxix.

[400] Acts of the Disputation of Lausanne, fol. lxxv. and xcii.

[401] Edition of Erasmus. 1528.

[402] Some authors name him also ‘Caudy’ or ‘Candy;’ Ruchat writes
‘Tandi.’

[403] Acts, fol. xcii.-clxix.

[404] ‘Curia Romana non quærit ovem sine lana.’

[405] Acts, fol. clxxxix., cxc.

[406] Ne Hercules quidem contra duos.

[407] Acts, fol. ccxix.-ccxxi. and cclxi.-cclxiii.

[408] Acts, fol. cclxxiii., cclxxiv., cclxxix.

[409] ‘Quod solius papæ pedes omnes principes deosculentur,’
etc.--_Dictatus Papæ_, Ep. ii. p. 55.

[410] _Institution Chrétienne_, iv. ch. 6, 7, 8.

[411] Acts of the Disputation, fol. ccxxxviii.

[412] Acts, fol. cclxxxvii.

[413] Farel’s discourse begins at fol. cclxxxv. of the Berne MS. and
ends at ccci.; Ruchat, iv. p. 361.

[414] MS. of Lausanne, p. 516. Ruchat, iv. p. 379.

[415] Rollin.

[416] Calvin.

[417] Acts of the Disputation, fol. ccxiii., ccxiv.

[418] Acts, xix. 27.

[419] _Mémoire de Pierrefleur_, p. 168. Ruchat, iv. p. 380.

[420] _Pièces justificatives._ Ruchat, iv. p. 520.

[421] Letter from the prince of Soubise to F. de Loys.--_Pièces
justificatives_ de Ruchat, iv. p. 508.

[422] Herminjard, _Correspondance_, iv. p. 107.

[423] Herminjard, _Correspondance_, iv. p. 94.

[424] ‘Qui magis negligant Viretum nostrum, Bernatesne an
Lausannenses.’--_Ibid._ p. 109.

[425] _Mémoire de Pierrefleur_, p. 110. Ruchat, iv. p. 385. Le
Chroniqueur. Herminjard.

[426] Ruchat, iv. p. 374.

[427] MS. of Lutry, p. 77. Ruchat, iv. p. 377.

[428] Herminjard, iv. pp. 62, 92. Ruchat, iv. pp. 365, 411.

[429] Farel’s Letter to the bailiff Naegueli, of Nov. 14, 1536.
Herminjard, iv. p. 102.

[430] ‘Malunt in sepulcris Ægyptiorum sepeliri, quam manna edere
columnaque dirigi in eremo.’--Bibl. de Neuchâtel. Herminjard, iv. p.
109.

[431] Herminjard, iv. p. 112. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 70.

[432] ‘Bacchum vere nobis præstitit vel Martem.’--Farel to Fabri, Dec.
6, Bibl. de Neuchâtel. Herminjard, iv. p. 122.

[433] Edict of the Lords of Berne, Ruchat, iv. p. 378. Prov. xxii. 6.

[434] Ordinances of Reformation of the Lords of Berne, Ruchat, iv. p.
522.

[435] _Mémoire de Pierrefleur_, p. 166.

[436] ‘Faxit Dominus ut ex omnium cordibus idolatria
corruat.’--Calvin’s Letter to Francois Daniel. Bib. de Berne.
Herminjard, _Correspondance_, iv. p. 89. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 63.

[437] ‘Fratres qui Genevæ et in vicinia Christum annuntiant.’--Calv.
_Opp._ x. p. 71. Herminjard, iv. p. 105.

[438] Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 67. Herminjard, iv. p. 119.

[439] _Vie de Calvin_, in French, p. 29, edit. of 1864. There are three
lives of Calvin, which down to the present time have been generally
attributed to Theodore Beza. The first (in French), published in 1564,
the year of Calvin’s death, is entirely the work of Beza. The second,
also in French, but more extensive than the first, is of the year 1565.
It is substantially Beza’s, but was published with augmentations by
Nicholas Colladon, who was first a pastor at Vandœuvres, then, in 1562,
at Geneva, became rector in 1564, and succeeded Calvin in 1566 in the
chair of Theology. This life of Calvin was reprinted at Paris in 1864,
and the passage we have cited is found in it, p. 29. Lastly, Theodore
Beza, in 1575, prefixed to Calvin’s Letters a Life written in Latin.
The work of Colladon is perhaps richer as regards facts, although that
of Beza is superior in other respects.

[440] Epistle of J. Sadoleto, and Reply of Calvin. Geneva, Fick, 1860.

[441] Calvin’s Letter of Oct. 13 (Library of Berne). Calv. _Opp._ x.
p. 63. Letter from the Council of Strasburg to the Council of Basel,
Nov. 4, 1536. Herminjard, iv. p. 95. Calvin is said to have purposed
visiting Basel, to set its affairs in order. Our hypothesis appears to
us to be more in harmony with the letter.

[442] Buffon.

[443] Calvin’s Farewell. Tronchin MS. Coll. J. Bonnet: _Lettres
Françaises de Calvin_, ii. p. 574.

[444] ‘Post abominationem papismi, verbi virtute hic
prostratam.’--Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 319.

[445] ‘Jam vero confessionem non sine ratione adjungendam
curavimus.’--Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 319.

[446] Calvin, _Comment. on Luke_, xxiv. p. 45.

[447] Calv. _Opp._ v. 43.

[448] A version executed by Calvin himself. _Opp._ v. pp. 317-362.

[449] _Opp._ v. 323.

[450] _Vie de Calvin_, p. 30. Paris, 1864.

[451] Calvin on _James_, i. 6.

[452] _Vie de Calvin_, p. 29. Paris, 1864.

[453] ‘Tunc edita est a Calvino Christianæ doctrinæ quædam veluti
formula.’--_Vita Calvini_, 1575, narrated by Beza.

[454] See this confession in Latin, Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 357; and in
French, in the _Pièces Justificatives_ of Gaberel, i. p. 120. Ruchat,
iv. p. 111.

[455] ‘Jam vero confessionem solemni jurejurando ab universo populo
editam adjungimus.’--Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 319.

[456] Registers of the Council, Nov. 10, 1536.

[457] Registers of the Council, Jan. 16, 1537.

[458] Archives of Geneva. Pièces hist., 1170. Gaberel, i. p. 102. Calv.
_Opp._ x. p. 6.

[459] Registers of the Council, Jan. 16, 1537.

[460] Registers of the Council, Jan. 16, 1537.

[461] Registers of the Council, Jan. 30, 1537.

[462] See the Registers of Feb. 5, 6, and 9, 1537, together with the
remarks of Flournois appended to one copy of the Registers, p. 1019.

[463] Bolsec, _Vie de Calvin_, vii.

[464] Rozet, _Chron. de Genève_, iv. ch. 9.

[465] Registers of the Council, Mar. 13.

[466] _Ibid._ of the days mentioned.

[467] ‘Videbatur initio Sonerius ægre ferre quod exigeretur
confessionis formula.’--Calv. _Opp._ p. 11. Ed. princ. of Geneva. 1575.

[468] ‘Ut plebs decuriatim convocata in confessionem istam
juraret.’--_Calv. Opp._ (Stras. Br.), v. p. 320.

[469] Registers, July 29. Rozet, _Chron. de Genève_, iv. ch. 9.

[470] ‘In præstando juramento non minor fuit plebis alacritas, quam in
edicendo senatus diligentia.’--Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 320.

[471] Registers, Sept. 19. Roget, _Peuple de Genève_, p. 43.

[472] Dedication of the _Epître à Tite_ (1549). Calvin includes Viret
in this friendship.

[473] Saunier, _Ordre et manière d’enseigner en la ville de Genève_,
1538; reprinted by E. A. Bétant, 1866.

[474] _Ibid._

[475] Registers, May 1, 1537.

[476] Six écus are 18 francs (about 15 shillings).

[477] [The French version of the Bible, bearing the name of Pierre
Robert Olivétan, one of the reformers, was published at Neuchâtel in
1535.--_Translator._]

[478] _See_ Registers for the days named. As different dates have been
assigned, we add that ours are taken from the Registers. We only make
this remark, which we acknowledge is of no great importance, that no
one may suspect any trickery in the matter.

[479] Saunier, _Ordre et manière_, etc.

[480] Froment, _Gestes de Genève_, p. 239.

[481] _Hist. of the Reform. in the Time of Calvin_, iii. book 4, ch. 8.

[482] _Chronique de Rozet_, book iv. ch. 4.

[483] Registers, Mar. 9.

[484] Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 176.

[485] _Ibid._ pp. 179 and 180.

[486] Registers, Mar. 13.

[487] _Ibid._ Mar. 14.

[488] _See_ ‘Briève instruction pour armer tous bons fidèles,’
etc.--Calv. _Opp._ vi. pp. 49-112; and ‘Contre la secte phantastique et
furieuse des Libertins qui se nomment Spirituels.’--_Ibid._ pp. 149-248.

[489] Beza, _Vita Calvini_. _Vie de Calvin_ (in French), p. 31. Paris,
1864.

[490] _Vie de Calvin_, by Beza-Colladon, p. 31.

[491] _Johann Calvin_, by Kampschulte, i. p. 295.

[492] ‘Alter ecclesiæ turbator majores et diuturniores turbas
dedit.’--Beza, _Vita Calv._, 1575. p. 5.

[493] Vol. v. book ix. ch. 3 and 4.

[494] ‘Ut quocumque venisset, certa suæ turpitudinis impressa vestigia
relinqueret.’--Beza, p. 5.

[495] Calvin’s Letter to Megander, probably of Mar. 1537.--Library of
Geneva. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 85. Herminjard, iv. p. 187.

[496] Herminjard, iv. p. 187.

[497] ‘Voluit Carolus ecclesiam catholicam ... semper orare
ut resurgant, vitamque futuri seculi corpora defunctorum
consequantur.’--Megander to Bullinger, Mar. 8, 1537. Calv. _Opp._ x. p.
89.

[498] Ruchat, v. p. 21. Calv. _Opp._ p. 89.

[499] _Vie de Calvin_, Beza-Colladon, p. 31.

[500] Ruchat, _Hist. de la Réf._ v. p. 22.--Calvin’s Letter to
Megander. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 85.

[501] ‘Serveti Hispani pessimum errorem confirmare.’--Calv. _Opp._ x.
p. 103.

[502] ‘Quod id ne timere quidem unquam in mentem venerit.’--Calvin to
Grynæus. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 108.

[503] ‘In simplicissima Dei unitate, et Scriptura et ipsa
pietatis experientia, Deum patrem, ejus Filium et Spiritum nobis
ostendunt.’--Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 337, and x. p. 83.

[504] Luther, _Kirchenpostill_ (Walch, xi.) _am Trinität_.

[505] ‘Ii quibus tam pietas cordi erat (the opponents of Arius and
Sabellius) affirmarunt vere immo Deo tres _personas_ subsistere,
seu (quod idem erat) in Dei unitate subsistere _personarum
trinitatem_.’--Calv. _Opp._ i. p. 61. Afterwards, Calvin said,
‘Christus ut quatenus Deus est, sit unus cum patre Deus ejusdem
_naturæ_ seu _substantiæ_ seu _essentiæ_, non aliter quam persona
distinctus.’--_Ibid._ p. 61.

[506] Calvin to Megander.--Ruchat, v. p. 25.

[507] Calvin’s Letters to Megander and Grynæus.--Ruchat, _Hist. de la
Réf._ v. pp. 22, 23.

[508] Calvin to Megander.

[509] Calvin to Megander.

[510] ‘Quam ob causam Calvinus Bernam veniens obnixe petit ut synodus
cogeretur, quod abnegatum est homini usque post Paschatis.’--Fueslin,
_Epp. Ref. Eccl. Helvet._ p. 173.

[511] Calvin, _Opp._ x. p. 95.

[512] Calvin to Grynæus, _Opp._ x. p. 106.

[513] Registers of Council of Geneva, May 5 and 11. The florin was
rather less than half a franc.

[514] The synod met, not in March, as has been said (Kampschulte,
_Johann Calvin_, i. p. 296), but two months later. See preceding note.

[515] ‘Quomodo jurisconsulti præcipiunt nempe cum _sacco_
paratior.’--Calvin, _Epp._ x. p. 107.

[516] The Apostles’, Nicene, and so-called Athanasian Creeds.--Ruchat,
v. p. 25.

[517] Matt. vii. 6.

[518] Ruchat, v. pp. 27, 28.

[519] ‘Quatenus unus est cum patre Deus, quidquid dici de Deo potes in
illum competit.’--Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 107.

[520] ‘Tantum nolebamus hoc _tyrannidis_ exemplum in ecclesiam
induci, ut is hereticus haberetur qui non ad alterius præscriptum
loqueretur.’--Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 120.

[521] Nos in Dei unius fidem jurasse, non Athanasii, cujus symbolum
nulla unquam legitima ecclesia approbasset.’--The Genevese to the
Bernese Ministers. MS. of Geneva, Feb. 1537. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 83.
Ruchat, v. pp. 24-30.

[522] ‘Totum illum saccum nostra refutatione sic exhausimus.’--Calvin
to Grynæus. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 107.

[523] Kampschulte, _Johann Calvin_, i. p. 296.

[524] ‘Quantum negotii nobis facturi sint _Galli illi_ ...
_seditiosi_.’--Megander to Bullinger, Mar. 8, 1537. Calv. _Opp._ x. p.
89.

[525] Registers of the Council, May 24, 1537.

[526] The authentic Acts of the Council of Berne are to be found in
Ruchat, v. p. 39. Calvin, _Opp._ x. p. 105.

[527] ‘Ne abjiciamus eum ab ecclesia, aut tanquam de fide male
sentientem notemus.’--Formula Concordiæ de Trinitate. Berne, Sept.
1537. Ruchat, v. p. 501.

[528] ‘Megander est Figuri natus, _Simia_ olim _Zwingli_
creditus.’--Conceni Epist. ad Neobulum, Feb. 2, 1538. Luther, _Opp._
Walch, xvii. p. 2602. Hunderhagen-Beylage, ii.

[529] Hunderhagen Conflikt, p. 65. Kirchhofer, B. Haller, p. 219.

[530] Buceri Epist. ad Lutherum, Jan. 19. 1537. Hunderhagen Conflikt,
p. 72.

[531] Hunderhagen Conflikt, pp. 73, 79.

[532] ‘Wie ich myn Husfrow z’ Strasburg yetzt sieh.’--- Original
Protocols of the class of Brugg. Hunderhagen Conflikte, p. 83.

[533] Descartes, _Réponses aux cinquièmes objections_. Nicole, _Essais
de Morale_.

[534] ‘Vitam spiritualem, quam nobis Christus largitur non in eo
duntaxat.’--Calv. _Opp._ ix. p. 711. Ruchat, v. p. 502. Henry Beylage,
5.

[535] Nec unquam sensi Christum dominum in sacra Cœna præ sentem
localiter.’--Calvin, _Opp._ ix. p. 711.

[536] Formula Concordiæ. Bernæ, Sept. 22, 1537. Hunderhagen Conflikte,
p. 90.

[537] Registers of the Council, July 3 and Sept. 1, 1537.

[538] Registers of the Council, July 27.

[539] _Ibid._ Sept. 11.

[540] See _Hist. of the Ref._, second series, vol. i. book 1; vol. ii.
book 3; vol. iii. book 5.

[541] ‘_Quibus leni primum admonitione_ ...’--Beza, _Vita Calvini_,
_p._ 5.

[542] Register of the Council, Nov. 12.

[543] See second series, vol. iii. book v. ch. 5.

[544] Registers, Nov. 12 and 15, 1537. Rozet, Chron. MS. of Geneva,
book iv. ch. 10.

[545] Rozet, _Chron. de Genève_, book iv. ch. 10. _Vie de Calvin_, p.
34, Gautier, _Hist. MS. de Genève_, book v.

[546] Registers, Nov. 25.

[547] Roget, _Peuple de Genève_, i. p. 51.

[548] Registers, Nov. 25, 1537. _Fragments historiques de Grenus.
Extraits de F. Rocco_, same date. Gautier, etc.

[549] Archives of Berne. Roget, _Peuple de Genève_, p. 57.

[550]... exultabam, et quis de successu tam bonæ causæ
dubitasset?’--Calvin to Bucer, Jan. 12, 1538. Calvin, _Opp._ x. p. 137.

[551] Registers, Dec. 10, 1537.

[552] Registers, Dec. 14, 1537.

[553] _Ibid._

[554] Registers, Dec. 15, 1537.

[555] Archives of Geneva. _Pièces historiques_, No. 1162. The original,
according to M. Reuss (Calv. _Opp._ p. 133), is dated Dec. 28. One copy
bears date Dec. 22.--[_Editor._]

[556] Registers of the day.

[557] Registers, Jan. 1, 1538.

[558] _Ibid._ Jan. 1 and 2.

[559] Roget, _L’Église et l’État de Genève du vivant de Calvin_.

[560] Registers, Jan. 3. Gautier, _Hist. MS. de Genève_, book vi.

[561] Racine.

[562] This order prevails in the United States of America. In each
flock distinction is made between the church, composed of communicants,
and the congregation, which consists of all those who, having religious
convictions, take part in all the service except the supper. From the
congregation the church is regularly recruited; and these two bodies,
united in charity together, contribute to the wants of the flock. [This
statement is equally true of the orthodox Dissenting churches of Great
Britain.--_Translator._]

[563] Registers, Jan. 3 and 4, 1538.

[564] Registers, Jan. 16. _Chron. MS. de Rozet_, book iv. ch. 10.

[565] Letters of Calvin and Tillet, published by the pastor Crottet. p.
38, etc.

[566] _Lettres françaises_, i. p. 2. Cal. _Op._, x. p. 147.

[567] _Lettres françaises_, i. pp. 1-7.

[568] Rozet, _Chron. MS. de Genève_, book iv. ch. 12.

[569] Registers, Feb. 1.

[570] Rozet, _Chron. MS. de Genève_, book iv. ch. 10.

[571] Registers, Feb. 12, 1538.

[572] Roget, _Peuple de Genève_, p. 72.

[573] Registers, Feb. 15 _et seq._ _Chron. MS. de Rozet_, book iv. ch.
14.

[574] Registers, March 11. _Chron. MS. de Rozet_, book iv. ch. 14.

[575] Calvin to Bullinger, Feb. 21, 1538 (Archives of Zurich). Calv.
_Opp._ x. p. 153.

[576] Actes du Chap. de Brugg. Stettler, Berner Chronik. Hunderhagen,
Conflikte, p. 91.

[577] ‘In summa hierum zanggten wir ein gut wyl.’--Actes originaux de
la Classe de Brugg. Hunderhagen, Conflikte, p. 101.

[578] ‘Die praedikanten von der Statt assend mit uns,’ etc.--_Ibid._ p.
103.

[579] Luther, _Epp._ v. p. 83.

[580] Kirchhofer, _B. Haller_, p. 203. Iselin, _Hist. Lexicon_.
Hunderhagen, Conflikte, p. 105. Hagenbach, _Gesch. d. ersten Baseler
Conf._ p. 90.

[581] ‘Quo nuntio perinde perculsi fuimus, ac si Bernensem ecclesiam
majore ex parte collapsam audissemus’--Calvin to Bucer. Henry, Beylage,
6, p. 36. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 138.

[582] ‘Sed quid ille aliud potest, quam suis deliramentis invertere
Evangelii puritatem?’--Henry, Beylage, p. 39. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 140.

[583] ‘Vultus, gestus, verba, color ipse furias, ut inquit,
spirabant.’--Calv. _Opp._ x, p. 141.

[584] ‘Nos ita capitaliter odit.’--Cal. _Opp._ x. p. 141.

[585] ‘Quos ad verbi ministerium erigit, dignos esse judicamus, qui in
patibulum tollantur.’--_Ibid._

[586] ‘Bonos viros, qui a nobis probati sunt, non audet coöptare, nisi
a tota ejus regionis cui destinantur classe, sint explorati.’--_Ibid._

[587] See _J. Calvins Leben_, by Paul Henry, Th. D., pastor at Berlin,
vol. i. Bevlage, 6, p. 40.

[588] Rozet, _Chron. MS. de Genève_, book iv. ch. 16.

[589] ‘Omnibus ministris qui vicinis ecclesiis præsunt
interdictum fuit ne quid haberent negotii nobiscum aut ullo modo
commnunicarent.’--Calvin to Bucer, Jan. 12. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 144.

[590] ‘Reddat Dominus Cunzeno juxta id quod meritus est. Qui perdere
pergunt ecclesiam, perdat eos Dominus.’--Farel’s Letter to Fabri, Jan.
14, 1538. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 145.

[591] Rozet, _Chron. MS. de Genève_, iv. ch. 16. Roget, _Peuple de
Genève_, p. 82.

[592] Bolsec, chap. viii.

[593] Kampschulte, _Johann Calvin_, i. p. 310. Roget, _Peuple de
Genève_, i. p. 83.

[594] ‘Quo jure circumcisio plus haberet honoris quam mors
Christi? ... Obmutescere coactus esset.’--Calvin to Haller, _Epp. et
Responsa_, p. 102. Hunderhagen Conflikte, p. 132.

[595] ‘Optimum erat remedium quo periculo obviaretur, si ad vestrum
synodum fuissemus vocati. Impetrari non potuit.’--Calv. ad Tigur.
Ratisb., Mar. 31, 1541. Archives of Zurich.

[596] Registers of the day. _Chron. MS. de Rozet_, book iv. ch. 13.
Roget, _Peuple de Genève_, pp. 84, 85.

[597] _France Protestante_, by M. Haag; article Bolsec.

[598] Registers of the day.

[599] ‘Um die Berner zu gewinnen und ernstlich in die Opposition gegen
jene (Calvin und Farel) zu verflechten.’--Hunderhagen, Conflikte, p.
133.

[600] _Chron. MS. of Rozet_, book iv. ch. 17.

[601] It was perhaps a reference to _Andrew_ Benoît, one of the
founders of the sect of the Spirituals at Geneva. See p. 299 of this
volume.--[EDITOR].

[602] Chénier, _Elég._ xxiii.

[603] Valla, _Antidot. in Poggium_, book iii. p. 357.

[604] This is the meaning of the above expression, which has been
misunderstood by some writers, who have taken it for a gross
insult.--See _Dict. de l’Académie_. Kampschulte, i. p. 310.

[605] Rozet, _Chron. MS. de Genève_, book iv. ch. 17. Gautier, Hist.
MS. book vi.

[606] Rozet, _ibid._

[607] Archives of Geneva. _Pièces historiques_, No. 2101. Calv. _Opp._
x. p. 189.

[608] Registers of the day. Gautier, _Hist. MS. de Genève_, book vi.

[609] ‘Seven days shall ye eat unleavened bread.’ Ex. xii. 15.

[610] Registers of the Council, April 20, 1538.

[611] Calvin to the Church of Geneva, Oct. 8, 1538.--_Archives de
Genève._ Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 251.

[612] ‘Papatus ejuratus; sed extrusa simul a plerisque non fuerant
indigna multa flagitia, quæ in ea urbe canonicis et impuro illi clero
tot annos addicta diu viguerant.’--Beza, _J. Calv. Vita_.

[613] ‘Veteres inter quasdam primarias familias inimicitiæ, bello
Sabaudico susceptæ, adhuc exercebantur.’--_Ibid._

[614] ‘Cum eo usque malum processisset ut civitas privatorum quorundam
factione, in diversas partes scinderetur.’--_Ibid._

[615] Rozet, _Chron. MS. de Genève_, book iv. ch. 15.

[616] _Ibid._

[617] ‘Quibus leni primum admonitione, deinde graviori adversus
refractarios increpatione, tollendis, quum nihil proficeret.’--Beza,
_J. Calv. Vita_.

[618] Calvin’s Farewell to the Genevese Ministers.--Bonnet, _Lettres
françaises_, ii. p. 575.

[619] Michel Rozet, son of Claude Rozet, who was at that time secretary
of the council and editor of the Register, was member of the Council of
Geneva for nearly sixty years. He was fourteen times elected syndic,
and was sent on thirty-four missions into Switzerland, France, and
Germany, and to Turin. He concluded several important treaties on
the part of Geneva. He was very young at the time of which we are
speaking, but as his father played a part there which enabled him to
become acquainted with all that took place, no one could be better
informed than Michel as to the facts of the period. If there be some
touches in the _Chroniques_ which are not found in the Registers of
the Council, that does not in any way invalidate his authority. There
are some details which a council is unwilling and ought not to insert
in its Registers. It is needless to speak of Theodore Beza, who was
unanimously elected to represent the Protestants at the famous Colloquy
of Poissy, and in honor of whom after his death poets of all nations
composed poems in Latin, Greek, and Hebrew to the number of fifty-four.

[620] Rabelais.

[621] ‘Doctrinæ potius animorumque urgeamus unitatem, quam cærimoniis
ad unguem conformandis morosius insistamus. Indignissimum est enim
ut in quibus libertatem Dominus reliquit ... servilem præterita
ædificatione conformitatem quæramus.’--_Catechismus, sive Christ,
relig. institutio_, _J. Calvino auctore_, _Basileæ_, anno MDXXXVIII.
Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 322.--Calvin printed this work in the year in which
he left Geneva; and not after but before his departure; _mense Martis_.
See also _Vie de Calvin_ (Bèze-Colladon), b. 30. Paris, 1864.

[622] ‘Nondum ea exstare nobis videbatur ecclesiæ facies quam legitima
muneris nostri administratio requireret.’--_Ibid._ p. 319.

[623] ‘Tunc vero acerrime urebat et discruciabat, quoties distribuenda
erat Domini Cœna.’--_Ibid._ p. 319.

[624] ‘Omnes tamen promiscue irrumpebant; et illi quidam iram Dei
vorabant potius quam vitæ sacramentum participabant.’--Calv. _Opp._ v.

[625] Rozet, _Chron. MS. de Genève_, iv. ch. 18.

[626] Calvin _sur le Psaume_ xxvii. 3.

[627] Bèze-Colladon, _Vie de Calvin_, p. 34.

[628] ‘Ut magno heroicoque spiritu præditi, Farellus et Calvinus ...
aperte testarentur....’--Beza, _Calvini Vita_.

[629] ‘Me non leviter perculsum fuisse.’--Calvin to the Zurich pastors.
Pridie Cal. Jun. Henry. Calvin, i. App. p. 82.

[630] ‘Incredibile vobis futurum scio si minimam partem vobis referam
molestiarum, vel potius miseriarum, quæ toto anno devorandæ nobis
fuerunt.’--Calvin, i. App. p. 82.

[631] ‘Nullum præteriisse diem quo non decies mortem optarem.’--_Ibid._

[632] Rozet, _Chron. MS. de Genève_, iv. ch. 16. Mém. of Farel and
Calvin to the Lords of Berne. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 188. Roget, _Peuple de
Genève_, p. 92.

[633] Rozet.

[634] Rozet, _Chron. MS. de Genève_, book iv. ch. 18.

[635] _Mémoir_ by Farel and Calvin to the Lords of Berne.--Calv. _Opp._
x. p. 189.

[636] Calvin, _Institution Chrétienne_, book iv. ch. 12, paragraphs 9
and 10.

[637] Roget, _L’église et l’état à Genève du temps de Calvin_, p. 5.

[638] Rozet, _Chron. MS. de Genève_, book iv. ch. 18.

[639] Calvin, _Comment. sur Saint Matthieu_, xxiii. 24.

[640] Registers of Councils, April 2. _Chron. MS. de Rozet_, book iv.
ch. 18.

[641] ‘Pro retinendo nostro ministerio non minus laboravimus quam si de
capitibus nostris certamen fuisset.’--Calvin to the Pastors of Zurich.
Prid. Cal. Jun.

[642] ‘Multo facilius tum fuisset, labanti ecclesiæ subvenire, quam
penitus perditam restituere.’--Calvin to the Pastors of Zurich.

[643] Eoque rem perducunt, _frustra_ sese Calvino, cum ejusdem
sententiæ collegis, ad reddendam _omnium_ rationem offerente.’--Beza,
_Vita Calvini_.

[644] Corneille and Bossuet.

[645] Bèze-Colladon, _Vie de Calvin_, p. 35. Beza says the same thing
in his Latin Life: Majore parte meliorem superante.

[646] Rozet, _Chron. MS. de Genève_, book iv, ch, 18. Registers, April
23.

[647] Registers, _Ibid._

[648] Registers, Beza’s Latin Life of Calvin, the French Life, Rozet
in his Chronicles, subsequently the syndic Gautier in his History, all
report this answer with unimportant variations.

[649] Ruchat, v. p. 66. Trechsel, i. p. 171, etc.

[650] ‘_Scheinbar_,’ Kampschulte, _J. Calvin_, p. 313.

[651] ‘Proinde ingratissima sumus, nisi nos illi devovemus
totos.’--Calvin, Omnibus Christi Evangel. religionem colentibus, 1538,
_Opp._ x. p. 321.

[652] Calvin, _Préface des Psaumes_, p. ix.

[653] See _Hist. of the Reform._ 2 series, vol. ii. book iii. ch. 6,
and Bonivard, _Avis des difformes réformateurs_, pp. 149-151.

[654] ‘Diligenter cavendum monet, ne simul conjugamur.’--Calvin to
Farel, Aug. 4, 1538 (Bibl. de Genève). Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 23.

[655] _Préface des Psaumes_, p. ix.

[656] ‘Deposita omni contumelia, prorsus a ducis arbitrio
pendere.’--Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 321.

[657] ‘Advertamus ad id quod Christus clamat: non posse servis suis
vulnus imprimi, quin ipse sibi inflictum imputet.’--_Ibid._

[658] ‘Ad vos peculiariter sermonem convertimus, O fratres,’
etc.--Calv. _Opp._ v. p. 321.

[659] ‘Sed vigescit potius, florescit, novisque incrementis
confirmatur.’--_Ibid._ p. 322.

[660] ‘Partim ut seditiosis illis ipsorum impetu subversis,’
etc.--Beza, _Calvini Vita_.

[661] ‘Tum vero magno cum bonorum omnium dolore tres illi edicto
parentes.’--Beza, _Calvini Vita_.

[662] Labruyère.

[663] Rozet, _Chron. MS. de Genève_, book iv. ch. 22, Gautier, _Hist.
MS. de Genève_, book vi. Spon, ii. p. 26.

[664] Rozet, _Chron. MS. de Genève_, book iv. ch. 18. Registers of the
Council, May 7, 10, 16, etc. Hist. MS. of Gautier, book vi.

[665] The Memoir is preserved in the archives of Geneva, _Pièces
historiques_, No. 1201.--Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 190.

[666] These words were uttered in London, in the House of Commons, May
9, 1871, by Sir Roundell Palmer (Lord Selborne), who made the most
remarkable speech against the proposal for separation of Church and
State.

[667] Archives of Geneva. _Pièces historiques_, No. 1201.--Calv. _Opp._
x. p. 188.

[668] Kirchhofer, _Das Leben Farels_, p. 244.

[669] ‘Cupimus a Bernatibus impetratum ut _fractionem panis_ nobiscum
accipiant’ (Articuli ipsa manu Calvini scripti, Conventu Tigurino
proposito).--Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 190. _See_ Matt. xxvi. 26; Luke xxiv.
30; 1 Cor. x. 16; xi. 24; Acts xx. 7.

[670] ‘Non tamen fenestram ardemus aperire tot turbis, quas jam
prospicimus, si aliter fiat.’--Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 190.

[671] ‘Barbaries enim et inhumanitas non ferenda!’--Calv. _Opp._ x. p.
190.

[672] ‘Continuing daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking
bread from house to house.’--Acts ii. 46. ‘Ut frequentior cœnæ usus
restituatur; si non secundum veteris ecclesiæ consuetudinem, at _saltem
singulis quibusque mensibus semel_.’--_Ibid._

[673] ‘Quum in lascivis et obscœnis cantilenis ac choreis ... e sua
ditione tales spurcitias eliminent.’--Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 190.

[674] _Ibid._ p. 204.

[675] ‘Humiliemur ergo nisi Deo inhumiliationem nostram tendenti
velimus obluctari.’--Calvin to Farel, Basel, Aug. 4, 1538. _Bibl. de
Genève._--Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 229.

[676] Calvin to Farel, Strasburg, Sept. 1538.--_Ibid._ p. 246.

[677] ‘Dass sie in etlicher Dingen hatten vielleicht zu streng gewesen,
und erklärten sich gern weisen zu lassen.’--Abschied des Tages zu
Zurich gehalten. Kirchhofer, _Farel’s Leben_, i. p. 244.

[678] ‘Bey diesem unerbauenen Volk christliche
Sanftmüthigkeit.’--_Ibid._

[679] ‘Otiosam enim functionem quidam tueri malunt quam fructuosam,
quidam licentiam pro Christi libertate induxerunt.’--Calv. _Opp._ p.
226. Capito to Farel.

[680] ‘Quod vos duo semel tantam urbem reformare non
potueritis.’--Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 227.

[681] Rozet, _Chron. MS. de Genève_, iv. ch. 20.

[682] Farel and Calvin to Bullinger; mid. June 1538. Calv. _Opp._ x. p.
20.

[683] Hundeshagen, Conflikte, p. 70.

[684] ‘Octavo demum die, postquam Bernam appuleramus, Cunzenum eo se
recepisse.’--Calvin to Bullinger, June, 1538; Henry, Beylage, p. 48.
Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 203.

[685] ‘Fides ecclesiæ Christi solenniter data.’--_Ibid._ p. 53. Calv.
_Opp._ x. p. 207.

[686] ‘Exorsus est Cunzenus longas expostulationes, a quibus ad
gravissimas contumelias prosiliit.’--_Ibid._ p. 49. Calv. _Opp._ p. 203.

[687] ‘Insanientem in extremam rabiem.’--_Ibid._

[688] ‘Nulla pæne syllaba erat, de qua non litigarent.’--Calv. _Opp._
x. p. 204.

[689] ‘Ille nullis rationibus auscultare, sed crudelius semper
debacchari.’--Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 204.

[690] ‘Ex abaco se proripuit; ac toto corpore sic ebulliebat, ut
injecta etiam manu retineri a collegis non posset.’--Calv. _Opp._ x. p.
50. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 204.

[691] Farel to Calvin, Sept. 6, 1540.

[692] Calvin to Bullinger. Berne, May 28, 1538.--Archives of Zurich.
Calvin, x. p. 201.

[693] ‘Ac ter una hora revocati.’--Calvin to Bucer. Henry, Beylage, p.
51. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 205.

[694] ‘Recepta autem fuerat a paucis seditiosis eodem decreto, quo in
Rhodanum præcipitari nos oportebat.’--Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 205.

[695] Calvin to Bullinger, Berne, May 20, 1538. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 201.

[696] ‘Constitit non procul mœnibus collocatas fuisse insidias; in ipsa
autem porta considebant armati viginti gladiatores.’--Calvin to Bucer;
Henry, Beylage, p. 52. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 206.

[697] ‘Jam unum milliare ab urbe aberramus, cum obviam prodiit nuntius
qui ingressum interdiceret.’--_Ibid._ The Roman mile is doubtless
meant, which was about 1,614 yards (1,472 mètres, or about one
kilomètre and a half). At this distance from Geneva the messenger met
the deputation, at Sécheron, where the hôtel d’Angleterre formerly
stood, near the country seats Bartholony and Paccard. According to the
first arrangement the reformers were to have stopped at a distance of
about four miles (or about six kilomètres), probably near the road
called du Saugy, leading to Genthod.

[698] Registers, May 22.

[699] Registers of the day. _Hist. MS. de Genève_, by Gautier, book vi.

[700] ‘Tanta gravitate Ludovicus Ammanus, alter legatus et Viretus,
qui Erasmi ac suo nomine loquebatur, causam tractarunt ut _flecti
multitudinis animi ad æquitatem_ viderentur.’--Calvin to Bullinger.
Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 206. Henry, p. 52. Gautier, MS. book vi. Kirchhofer,
_Leben Farels_, p. 249.

[701] ‘Clanculum illos submisit.’--Calvin to Bullinger, Henry, p. 52.
Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 207.

[702] Bonivard, _Ancienne et nouvelle police de Genève_, Mém. d’Arch.
v. p. 414.

[703] ‘Vandelius ille apud multos gloriose in via effutivit se venenum
nobis letale ferre.’--Calvin to Bullinger, Henry, p. 52. Calv. _Opp._
x. p. 207.

[704] ‘Ne antequam ipsi adessemus.’--Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 207.

[705] ‘Illis egressis, unus ex præsidibus senatus articulos nostros
recitare cœpit.’--_Ibid._

[706] ‘Ad conflandum nobis odium.’--_Ibid._

[707] Most dread, most mighty, high and magnificent lords, etc. The
formula employed in addressing the council.

[708] See the _Dict. de l’Acad. française_, and the definition of the
church in all languages.

[709] ‘Ita convenerat, ut illo recitante ad inflammandos animos plebis
acclamarent.’--Calvin to Bullinger, Henry, p. 52, Calv. _Opp._ x. p 206.

[710] ‘Valuerunt tamen illa flabella ad accendendos in rabiem omnium
animos.’--_Ibid._

[711] ‘Potius moriendum quam ut ad reddendam rationem
audiremus.’--Calvin to Bullinger, Henry, p. 52. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 206.

[712] Registers, 26 June. Rozet, _Chron. MS. de Genève_. Gautier,
_Hist. MS. de Genève_.

[713] ‘Nisi forte quod duplo aut triplo malum, quam antea, deterius
recruduit.’--Calvin to Bullinger, Henry, p. 53. Calv. _Opp._ x. 207.

[714] ‘Ut mature exsurgat.’--Calvin to Bullinger, Henry, p. 54 Calv.
_Opp._ x. 208.

[715] _Chron. MS. de Genève_, book iv. ch. 15, 22, 26.

[716] Gautier, _Hist. MS. de Genève_, book vi.

[717] ‘Nos nullæ fere veniæ dignos, si tam justam vocationem
abnueremus.’--Calvin to Viret. _Bibl. de Genève._ Calv. _Opp._ x. p.
202.

[718] ‘O scintillantes igne Satanæ oculos et accensum studium in
vestrum ministerium dejiciendum.’--Grynæus to Calvin and Farel. Calvin,
_Epp._ x. 196.

[719] ‘Pro eximio monumento Ecclesiæ nostræ complectimur.’--Grynæus to
Calvin, 1540.

[720] ‘Claudio Feræo quem _mecum vidisti Basileæ_.’--Calvin, _Epp._ p.
25, Mar. 1541, ed. 1575.

[721] ‘Servi simus pacis et concordiæ.’--Calvin, _Epp._ 11. _Opp._ x.
276.

[722] Calvin to Viret, Basel, June 14, 1538. _Bibl. de Genève._

[723] _Lettres françaises_, i. p. 9.

[724] Jean Zwick to Bullinger, May 17, 1538.

[725] ‘Veniemus quo tu voles,’ etc.--Calvin, _Epp._ p. 6. _Opp._ x. 67.

[726] Bonnet, _Lettres françaises de Calvin_, i. p. 9.

[727] Bonnet, _Lettres françaises de Calvin_, p. 10.

[728] ‘De integro tamen excusari, quoniam et adhibere non
poteram.’--Calvin to Farel, Henry. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 236.

[729] ‘Classis neocomensis ad ecclesias vicinas.’ April 29, 1541.

[730] ‘Licet valde refragati simus.’--Farel. Pastoribus Tigur. Apr. 30,
1541.

[731] ‘Solitæ tunc festinationi.’--Calvin to Farel, Aug. 4, 1538
(_Bibl. de Genève_). Calv. _Opp._ x. 228.

[732] Calvin, _Préface des Psaumes_.

[733] _Ibid._

[734] ‘Strenue Lutetiæ pro veritate depugnasset.’--Beza, _Vita Calvini_.

[735] ‘Miserrimi diei tormenta excipiunt acerbiores noctis
cruciatus.’--Calvin. _Epp._ p. 10. _Opp._ x. 273.

[736] ‘Suspicio cui velim nolim cogor locum aliquem dare.’--_Ibid._

[737] _Lettres françaises_, i. p. 23.

[738] Calvin, _Opp._ x. 266.

[739] Rather less than a hundred and fifty francs, which would be
equivalent to more than two thousand francs of the present day; or
about eighty pounds sterling.

[740] Maimbourg, _Histoire du Calvinisme_, book i.

[741] Calvin to Farel. Aug. 4, 1538. _Bibl. de Genève._ Calv. _Opp._ x.
p. 228.

[742] Roget, _Peuple de Genève_, p. 117.

[743] Registers of the Council. Rozet, _Chron. de Genève_. Gautier,
_Hist. MS. de Genève_. Roget, _Peuple de Genève_, etc.

[744] _Lettres françaises_, i. p. 11. See also Rozet, _Chron. de
Genève_, iv. ch. 26.

[745] Calvin, _Opp._ x. p. 275.

[746] _Archives de Genève._ Letters of Farel, of June 19, August 7, and
November 8. Roget, _Peuple de Genève_, p. 136. Calvin, _Opp._ x. p. 210.

[747] Fl. Raemond, _Naissance de l’hérésie_, book vii. ch. i.

[748] ‘Quibus tamquam lucidis gemmis, illa tua ecclesia
fulgebat.’--Beza, _Vita Calvini_, p. 6.

[749] Bochrich, _Mittheilungen aus der Gesch. der Ev. Kirch des
Elsass_, iii, p. 133.

[750] ‘Gallicam ecclesiam, constituta ecclesiastica disciplina
plantavit.’--Beza, _Vita Calvini_, p. 6. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 288.

[751] Letters of Calvin to Farel, 1538, etc. (_Bibl. de Genève._) Calv.
_Opp._ x. p. 273. Raemond, in _loc. cit._

[752] Calvin’s epistle to Grynæus, prefixed to the Comment. on Ep. to
the Romans.

[753] ‘Theologiam illic docuit magno cum doctorum omnium
applausu.’--Beza, _Vita Calvini_, p. 6.

[754] _De la Cène._ Calv. _Opp._ v. pp. 439, 440.

[755] Calv. _Opp._ v. pp. 458-460.

[756] ‘Salutabis Sturmium et Johannem Calvinum reverenter, quorum
libellos cum singulari voluptate legi.’--Luther, _Epp._ v. p. 211.
Calv. _Opp._ x. 402.

[757] ‘Helvetii si idem facerent, jam pax esset in hac controversia.’
The same thought was expressed by several churches. (Mecklenburg,
Churpfälz, Würtemberg, Pommern, etc., Kirchenordnungen.)

[758] ‘Quod ex Gallia multi propter Calvinum accesserunt studiosi
adolescentes atque etiam litterati viri.’--Sturm, _Antipapp._ vi. p. 21.

[759] ‘Ea enim mea nunc est conditio, ut _assem_ a me numerare
nequeam.’--Calv. _Epp._ edit. of 1575, p. 12. _Opp._ x. 332.

[760] Calvin to Farel. (_Bibl. de Genève._) _Opp._ x. 315.

[761] Calvin on Romans xii. 10; 1 John v. 1.

[762] Calvin to Bullinger, Strasburg, Mar. 12. (_Bibl. de Genève._)

[763] ‘Quia profectum nullum videt, mortem precatur.’--Calv. _Opp._ x.
p. 331.

[764] ‘Pergamus tamen usque ad ultimum spiritum.’--Calv. _Epp._, Mar.
1539.

[765] Calvin’s Letter to Farel, Aug. 4, 1538. Calv. _Opp._ x. 229.
Registers of the Council of Sept. 10, Nov. 28, and Dec. 26, 27, and
31. Rozet, _Chron. de Genève_, book iv. ch. 24. Gautier, _Hist. MS. de
Genève_, book vi. p. 332. Roget, _Hist._ pp. 123, 124.

[766] See their titles, _France Protestante_, vii, p. 60.

[767] Registers of the Council, Dec. 23 and 27, 1538. Rozet, iv. 26.
Roget, p. 140. Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 275.

[768] Registers, Dec. 24 and 27 and Jan. 8 and 9. Rozet, Gautier, _loc.
cit._

[769] Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 354. Letter of June 24, 1539, to the Church
of Geneva. ‘Nisi Calvinus serio monuisset ne ob istud ἀδιάφορον litem
moverent.’--Beza, _Calvini Vita_, p. 6.

[770] See second series, vol. ii. book iii. ch. 15.

[771] Book iv. ch. 28. Gautier, book vi. Registers of the day.

[772] Rozet, _Chron. de Genève_, book iv. ch. 27.

[773] ‘Cum Philippo fuit mihi multis de rebus colloquium.’--Calv.
_Epp._, Mar. 1539. _Opp._ x. p. 331.

[774] ‘Iis sine controversia ipse quidem assentitur.’--_Ibid._

[775] ‘Qui crassius aliquid requirunt; atque id tanta pervicacia, ne
dicam tyrannide.’--_Ibid._

[776] ‘Ut in tanta tempestate ventis adversis aliquantum
abscondamur.’--Calv. _Epp._, Mar. 1539. _Opp._ x. p. 331.

[777] ‘Formam quam tenent non procul esse a Judaismo.’--_Epp._, April
1539. _Opp._ x. p. 340.

[778] ‘Nimis abundarent in ritibus illis aut ineptis aut certe super
vacuis.’--_Ibid._

[779] ‘Nec sane justas esse puto discidii causas.’--_Epp._, April 1539.
_Opp._ x. p. 340.

[780] ‘Quod mollitiem animi ejus suspectam habeant.’--_Ibid._ p. 328.

[781] ‘Rex ipse vix dimidia ex parte sapit.’--_Epp._, April 1539.
_Opp._ x. p. 340.

[782] ‘Habet mutilum et semilacerum Evangelium, ecclesiam vero multis
adhuc nugis refertam.’--_Ibid._

[783] John Lambert.

[784] To Farel, June 21, 1540.

[785] ‘Post hoc vexit asinus quidam ... qui fune quodam post se
trahebat Cæsarem et Papam.’--_Corp. Reform._ iii. p. 640.

[786] ‘Asinum stantem duobus pedibus.’--Luther, _Epp._ v. p. 172.

[787] ‘Observata ejus temporis occasione, destitutum tantis pastoribus,
gregem facile se intercepturum arbitratus.’--Beza, _Vita Calvini_, p. 6.

[788] Registers, June 7, 1540.

[789] ‘Sadoletus magna eloquentia homo sed qua imprimis ad opprimendam
veritatis lucem abutetur.’--Beza, _Vita Calvini_, p. 6.

[790] Bèze-Colladon, _Vie de Calvin_, p. 38.

[791] See ‘Sadoleti Epistola ad Genevates.’--_Calvini Opera_, v. pp.
365-384. We cite the French edition, published at Geneva, 1860.

[792] Kampschulte, _Johann Calvin_, p. 353.

[793] ‘Magnum civitati in eo rerum statu damnum.’--Beza, _Vita
Calvini_, p. 6.

[794] Registers, Mar. 27, 28, etc. Rozet, _Chron. MS._ book iv. ch. 28.
Roget, p. 147.

[795] Registers of the day. Rozet, _Chron. MS._ book iv. ch. 28.
Gautier.

[796] Roget, i. p. 163.

[797] Registers, April 29, 1539. Report to the Lords of Berne. Rozet.
Gaberel.

[798] ‘Omnium injuriarum oblitus.’--Beza, _Vita Calvini_, p. 6.

[799] Bèze-Colladon, _Vie de Calvin_, p. 39.

[800] The original of this letter is in Latin. See Calv. _Opp._ v. pp.
385-416. Calvin translated it into French in 1540. Edition of Geneva,
1860.

[801] Calvin puts this passage into the mouth of any one of the
reformed appearing before the supreme tribunal:--‘Neque iis qui
prædicatione nostra edocti ad eamdem nobiscum causam accesserint,
deerit quod pro se loquantur quando hæc _cuique_ parata erit defensio:
Ego,’ etc. But there is no doubt that he is relating his own
history.--EDITOR.

[802] ‘Sadoleto optarem ut crederet Deum esse creatorem hominum, etiam
extra Italiam.’--Luther, _Epp._ v. p. 211. _Calvini Opera_, x. p. 402.

[803] ‘Ad tolerantiam adversus improbos ... et ad Dei invocationem
imprimis exhortetur.’--Beza, _Vita Calvini_, p. 7.

[804] Calvin’s letters to Farel, Sept. 1539, Oct. 8, 1539, and April
10, 1540. Calv. _Opp._ x. pp. 374-401.

[805] Ruchat, _Hist. de la Réform._ v. p. 134.

[806] Rozet, _Chron MS._ book iv. ch. xxxiii. Gautier, _Hist. MS._
vi. p. 356, says,--‘There were some ex-priests who visited at certain
houses, and whose proceedings were greatly suspected.’ We quote from
a copy revised by Gautier himself, which belongs to a member of his
family.

[807] Gautier, _Hist. MS._ iv. p. 356.

[808] Registers, Sept. 15 and 22, 1589. Rozet, _Chron. MS._ book
iv. ch. xxxiii. Gautier, book vi. pp. 356, 357. Gaberel, _Pièces
Justificatives_. Roget, _Peuple de Genève_, p. 157.

[809] Gautier, interpreting this speech, makes him say,--‘I do not
pride myself on making a sect apart.’

[810] ‘Sed centum potius aliæ mortes quam ilia crux, in qua millies
quotidie pereundum esset.’--Calvin to Farel, Strasburg, Mar. 29, 1540.
_Opp._ ix. p. 259.

[811] ‘Cur non potius ad crucem?’--Calvin to Viret, Strasburg, May 19,
1540. _Bibl. de Genève._

[812] Calvin to Farel, Strasburg, Oct. 1540. _Bibl. de Genève._

[813] ‘Ut expeditior multis tricis, Domino vacare possim.’--Calv.
_Opp._ ix. Bonnet, _Récits du seizième Siècle_, p. 81.

[814] Calvin on _Ephes._ v. 28-33.

[815] ‘Non sum enim ex insano amatorum genere, qui vitia etiam
exosculantur, ubi semel forma capti sunt.’--Calv. _Opp._ x. p. 348.

[816] ‘Meministi illud Phillippi _cogitare te de_ accipienda
uxore.’--Fontanius to Calvin, Jan. 1541. Bonnet, _Récits_.

[817] ‘Lectissima femina,’--Beza, _Vita Calvini_, p. 13.

[818] _Bulletin de Protestantisme français._

[819] Beza-Colladon, _Vie de Calvin_, p. 4.

[820] ‘Optima socia vitæ.’--Calvin to Viret, April 7, 1549. _Epp._
edition of 1575, p. 84.

[821] ‘Fida quidem ministerii mei adjutrix fuit. Ab ea ne minimum
quidem impedimentum unquam sensi.... Hæc animi magnitudo,’
etc.--_Ibid._

[822] _Lettres françaises de Calvin_, i. p. 28, to Du Tailly, July 1540.

[823] ‘Advenerat illud tempus quo constituerat Dominus Genevensis
Ecclesiæ misereri.’--Beza, _Vita Calvini_, p. 7.

[824] Gautier, _Hist. MS. de Genève_, book vi. p. 341.

[825] Rozet, _Chron. MS._ book iv. ch. xxix. Gautier, _Hist. MS._ book
vi. Registers of the Council.

[826] Registers, July 9, 24, and 25, August 5 and 6. Rozet, book iv.
ch. xxxi. Gautier.

[827] Registers of the day.

[828] Rozet, _Chron._ book iv. ch. xxxv. Registers. Gautier.

[829] Beza-Colladon, _Vie de Calvin_, p. 44.

[830] Registers. Rozet, Gautier, Roget.

[831] _Chron. de Rozet_, book iv. ch. xxxix. Gautier, Deposition of
Witnesses. Roget.

[832] Bonivard, _Ancienne et nouvelle police de Genève_, pp. 48-51.
Rozet, _Chron. MS._ ch. xxxix. Gautier, _Hist. MS._

[833] Rozet, _Chron. MS._ book iv. ch. xl.

[834] Bonivard, _Ancienne et nouvelle police de Genève_, p. 51. See
also Registers, Gautier, Bill of Indictment.

[835] Gautier, _Hist. MS._ book vi. p. 393. Rozet, _Chron. MS. de
Genève_, book iv. ch. xli.

[836] Rozet, _Chron. MS. de Genève_, book iv, ch. xli.

[837] ‘Zwei Tage später hielten die Sieger (die Frömme) in dem Rathhaus
ein öffentliches Freudenmahl.’--Kampschulte, _Johann Calvin_, p. 303.
This _Freudenmahl_ is a fable which the German writer too readily
accepted.

[838] ‘His veluti spumæ sordibus ejectis, civitas Farellum suum et
Calvinum cœpit requirere.’--Beza, _Vita Calvini_, p. 7.


Transcriber’s Note:

1. Obvious spelling, punctuation and printer’s errors have been
silently corrected.

2. Italics are shown as _xxx_, bold print is shown as =xxx=.

3. Unbalanced quotation marks were remedied when the change was
obvious, and otherwise left unbalanced.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 65984 ***