The syndic Amblard had been also present at the ball, but he confessed his fault, listened to Calvin's remonstrances, and still remained his faithful friend; he even declared that it was only just that the rich should be punished as well as the poor. But Madame Perrin was not of such a meek disposition. No sooner had Calvin begun to address her, than she flew into a violent passion, and broke into invective and abuse. 'Oh, you wicked man!' said she, 'you would like to drink the blood of our family; but you will be turned out of Geneva before we are.' Calvin answered, 'Remember that you are a woman, and that you disgrace yourself by speaking in such a manner; you have banished every feeling of modesty from your thoughts and manners, but your temper will not prevent the Consistory from doing its duty. If there were as many crowns as there are empty heads in your family, you would not be able to change the current of ecclesiastical discipline. Build a new city if you want to live after your own fashion; but so long as you are in Geneva your efforts to shake off the yoke, of the Gospel will be in vain.' In consequence of this scene, Madame Perrin was imprisoned for several days, and from that time the cordial friendship which had united her husband to the reformer was replaced by implacable hatred.
Whatever was the object, and wherever the locality of the contest, whether in street or parlour, against an excited mob, or face to face with angry friends, whether to establish order or to uphold morality, Calvin's indomitable courage never failed. In 1547 a former canon, Jacques Gruet, one of the foremost Libertines, who had, according to the historians, 'concentrated all his hatred upon Calvin,' was one day seen loitering about St. Peter's church and going into it. A paper, evidently addressed to Calvin, was found in the pulpit: 'Pot-belly, you and your companions had better hold your tongues, for if you irritate us too far we will crush you to powder. When men have suffered more than they can bear, vengeance is at hand. … We will not have so many masters.' Gruet was arrested, and his papers were seized. Among them were some that were grossly blasphemous, ridiculing and attacking the Christian religion; [Footnote 96] whilst, on the other hand, there were proofs of his correspondence with the Court of Savoy, and of his willingness to betray the republic, and gratify, at the expense of the national independence, his hatred of Calvin, and the system which he had established.
[Footnote 96: Papers were found in his own handwriting in which he spoke of our Lord Jesus Christ and his apostles in the most blasphemous and offensive manner. 'The Word of God,' he said, 'is worth nothing, any more than those who made it. The Gospel is only a tissue of lies; there is less in it than in Æsop's Fables, except false and absurd doctrine.' (Henry, vol. ii. Appendix, 121; Gaberel, i. 391.) I have suppressed his coarse and violent language, which would be painfully offensive to every religious and moral nature.]
Gruet was tried, condemned, and executed as a blasphemer and traitor to his country. After his apprehension he was repeatedly put to the torture, but he refused to name any accomplices. A warning, however, came from the Pays de Vaud, in consequence of which the Genevese Council was informed that 'more than twenty persons had bound themselves by oath to throw Calvin into the Rhone.' The indignation of the faithful, and the irritation of the Libertines, had reached the highest point; and both indignation and irritation broke out at a meeting of the Two Hundred on the 16th of December, 1547. They had been called together on account of new complaints made by the pastors of 'the insolence, debauchery, dissolute manners, and enmity which tend to the ruin of this city.' Fresh proceedings had been instituted against the former syndic, Ami Perrin, but he had been acquitted for want of proof against him, though deprived of his official employment. Libertines and reformers were present at the meeting in about equal numbers; the debate was transformed into a tumult, and violent threats were uttered against the pastors and the Consistory. Some of their friends, terrified at the proceedings, left hastily to warn Calvin and his colleagues not to attend the meeting of the Council. 'Wait a few moments for me,' said Calvin, and went out alone, walked direct to the Hôtel de Ville, and entered the meeting unexpectedly. He was received with loud outcries, and it is said that several swords were drawn. He said: 'I know that I am the chief cause of your quarrels, and if blood must be shed to appease them, take my life, for I call God to witness that I am come to expose myself to your swords.' There is sometimes one happy moment in which courage conquers anger; the Council grew calm, the members took their seats, and Calvin continued: 'There is nothing except religion which can make you free, and secure your liberty; but in order to obtain this you must be united, and if my presence is an insuperable obstacle to the maintenance of peace, I will leave the city, and will pray to God that those men who desire to live without Christianity and law may save the republic, and maintain its prosperity.' The reaction was as sudden as the explosion. The Council voted oblivion of the past, and the reconciliation of the opponents. Calvin and one of his colleagues made the first advance: 'Gentlemen,' said they, 'the Lord's Supper is at hand: we wish to unite all hearts, and we desire to offer the hand of friendship to M. Ami Perrin, and we beg, gentlemen, that you will reinstate him in his office of councillor.' 'As for me,' answered Perrin, 'I bring no complaint against any one, I do not wish evil to any one, and I desire to live in peace.' Three months later he was restored to office, and the opponents, whether Christians or Libertines, for a short time imagined themselves to be reconciled.
Chapter XV.
Division Of The Religious And Civil Authorities On The Question Of The Lord's Supper.
But however sincere a reconciliation may be, it is seldom so thorough as to put an end to the difficulties which first caused the quarrel. When Calvin proposed that the past should be forgotten, and that there should be peace on the approach of the Lord's Supper, he raised that question which offered precisely the most serious difficulty to the members of the two hostile parties. They were still divided as to whether the religious or the civil authorities had the right of refusing the sacrament to, and pronouncing sentence of excommunication upon, those whom they deemed unworthy. Such a difficulty could not arise in any free country in our own time, or indeed in any country where the meaning of faith and religious liberty are known. The Lord's Supper is administered by the religious authorities under a sense of religious responsibility, and in the name of the religious belief common to the pastors and their flock. It is for them alone to decide those cases in which, for religious reasons, they think it their duty to refuse it; and the civil power has no right to interfere in this close communion of the conscience of the priest with that of the believer. It is true that ecclesiastics have often abused the right of excommunication, and have thus provoked tyrannical intervention on the part of the civil power—like that of the 'Parlement' of Paris, for example, which occasionally compelled a priest, in olden times, to administer the Lord's Supper to those to whom he had refused it. The magistrates of Geneva, from motives of prudence and to avoid what they called scandal, claimed the same right; and a short time after Calvin's return they maintained that they, and not the Consistory, ought to pronounce sentence of excommunication, and that it was the duty of the pastor to administer the sacrament to all those authorized by the Council to receive it. Calvin immediately declared that he would sacrifice everything and return into exile rather than admit such a claim. Not that he held any fixed and preconceived doctrine on the subject; his point of view was not that of a fanatical theologian, but of a religious ruler. He wrote to Bullinger: 'Since my return to this church we have instituted a kind of religious discipline which is not perfect in itself, and leaves much to be desired, but which, on the whole, accomplishes its aim. A Consistory has been established for the supervision of morals; it has no civil jurisdiction, and can only restrain evil-doers in accordance with the Word of God, and as the chief representative of God,—that is, it can exclude from the Lord's Supper. … I know that our friends are not all of one mind upon this subject; there are some learned and pious men who think that excommunication is not necessary under a Christian government, but no sane person would be so infatuated as to condemn and abolish it where it is already established. So far as I am concerned, the teaching of our Lord on this point seems to me perfectly clear, and I believe you will allow that, for us at least, it would be a great disgrace and a fatal defeat, if the edifice of which our Lord has appointed us the guardians was to be destroyed beneath our eyes.' [Footnote 97] The Libertines at once saw the advantage which they might derive from this disagreement between the Council and the Pastors; they ranged themselves on the side of the Council, and Berthelier, one of their most violent partisans,—a man whose incredulity and immorality were known to all,—presented himself at the Lord's Supper, and was excommunicated by the Consistory. He complained to the Council, which declared that it would not ratify the sentence, and that 'if Berthelier had no impediment in his own conscience which hindered him from approaching the table of the Lord, the Council authorized him to do so.' 'Gentlemen,' said Calvin, 'as for me I would rather suffer death than allow the table of my Lord to be profaned in such a manner.'
[Footnote 97: Stähelin, i. 459, 460.]
The magistrates knew him well enough to feel that these were not mere words. They were intimidated, and sent a private message to Berthelier, saying: 'If you can stay away for the present, you will do well.' But, unlike the magistrates, the Libertine and his friends had no desire to avoid an open rupture. On Sunday the 3d of September, 1553, St. Peter's church was filled by a large and excited crowd; the pastors and elders filled the benches of the Consistory; the Libertines thronged in the vicinity of the communion table. Calvin mounted the pulpit, and preached with great calmness upon the state of mind and heart necessary for those who would approach the table of the Lord; he ended his sermon by saying: As for me, so long as it shall please God to keep me here, since he has given me resolution and I have derived it from him, I shall not fail to exercise it when there is need; and I will rule my life in accordance with the will of my Master, which is quite clear and well known to me. … We are now about to receive the holy sacrament; and if any one who has been excommunicated by the Consistory tries to approach that table, at the risk of my life I am prepared to do my duty.' He descended from the pulpit, and approached and blessed the table of the Lord's Supper. The Libertines drew near, and several among them made a movement forward as if to seize the bread and wine. Calvin spread his hands over the sacred elements, and cried out: 'You may break these limbs, you may cut off my arms, you may take my life! Shed my blood if you will; it is yours! But never shall any one compel me to give things that are sacred to the profane, and to dishonour the table of my God.' The Libertines hesitated; they looked at each other, and looked around them; a murmur which threatened danger was spreading throughout the hitherto silent assembly; they drew back from the table, the crowd opened for their passage, and the sacrament was then administered in silence to the excited and agitated believers.