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.
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.
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.
MONTCHENU AT GENEVA.