The Protest of Spires and the Confession at Augsburg were followed by years of conflict and darkness. Weakened by divisions, Protestantism seemed destined to be destroyed.
(HF 133.1)
But in the moment of his apparent triumph, the emperor was smitten with defeat. He was forced at last to grant toleration to the doctrines which it had been the ambition of his life to destroy. He saw his armies wasted by battle, his treasuries drained, his many kingdoms threatened by revolt, while everywhere the faith he had endeavored to suppress was extending. Charles V had been battling against omnipotent power. God had said, “Let there be light,” but the emperor had sought to keep the darkness unbroken. Worn out with the long struggle, he abdicated the throne and buried himself in a cloister.
(HF 133.2)
In Switzerland, while many cantons accepted the reformed faith, others clung to the creed of Rome. Persecution gave rise to civil war. Zwingli and many who had united in reform fell on the bloody field of Cappel. Rome was triumphant and in many places seemed about to recover all that she had lost. But God had not forsaken His cause or His people. In other lands He raised up laborers to carry forward the reform.
(HF 133.3)
In France, one of the first to catch the light was Lefevre, a professor in the University of Paris. In his researches into ancient literature, his attention was directed to the Bible, and he introduced its study among his students. He had undertaken to prepare a history of the saints and martyrs as given in the legends of the church, and had already made considerable progress in it, when, thinking that he might obtain assistance from the Bible, he began its study. Here indeed he found saints, but not such as figured in the Roman [Catholic Church] calendar. In disgust he turned away from his self-appointed task and devoted himself to the Word of God.
(HF 133.4)
In 1512, before either Luther or Zwingli had begun the work of reform, Lefevre wrote, “It is God who gives us, by faith, that righteousness which by grace alone justifies to eternal life.” And while teaching that the glory of salvation belongs solely to God, he also declared that the duty of obedience belongs to man.
(HF 134.1)
Some among Lefevre’s students listened eagerly to his words and long after the teacher’s voice was silenced, continued to declare the truth. Such was William Farel. The son of pious parents and a devoted Romanist, he burned with zeal to destroy all who should dare to oppose the church. “I would gnash my teeth like a furious wolf,” he afterward said, “when I heard anyone speaking against the pope.” But adoration of the saints, worshiping at the altars, and adorning with gifts the holy shrines could not bring peace of soul. Conviction of sin fastened upon him, which all acts of penance failed to banish. He listened to Lefevre’s words: “Salvation is of grace.”“It is the cross of Christ alone that openeth the gates of heaven, and shutteth the gates of hell.”
(HF 134.2)
By a conversion like that of Paul, Farel turned from the bondage of tradition to the liberty of the sons of God. “Instead of the murderous heart of a ravening wolf,” he came back, he says, “quietly like a meek and harmless lamb, having his heart entirely withdrawn from the pope, and given to Jesus Christ.”
(HF 134.3)
While Lefevre spread the light among students, Farel went forth to declare the truth in public. A dignitary of the church, the bishop of Meaux, soon united with them. Other teachers joined in proclaiming the gospel, and it won adherents from the homes of artisans and peasants to the palace of the king. The sister of Francis I accepted the reformed faith. With high hopes the Reformers looked forward to the time when France should be won to the gospel.
(HF 134.4)
But their hopes were not to be realized. Trial and persecution awaited the disciples of Christ. However, a time of peace intervened, that they might gain strength to meet the tempest; and the Reformation made rapid progress. Lefevre undertook the translation of the New Testament; and at the very time when Luther’s German Bible issued from the press in Wittenberg, the French New Testament was published at Meaux. Soon the peasants of Meaux were in possession of the Holy Scriptures. The laborers in the field, the artisans in the workship, cheered their daily toil by talking of the precious truths of the Bible. Though belonging to the humblest class, an unlearned and hardworking peasantry, the reforming, uplifting power of divine grace was seen in their lives.
(HF 135.1)
The light kindled at Meaux shed its beams afar. Every day the number of converts was increasing. The rage of the hierarchy was for a time held in check by the king, but the papal leaders finally prevailed. The stake was set up. Many witnessed for the truth amid the flames.
(HF 135.2)
In the lordly halls of the castle and the palace there were kingly souls by whom truth was valued above wealth or rank or even life. Louis de Berquin was of noble birth, devoted to study, polished in manners, and of blameless morals. “He crowned all his other virtues by holding Lutheranism in special abhorrence.” But, providentially guided to the Bible, he was amazed to find there “not the doctrines of Rome, but the doctrines of Luther.” He gave himself to the cause of the gospel.
(HF 135.3)
The Romanists of France thrust him into prison as a heretic, but he was set at liberty by the king. For years, Francis wavered between Rome and the Reformation. Berquin was three times imprisoned by the papal authorities, only to be released by the monarch, who refused to sacrifice him to the malice of the hierarchy. Berquin was repeatedly warned of the danger that threatened him in France and urged to follow the steps of those who had found safety in voluntary exile.
(HF 135.4)
But Berquin’s zeal only waxed stronger. He determined upon bolder measures. He would not only stand in defense of the truth, he would attack error. The most active of his opponents were the learned monks of the theological department in the University of Paris, one of the highest ecclesiastical authorities in the nation. From the writings of these doctors, Berquin drew twelve propositions which he publicly declared to be “opposed to the Bible,” and he appealed to the king to act as judge in the controversy.
(HF 136.1)
The monarch, glad of an opportunity of humbling the pride of these haughty monks, bade the Romanists defend their cause by the Bible. This weapon would avail them little; torture and the stake were arms which they better understood how to wield. Now they saw themselves about to fall into the pit into which they had hoped to plunge Berquin. They looked about them for some way of escape.
(HF 136.2)
“Just at that time an image of the virgin at the corner of one of the streets was mutilated.” Crowds flocked to the place, with mourning and indignation. The king was deeply moved. “These are the fruits of the doctrines of Berquin,” the monks cried. “All is about to be overthrown—religion, the laws, the throne itself—by this Lutheran conspiracy.”
(HF 136.3)
The king withdrew from Paris, and the monks were left free to work their will. Berquin was tried and condemned to die, and lest Francis should interpose to save him, the sentence was executed on the very day it was pronounced. At noon an immense throng gathered to witness the event, and many saw with astonishment that the victim had been chosen from the best and bravest of the noble families of France. Amazement, indignation, scorn, and bitter hatred darkened the faces of that surging crowd, but upon one face no shadow rested. The martyr was conscious only of the presence of his Lord.
(HF 136.4)
Berquin’s countenance was radiant with the light of heaven. He wore “a cloak of velvet, a doublet of satin and damask, and golden hose.” He was about to testify to his faith in the presence of the King of kings, and no token of mourning should belie his joy.
(HF 137.1)
As the procession moved slowly through the crowded streets, the people marked with wonder the joyous triumph of his bearing. “He is,” they said, “like one who sits in a temple, and meditates on holy things.”
(HF 137.2)
At the stake, Berquin endeavored to address a few words to the people; but the monks began to shout and the soldiers to clash their arms, and their clamor drowned the martyr’s voice. Thus in 1529 the highest ecclesiastical authority of cultured Paris “set the populace of 1793 the base example of stifling on the scaffold the sacred words of the dying.” Berquin was strangled, and his body was consumed in the flames.
(HF 137.3)
Teachers of the reformed faith departed to other fields. Lefevre made his way to Germany. Farel returned to his native town in eastern France, to spread the light in the home of his childhood. The truth which he taught found listeners. Soon he was banished from the city. He traversed the villages, teaching in private dwellings and secluded meadows, finding shelter in the forests and among rocky caverns which had been his haunts in boyhood.
(HF 137.4)
As in apostolic days, persecution had “fallen out rather unto the furtherance of the gospel.” Philippians 1:12. Driven from Paris and Meaux, “they that were scattered abroad went everywhere preaching the word.” Acts 8:4. And thus the light found its way into many remote provinces of France.
(HF 137.5)
In one of the schools of Paris was a thoughtful, quiet youth marked for the blamelessness of his life, for intellectual ardor, and for religious devotion. His genius and application made him the pride of the college, and it was confidently anticipated that John Calvin would become one of the ablest defenders of the church.
(HF 138.1)
But a ray of divine light penetrated the walls of scholasticism and superstition by which Calvin was enclosed. Olivetan, a cousin of Calvin, had joined the Reformers. The two kinsmen discussed together the matters disturbing Christendom. “There are but two religions in the world,” said Olivetan, the Protestant. “The one ... which men have invented, in ... which man saves himself by ceremonies and good works; the other is that one religion which is revealed in the Bible, and which teaches man to look for salvation solely from the free grace of God.”
(HF 138.2)
“I will have none of your new doctrines,” exclaimed Calvin; “think you that I have lived in error all my days?” But alone in his chamber he pondered his cousin’s words. He saw himself without an intercessor in the presence of a holy and just Judge. Good works, the ceremonies of the church, all were powerless to atone for sin. Confession, penance, could not reconcile the soul with God.
(HF 138.3)
Chancing one day to visit one of the public squares, Calvin witnessed the burning of a heretic. Amid the tortures of that dreadful death and under the terrible condemnation of the church, the martyr manifested a faith and courage which the young student painfully contrasted with his own despair and darkness. Upon the Bible, he knew, the “heretics” rested their faith. He determined to study it and discover the secret of their joy.
(HF 138.4)
In the Bible he found Christ. “0 Father,” he cried, “His sacrifice has appeased Thy wrath; His blood has washed away my impurities; His cross has borne my curse; His death has atoned for me.... Thou hast touched my heart, in order that I may hold in abomination all other merits save those of Jesus.”
(HF 139.1)
Now he determined to devote his life to the gospel. But he was naturally timid and desired to devote himself to study. The earnest entreaties of his friends, however, at last won his consent to become a public teacher. His words were as dew falling to refresh the earth. He was now in a provincial town under the protection of the princess Margaret, who, loving the gospel, extended her protection to its disciples. Calvin’s work began with the people at their homes. Those who heard the message carried the good news to others. He went forward, laying the foundation of churches that were to yield fearless witnesses for the truth.
(HF 139.2)
Paris was to receive another invitation to accept the gospel. The call of Lefevre and Farel had been rejected, but again the message was to be heard by all classes in that great capital. The king had not yet fully sided with Rome against the Reformation. Margaret resolved that the reformed faith should be preached in Paris. She ordered a Protestant minister to preach in the churches. This being forbidden by the papal dignitaries, the princess threw open the palace. It was announced that every day a sermon would be preached, and the people were invited to attend. Thousands assembled every day.
(HF 139.3)
The king ordered that two of the churches of Paris should be opened. Never had the city been so moved by the Word of God. Temperance, purity, order, and industry were taking the place of drunkenness, licentiousness, strife, and idleness. While many accepted the gospel, the majority of the people rejected it. The papists succeeded in regaining the ascendancy. Again the churches were closed, and the stake was set up.
(HF 139.4)
Calvin was still in Paris. At last the authorities determined to bring him to the flames. He had no thought of danger when friends came hurrying to his room with the news that officers were on their way to arrest him. At that instant a loud knocking was heard at the outer entrance. There was not a moment to be lost. Friends detained the officers at the door, while others assisted the Reformer to let himself down from a window, and he rapidly made his way to the cottage of a laborer who was a friend to the reform. He disguised himself in the garments of his host, and, shouldering a hoe, started on his journey. Traveling southward, he again found refuge in the dominions of Margaret.
(HF 140.1)
Calvin could not long remain inactive. As soon as the storm had somewhat abated, he sought a new field of labor in Poitiers, where already the new opinions had found favor. Persons of all classes gladly listened to the gospel. As the number of hearers increased, it was thought safer to assemble outside the city. A cave where trees and overhanging rocks made the seclusion complete was chosen as the place of meeting. In this retired spot the Bible was read and explained. Here the Lord’s Supper was celebrated for the first time by the Protestants of France. From this little church several faithful evangelists were sent out.
(HF 140.2)
Once more Calvin returned to Paris, but he found almost every door of labor closed. He at last determined to depart to Germany. Scarcely had he left France when a storm burst over the Protestants. The French Reformers determined to strike a bold blow against the superstitions of Rome that should arouse the whole nation. Placards attacking the mass were in one night posted all over France. This zealous but ill-judged movement gave the Romanists a pretext for demanding the destruction of the “heretics” as agitators dangerous to the throne and the peace of the nation.
(HF 140.3)
One of the placards was attached to the door of the king’s private chamber. The unexampled boldness of obtruding these startling utterances into the royal presence aroused the wrath of the king. His rage found utterance in the terrible words: “Let all be seized without distinction who are suspected of Lutheresy. I will exterminate them all.” The king had determined to throw himself fully on the side of Rome.
(HF 140.4)
A poor adherent of the reformed faith who had been accustomed to summon the believers to their secret assemblies was seized. With the threat of instant death at the stake, he was commanded to conduct the papal emissary to the home of every Protestant in the city. Fear of the flames prevailed, and he consented to betray his brethren. Morin, the royal detective, with the traitor, slowly and silently passed through the streets of the city. On arriving opposite the house of a Lutheran, the betrayer made a sign, but no word was uttered. The procession halted, the house was entered, the family were dragged forth and chained, and the terrible company went forward in search of fresh victims. “Morin made all the city quake.... It was a reign of terror.”
(HF 141.1)
The victims were put to death with cruel torture, it being specially ordered that the fire should be lowered in order to prolong their agony. But they died as conquerors, their constancy unshaken, their peace unclouded. Their persecutors felt themselves defeated. “All Paris was enabled to see what kind of men the new opinions could produce. There was no pulpit like the martyr’s pile. The serene joy that lighted up the faces of these men as they passed along ... to the place of execution ... pleaded with resistless eloquence in behalf of the gospel.”
(HF 141.2)
Protestants were charged with plotting to massacre the Catholics, to overthrow the government, and to murder the king. Not a shadow of evidence could be produced in support of the allegations. Yet the cruelties inflicted upon the innocent Protestants accumulated in a weight of retribution, and in after-centuries wrought the very doom they had predicted upon the king, his government, and his subjects. But it was brought about by infidels and by the papists themselves. The suppression of Protestantism was to bring upon France these dire calamities.
(HF 141.3)
Suspicion, distrust, and terror now pervaded all classes of society. Hundreds fled from Paris, self-constituted exiles from their native land, in many cases thus giving the first intimation that they favored the reformed faith. The papists looked about them in amazement at thought of the unsuspected “heretics” that had been tolerated among them.
(HF 142.1)
Francis I had delighted to gather at his court men of letters from every country. But, inspired with zeal to stamp out heresy, this patron of learning issued an edict declaring printing abolished all over France! Francis I presents one among the many examples on record showing that intellectual culture is not a safeguard against religious intolerance and persecution.
(HF 142.2)
The priests demanded that the affront offered to high Heaven in the condemnation of the mass be expiated in blood. January 21, 1535, was fixed upon for the awful ceremonial. Before every door was a lighted torch in honor of the “holy sacrament.” Before daybreak the procession formed at the palace of the king.
(HF 142.3)
“The host was carried by the bishop of Paris under a magnificent canopy, ... supported by four princes of the blood.... After the host walked the king.... Francis I on that day wore no crown, nor robe of state.” At every altar he bowed in humiliation, not for the vices that defiled his soul, nor the innocent blood that stained his hands, but for the “deadly sin” of his subjects who had dared to condemn the mass.
(HF 142.4)
In the great hall of the bishop’s palace the monarch appeared and in words of moving eloquence bewailed “the crime, the blasphemy, the day of sorrow and disgrace,” that had come upon the nation. And he called upon every loyal subject to aid in the extirpation of the pestilent “heresy” that threatened France with ruin. Tears choked his utterance, and the whole assembly wept, with one accord exclaiming, “We will live and die for the Catholic religion!”
(HF 142.5)
“The grace that bringeth salvation” had appeared, but France, illuminated by its radiance, had turned away, choosing darkness rather than light. They had called evil good, and good evil, till they had fallen victims to their wilful self-deception. The light that would have saved them from deception, from staining their souls with blood-guiltiness, they had willfully rejected.
(HF 143.1)
Again the procession formed. “At short distances scaffolds had been erected on which certain Protestant Christians were to be burned alive, and it was arranged that the fagots should be lighted at the moment the king approached, and that the procession should halt to witness the execution.” There was no wavering on the part of the victims. On being urged to recant, one answered: “I only believe in what the prophets and the apostles formerly preached, and what all the company of saints believed. My faith has a confidence in God which will resist all the powers of hell.”15
(HF 143.2)
Upon reaching the palace, the crowd dispersed and the king and the prelates withdrew, congratulating themselves that the work would be continued to the complete destruction of “heresy.”
(HF 143.3)
The gospel of peace which France rejected was to be too surely rooted out, and terrible would be the results. On January 21, 1793, another procession passed through the streets of Paris. “Again the king was the chief figure; again there were tumult and shouting; again there was heard the cry for more victims; again there were black scaffolds; and again the scenes of the day were closed by horrid executions; Louis XVI, struggling hand to hand with his jailers and executioners, was dragged forward to the block, and there held down by main force till the axe had fallen, and his dissevered head rolled on the scaffold.” Near the same spot 2800 human beings perished by the guillotine.
(HF 143.4)
The Reformation had presented to the world an open Bible. Infinite Love had unfolded to men the principles of heaven. When France rejected the gift of heaven, she sowed seeds of ruin. The inevitable outworking of cause and effect resulted in the Revolution and the Reign of Terror.
(HF 144.1)
The bold and ardent Farel had been forced to flee from the land of his birth to Switzerland. Yet he continued to exert a decided influence upon the reform in France. With the assistance of other exiles, the writings of the German Reformers were translated into French and together with the French Bible were printed in large quantities. By colporteurs these works were sold extensively in France.
(HF 144.2)
Farel entered upon his work in Switzerland in the humble guise of a schoolmaster, cautiously introducing the truths of the Bible. Some believed, but the priests came forward to stop the work, and superstitious people were roused to oppose it. “That cannot be the gospel of Christ,” urged the priests, “seeing the preaching of it does not bring peace, but war.”
(HF 144.3)
From village to village he went, enduring hunger, cold, and weariness, and everywhere in peril of his life. He preached in the marketplace, in the churches, sometimes in the pulpits of the cathedrals. More than once he was beaten almost to death. Yet he pressed forward. One after another he saw towns and cities which had been strongholds of popery opening their gates to the gospel.
(HF 144.4)
Farel had desired to plant the Protestant standard in Geneva. If this city could be won, it would be a center for the Reformation in France, Switzerland, and Italy. Many of the surrounding towns and hamlets had been gained.
(HF 144.5)
With a single companion he entered Geneva. But only two sermons was he permitted to preach. The priests summoned him before an ecclesiastical council, to which they came with arms concealed under their robes, determined to take his life. A furious mob was gathered to make sure of his death if he should escape the council. The presence of magistrates and an armed force, however, saved him. Early next morning he was conducted across the lake to a place of safety. Thus ended his first effort to evangelize Geneva.
(HF 144.6)
For the next trial a lowlier instrument was chosen—a young man so humble in appearance that he was coldly treated even by the professed friends of reform. But what could such a one do where Farel had been rejected? “God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty.” 1 Corinthians 1:27.
(HF 145.1)
Froment began his work as a schoolmaster. The truths which he taught the children at school they repeated at their homes. Soon the parents came to hear the Bible explained. New Testaments and tracts were freely distributed. After a time this laborer also was forced to flee, but the truths he taught had taken hold upon the minds of the people. The Reformation had been planted. The preachers returned, and Protestant worship was finally established in Geneva.
(HF 145.2)
The city had already declared for the Reformation when Calvin entered its gates. He was on his way to Basel when forced to take the circuitous route by Geneva.
(HF 145.3)
In this visit Farel recognized the hand of God. Though Geneva had accepted the reformed faith, yet the work of regeneration must be wrought in the heart by the power of the Holy Spirit, not by the decrees of councils. While the people of Geneva had cast off the authority of Rome, they were not so ready to renounce the vices that had flourished under her rule.
(HF 145.4)
In the name of God Farel solemnly adjured the young evangelist to remain and labor there. Calvin drew back in alarm. He shrank from contact with the bold and even violent spirit of the Genevese. He desired to find a quiet retreat for study, and there, through the press, instruct and build up the churches. But he dared not refuse. It seemed to him “that the hand of God was stretched down from heaven, that it lay hold of him, and fixed him irrevocably to the place he was so impatient to leave.”
(HF 145.5)
The anathemas of the pope thundered against Geneva. How was this little city to resist the powerful hierarchy that had forced kings and emperors to submission?
(HF 146.1)
The first triumphs of the Reformation past, Rome summoned new forces to accomplish its destruction. The order of the Jesuits was created, the most cruel, unscrupulous, and powerful of all the champions of popery. Dead to the claims of natural affection, and conscience wholly silenced, they knew no rule, no tie, but that of their order. (See Appendix)
(HF 146.2)
The gospel of Christ had enabled its adherents to endure suffering, undismayed by cold, hunger, toil, and poverty, to uphold truth in face of the rack, the dungeon, and the stake. Jesuitism inspired its followers with a fanaticism that enabled them to endure like dangers, and to oppose to the power of truth all the weapons of deception. There was no crime too great to commit, no deception too base to practice, no disguise too difficult for them to assume. It was their studied aim to overthrow Protestantism and reestablish papal supremacy.
(HF 146.3)
They wore a garb of sanctity, visiting prisons and hospitals, ministering to the sick and the poor, and bearing the sacred name of Jesus, who went about doing good. But under this blameless exterior, criminal and deadly purposes were often concealed.
(HF 146.4)
It was a fundamental principle of the order that the end justifies the means. Lying, theft, perjury, assassination, were commendable when they served the interests of the church. Under disguise the Jesuits worked their way into offices of state, climbing up to be the counselors of kings and shaping the policy of nations. They became servants to act as spies upon their masters. They established colleges for princes and nobles, and schools for the common people. The children of Protestant parents were drawn into an observance of popish rites. Thus the liberty for which the fathers had toiled and bled was betrayed by the sons. Wherever the Jesuits went, there followed a revival of popery.
(HF 146.5)
To give them greater power, a bull was issued reestablishing the Inquisition. This terrible tribunal was again set up by popish rulers, and atrocities too terrible to bear the light of day were repeated in its secret dungeons. In many countries thousands upon thousands of the very flower of the nation, the most intellectual and highly educated, were slain or forced to flee to other lands. (See Appendix)
(HF 147.1)
Such were the means which Rome invoked to quench the light of the Reformation and to restore the ignorance and superstition of the Dark Ages. But under God’s blessings and the labors of noble men whom He raised up to succeed Luther, Protestantism was not overthrown. Not to the arms of princes was it to owe its strength. The humblest and least powerful nations became its strongholds. It was little Geneva; it was Holland, wrestling against the tyranny of Spain; it was bleak, sterile Sweden, that gained victories for the Reformation.
(HF 147.2)
For nearly thirty years Calvin labored at Geneva for the advancement of the Reformation throughout Europe. His course was not faultless, nor were his doctrines free from error. But he was instrumental in promulgating truths of special importance, in maintaining Protestantism against the fast-returning tide of popery, and in promoting in the reformed churches simplicity and purity of life.
(HF 147.3)
From Geneva, publications and teachers went out to spread the reformed doctrines. To this point the persecuted of all lands looked for instruction and encouragement. The city of Calvin became a refuge for the hunted Reformers of all Western Europe. They were welcomed and tenderly cared for; and finding a home here, they blessed the city of their adoption by their skill, their learning, and their piety. John Knox, the brave Scottish Reformer, not a few of the English Puritans, Protestants of Holland and of Spain, and the Huguenots of France, carried from Geneva the torch of truth to lighten the darkness of their native lands.
(HF 148.1)