John Calvin
by J. C. Philpot
Two men, giants in intellect and blessed saints of the
Most High, but widely differing in the work which they had to perform, and
the manner in which they executed it, were raised up in the 16th century by
the God of all grace to commence and carry on the blessed Reformation, that
goodly tree under the shadow of which we are now sitting. These two eminent
saints and servants of God, in whom gifts and grace, cultivated intellect
and spiritual light, human learning and divine teaching, apostolic labors
and apostolic suffering, were combined in a way of which we have now lost
even the very idea, were Luther and CALVIN. The two men widely
differed in their mental constitution, temper, habits, and even in some of
their religious views. Luther was a thorough German; and had, in spite of
occasional coarseness of language and rudeness of manner incidental to the
period, all that native nobility of mind, that openness, frankness, bravery,
and boldness, sincerity and truthfulness, which, from the remotest ages,
have characterized the German race.
Calvin was a Frenchman; and though widely differing in
mental constitution from that light-hearted nation, yet, as a writer, had
all that subtlety of intellect and clearness of thought, that buoyancy of
style, that logical accuracy, and that high finish which distinguish the
French authors above those of all other nations.† Both were men of powerful
intellect, deep learning, and intense study, thorough masters of the
scriptures, which they read day and night, unwearied preachers in public and
indefatigable instructors in private, faithful counselors of all that needed
advice, fervent lovers of truth and holiness, and no less fervent haters of
error and evil; godly in life, blessed in death, and now happy in eternity.
But with all these points of resemblance, the two men
widely differed. Luther was more the Elijah, Calvin the Paul of the
Reformation. Luther thundered and lightened against the Pope and his shaven
crew; burnt his bulls; mocked and derided his legates and prelates; and by a
very storm of tracts,† in thoughts that breathe and words that burn,‡
lighted a fire in Germany which, like that on Mount Carmel, consumed the
wood, and stones, and dust, and licked up the water in the trench. Calvin
was not such a man of action, or of such fiery energy; he had not by nature
the same intrepidity of mind, or even by grace the same martyr spirit; nor
did he stand so forward in the very van and front of the battle as the
stout-hearted German. Luther at the Diet of Worms, confronting the Emperor
and all the assembled princes of Germany, and Calvin publishing his works
under false names,‡‡ and hiding himself in various places in Paris and other
parts, present a striking contrast. His work, though in the issue perhaps
more important than that of Luther's, was not to stand before assembled
princes, or hurl bold and loud defiance against popes, but was carried on in
the quiet depths of his own mind, and the close recesses of his study.
There, in silence and solitude, were molded and elaborated those works which
have exercised so vast and salutary an influence on the church of God, and
the leading truths of which have penetrated into so many living consciences.
Though a man of energy and action at a later period, when
grace gave him a firmness and boldness which he did not naturally possess,
enabling him to rule Geneva with a rod of iron, and to exercise almost as
much civil as spiritual authority in that little republic, his chief work
was rather to take the burning fragments of truth, mingled sometimes with
scum and slag, that Luther hurled forth, and separating from them the dross
and tin, to weld the whole mass into a compact, homogeneous form. He could
not preach with the power nor write with the vigor of Luther; nor had he,
with all his piercing intellect, that grasp of mind and that authority of
thought and language whereby the German Reformer could almost at will raise
or quell a storm.
As a theologian, as an expounder of scripture, as a
clear, deep, and patient thinker, as a systematic writer on the grand
doctrines of truth, as an able administrator, and as a godly, self-denying,
mortified saint and servant of God, Calvin excelled Luther. But in an
experience of the terrors of the law and manifested blessings of the gospel,
in a deep acquaintance with temptation and conflict internal and external,
in life and power so far as he saw and felt the things of God, and in
unvaried unflinching boldness of speech and conduct, Luther as far outshone
him. Calvin was naturally shy, timid, and retiring; zealous, no doubt, for
the glory of God, but not a little jealous too of his own; stern and
unforgiving when offended; in principle and practice a rigid disciplinarian,
and too often carrying the severity of the law into the precepts of the
gospel. You would highly esteem him as a saint, and deeply venerate him as a
servant of God; but you would find it difficult to love him as a man or make
him a bosom friend. His godly, self-denying life and walk and holy example
would often reprove you, and might stir you up to desire for yourself a
measure of the same grace; but if you were much tempted and tried, plagued
by sin, assailed by Satan, and sometimes almost at your wits' end, you would
rather open your heart to Martin Luther than to John Calvin. He lived for
the most part out of the storm and whirlwind of human passions; and
therefore had little sympathy with those that have to do business in deep
waters.
A stern censor of any approach to gaiety of dress,
manner, or life, even in men who were manifestly unregenerate, he sternly
carried out a system of discipline that might suit the church, but which
could not be enforced on the world. He was, therefore, never beloved even in
that city where he ruled as chief and where his word was law. Living in his
study in continual meditation, he could not throw himself, like Luther, into
the popular heart as a man of the people; nor could he, like him, strike
chords which have never ceased to sound in Protestant Germany to this day.
Every true-hearted German is proud of Luther. His very
name even now calls up visions of liberty in their enthralled bosoms; his
hymns are sung in their churches; his pointed, pithy sayings have become
national proverbs; the educated classes admire him as the undaunted champion
of civil and religious freedom, and the great classic who first molded into
form and almost launched into birth their noble language; and the poor honor
him as one of their own class, and as one before whom popes, emperors, and
kings had to doff their caps. When Germany ceases to admire and venerate
Luther, she will be Russianised in stem and revolutionized in root. None
despise him there but a tyrannical aristocracy, a papistic priesthood, an
infidel press, and a revolutionary mob.
Does Calvin lie so deeply imbedded in a nation's heart?
Though, to a great extent, he did for the French language what Luther did
for the German, making a crude and antiquated dialect a vehicle of the most
accurate and refined thought, yet is he despised as a fanatic by that nation
of which he is so bright an ornament, and by which he was driven into exile.
Even in Geneva, the seat of his labors, where he once held almost the whole
sway of government, he is but little remembered and less venerated.
Socinianism fills those pulpits which once resounded with the accents of
Calvin's voice, and those few ministers who hold and preach his sentiments
are bitterly persecuted in the very city where he was so honored in life and
lamented in death.
And yet with all this, as a Reformer in the church of
God, and as an expositor of divine truth, Calvin has had an enduring
influence in which Luther has comparatively failed. Not that Calvin
discovered any new truth, or was the first writer who laid down the doctrine
of election with accuracy and clearness. Augustine in the fifth, and
Bradwardine and Wycliffe in the 14th century, had set forth the doctrines of
grace with almost equal profundity of thought and clearness of style; but
the age in which they lived was not prepared to receive the truth from their
lips or pen. The doctrine of divine sovereignty in their mouth was rather
the private experience of a solitary believer, the inward food of an
isolated individual, than the bread of life broken up for famishing
multitudes. But the Reformation roused men out of the deep sleep of
centuries; and the Spirit of God having quickened the souls of many into a
hungering and thirsting after righteousness, when the truth of God was
brought before them by Calvin's hand, it was gladly and eagerly received by
those who felt themselves starving amid the husks for swine.
By the singular clearness of his style, his deep
scriptural knowledge, the readiness and aptness of his quotations, and the
full mastery which he had of his subject, Calvin became a teacher of
teachers, and a preacher to preachers. Under his pen the scriptures uttered
a definite creed; sounded by his lips, the gospel trumpet gave forth a
certain sound; a harmony and consistency were seen to pervade the whole of
divine revelation; and his hand, it was at once felt, had seized the clue,
the only clue which led the convinced sinner safely through those mazes
where so many before had wandered in confusion and sorrow. Grace having
shone into his soul was reflected, as in a mirror, by his clear
understanding, and thence, as he directed it upon the pages of inspired
truth, the scripture was seen to be illuminated as with a new and immediate
light from heaven. His writings have, therefore, influenced directly or
indirectly every preacher and every writer who has been of any service to
the church of God from that time to this.
His system is so thoroughly scriptural, so accurately
drawn out, and so firmly and compactly welded together, that it not only
commends itself to the conscience of all who are taught of God, but presents
an impenetrable front to all adversaries. His views, too, of church
government, though we cannot look upon them with an approving eye, have
exercised scarcely less influence than his doctrines, and have even molded
the character of nations. The Scotch and Dutch people, at the best periods
of their history, are wonderful instances of the permanent effect produced
upon a nation by the establishment not only of Calvin's doctrines, but by
the adoption of his system of church government. John Knox, Rutherford, and
all the old Covenanters that did and suffered so much for the glory of God
in Scotland; all those martyrs who shed their blood like water sooner than
Arminianism in doctrine and Episcopacy in government should be forced upon
them at the point of the sword, were but disciples of Calvin; and the Kirk
which they loved almost to idolatry was but a copy of the church established
by him at Geneva. No, we Nonconformists and Dissenters, who have rightly
abandoned Calvin's views of church government for a purer and more
scriptural system, yet we too, under God, owe mainly to him the leading
principles of our faith and practice; for we are the spiritual descendants
of that holy band of Puritan Refugees who, returning from Switzerland after
the persecution of Queen Mary, introduced into this country those pure
principles of religious worship, learned from Calvin and his disciples,
which have placed us in irreconcilable opposition to the mimicry and mummery
of a worldly establishment.
The personal history of Calvin is so little known to any
but those who have made it an object of study, that perhaps a short sketch
of so distinguished a man may not be unacceptable to our readers as well as
form a suitable introduction to the work at the head of the present article.
John Calvin was born at Noyon, a small town in Picardy, a
province in the north of France, on July 10th, 1509. His father was Gerard
Calvin, a notary in the ecclesiastical court of Noyon, and secretary to the
bishop; an office to which he, the son of a poor cooper, had mainly raised
himself by his great abilities and judgment, and in the execution of which
he commanded the respect and esteem of the chief noble families of the
province. Being himself a man of distinguished mental ability, and living in
habits of familiar communion with the great church dignitaries and chief men
of the province, he was desirous to give his children, and especially his
son John, a similar education with those of the highest rank. The
opportunity presented itself through an illustrious family, at that time
resident in the province, of the name of Mommor, with the children of which
noble house the young Calvin, who from a child manifested great talent, was
domesticated and educated.
His father, like Luther, and perhaps most parents in
those days, was singularly rigid and severe; and thus we see in the plastic
days of childhood two opposite influences acting upon his infant mind which
molded between them his future disposition—great refinement of mental
culture and manner, and rigid severity of conduct. The former he owed to the
circumstances of his early education; the latter, if not hereditary, to the
influence of his father. Timid and bashful in disposition, silent and grave
in manner, taking no pleasure in the sports of childhood, but devoted to
study, and flying sometimes into the depths of the adjoining forest there to
read and meditate, on he grew, until at twelve years of age he received what
is called the clerical tonsure, that is, had his hair solemnly cut off from
the crown of his head by the Bishop, as the first step before receiving
orders in the Romish Church. The object of this step, one not unusual at
that period, was not so much to devote him to the altar as to enable him to
hold a chaplaincy, to which, according to the corrupt practice of that age,
even a child might be presented, if he received the tonsure.
For two years had the boy chaplain enjoyed his clerical
dignity and the emoluments connected with it, when a terrible pestilence
broke out at Noyon. The children of the noble family of Mommor, partly to
flee the pestilence, and partly to pursue their studies, were about to
proceed to Paris, then as now the great center of learning and education.
Terrified lest his son John should die of the plague, desirous that he
should not be separated from his noble fellow students, and anxious to
complete an education for which such singular aptitude was exhibited, Gerard
Calvin petitioned the Chapter that the young chaplain might have a
dispensation to accompany them to Paris, retaining, with an eye to what is
called the main chance, the emoluments of his benefice. This being granted
up to a named period, the youthful Calvin left his native town for the great
metropolis, then or some time after the focus of a terrible persecution
against the opponents of the Mass and the adherents to the reformed
doctrines.
It does not appear that at this period the light of
divine truth had either penetrated into his conscience, or had even come
before his mind. What religion he had was wholly in accordance with the then
prevailing Romish views, which, as we learn from himself, he held with a
most bigoted and stubborn obstinacy. On reaching Paris, he became
domesticated in the house of an uncle, Richard Calvin, and who seems to have
been somewhat imbued with those new doctrines which were then agitating
France, and which a century afterwards threw it into all the convulsions of
civil war. The timid and shy student lad was now growing up into a youth of
middle stature, whose complexion, naturally dark, but pale with thought and
study, was relieved by a set of animated features, and an eye singularly
clear and bright, which even to his dying day revealed the fire of genius
that burnt within. His dress singularly neat and modest; his grave and
silent deportment; his entire separation from all society but that of a few
choice friends; his disgust, which he took no pains to conceal, at the
sports and idle frolics of his fellow students; his severe reproofs of their
outbreaks into sin and wickedness; and his own not only perfectly moral, but
even austere and rigid life, gave promise of what he would be when grace
visited his soul and turned the current into the channel of vital godliness.
But at this period study and more especially that of the
Latin language, at that time the great vehicle of thought, and in which he
became so accomplished a writer, was his main object. Like a ship launched
upon the waters, or a horse rushing into the battle, this pale youth threw
himself into study, mastering with such ease and so retaining in the grasp
of his powerful memory all to which he applied his mind, that he seemed to
take by assault the citadel of learning which his fellow students were but
slowly and often unsuccessfully besieging. Rising to the top of every class,
he had to be removed from them all that he might receive that instruction in
private in which no class could follow him.
Looking at the features of his mind as afterwards more
fully developed by long and severe culture, he seems to have possessed from
the very first certain mental qualities in a degree that few men have ever
been favored with. Acute penetration into the heart of every subject, clear
comprehension in the mass and in detail, power and precision in reasoning,
and that logical accuracy of thought whereby every link of a long chain of
argument is struck and maintained in its exact place, were the chief
characteristics of his mind; and as these were aided by a most capacious and
retentive memory, and a clear, simple style of language and expression, he
was enabled to employ them with the greatest facility and to their utmost
extent.
The college at which he was first placed not being able
to advance him beyond a certain point, he removed to another in the same
metropolis where he made still greater progress in those studies to which he
directed his attention. Though he had received the tonsure, he had not been
admitted into orders, and was therefore in a strict sense not an
ecclesiastic. The extraordinary abilities which he had already displayed
induced, therefore, his father to make him renounce the study of theology
for that of the law. In compliance with his father's wishes, the youthful
student left Paris for the University of Orleans, in order to study
jurisprudence under a celebrated professor there, who was reputed the
acutest lawyer in France.
His friend Beza gives us a few particulars of Calvin's
life during his residence at Orleans, which he had probably heard from his
own lips, and tells us that he was accustomed to spend half the night in
study and in the morning lie in bed to reflect upon what he had read. But he
paid the usual penalty for such intense study, for here he laid the
foundation of those bodily disorders, and especially those cruel headaches
which embittered his future life. Though we have no clear and distinct
account of his call by grace, yet it would appear that it was during his
abode at Orleans that divine light and life entered his conscience, or if
the fear of God was not there first implanted, yet that there it was
sensibly deepened. He tells us himself, in his Preface to the Psalms, that
his call was sudden, and that previously he had been an obstinate and
devoted bigot to every papal superstition.
A near relative, Olivetan, who afterwards translated the
scriptures into French, was the person, according to Beza, from whom he
derived his first bias toward the reformed doctrines; and it was by his
advice and example that he was particularly led to read and study the
scriptures. He thus came at once to the fountain head of all spiritual
wisdom and knowledge, and without any other guide or teacher but the Holy
Spirit, was led by him into that vital experience of the truth which he so
richly possessed. But though made alive unto God, he did not at once devote
himself to the service of the sanctuary.
It was the custom of that period to move from University
to University, to obtain the advantage of the most celebrated teachers.
Calvin therefore left Orleans to complete his legal studies at the
University of Bourges, the most renowned school in France for that branch of
science; and here he began to lay the foundations of a knowledge in the
Greek language, to which he had as yet not paid much previous attention. But
the work of God was still going on in his soul. The fire was shut up in his
bones; and as it burnt within he could not stay or hold his peace.
It was at Bourges and in the neighboring villages that he
first began to open his mouth in the name of the Lord, and to preach that
truth which had been commended to his conscience and made precious to his
own soul. Some peculiar and divine power must have rested upon him from his
very commencement to declare God's truth, for before a year had elapsed all
in the neighborhood who were desirous of knowing the pure doctrines of the
Gospel came to him for instruction; and in spite of his shy and retiring
habits and studious pursuits which made such interruptions naturally
distasteful, he could not refuse to minister to their instruction and
consolation.
Calvin was now about twenty-three years of age, and still
studying the law at Bourges, when an event took place which exercised a
great influence upon his future life. This was the sudden death of his
father, which rendered him master of his own actions, and enabled him to
abandon the law for those pursuits and studies which were more congenial to
those desires after God and godliness which had been communicated to his
soul. He therefore left Bourges, and once more repaired to Paris, where,
relinquishing all other studies, he devoted his whole mind to those alone
which he considered necessary to qualify him for becoming a "workman who
needs not to be ashamed, rightly dividing the word of truth."
Paris was at this time in a remarkable state. Persecution
had already commenced against the professors of the reformed doctrines, but
not in that fearful form which it assumed about two years afterwards, when,
after a solemn procession through the streets of Paris, in which the king
walked barefooted, and with a candle in his hand, after the host, borne
under a canopy, six people, who were convicted of Lutheranism, were publicly
burnt at a slow fire. There was, however, a sufficient amount of persecution
going on to compel the evangelical congregations to assemble in the greatest
secrecy. Calvin, we have already remarked, was naturally not only of a very
shy and retiring, but timid disposition. Yet here he began to manifest the
power of grace in giving him that boldness for truth in the midst of danger
which formed afterwards so prominent a part in his character. He was
constantly employed in preaching to the congregations which met in secret,
and always concluded with those suitable words, "If God be for us, who can
be against us?"
A singular circumstance, however, was the cause of his
being obliged somewhat abruptly to abandon the scene of his labors. A
theological college, well known all over Europe by the name of the Sorbonne,
and universally considered the great pillar of Catholic orthodoxy, had newly
elected and placed at its head a rector by the name of Nicholas Cop. The new
rector had secretly imbibed the tenets of the Reformation, and having become
acquainted with Calvin, accepted his offer to compose a sermon which was to
be delivered before the assembled College on the festival of All-Saints. To
the consternation, not less than the indignation of the assembled doctors,
this sermon, instead of, as was usually the case, furiously upholding the
doctrines of Popery, and furiously attacking the tenets of the Reformation,
boldly set forth justification by faith alone as the way of salvation, and
unflinchingly declared that the Gospel was the sole standard of divine
truth.
Such an attack as this upon their darling creed of
salvation by works, and no less idolized doctrine of the authority of the
Pope, and as they considered such an insult to the world-renowned
theologians of the first college in Europe, could not be overlooked. Cop,
who probably had but partially read the sermon before he preached it, was
denounced by the Sorbonne doctors to the Parliament of Paris, who taking the
matter warmly up, sent their officers to apprehend him. He, however, having
received through a friend timely notice, had already escaped to Basle, in
Switzerland, his native town, where neither doctors nor officers could touch
a hair of his head; but Calvin's share in the transaction having got wind,
the police were sent to seize him.
The Lord, however, would not give him over a prey to
their teeth. It is said that he was so near being apprehended that he only
escaped by letting himself down from his window by the sheets of his bed;
and seeking the house of a vine-dresser whom he knew, probably one of his
little congregation, put on his rough smock frock, with a white wallet on
his back, and a hoe upon his shoulders, and took the road on foot to Noyon.
He was now compelled to lead a wandering life, through which we cannot now
follow him, preaching as opportunity offered, but chiefly employed in
writing his great work, the "Institutes of the Christian Religion."
Persecution was now growing hotter and hotter every day; and most of them
who had made themselves conspicuous by their contending for the faith once
delivered to the saints, felt themselves compelled to leave France for some
safe and tranquil asylum.
Among these was Calvin, who fled to Basle, in
Switzerland, which offered a secure refuge to all exiles for conscience
sake, being a free city on the banks of the Rhine, over which neither pope
nor prince had any power. Here he became acquainted with many of the leading
German reformers, especially Bucer, afterwards so well known in England, and
especially at Oxford, where he was made divinity professor. And here it was
that he was enabled to put the last touches to, and to publish A.D. 1535,
the first edition of his greet work, "The Institutes of the Christian
Religion." At this time he was only twenty-six years of age; and yet his
views of divine truth, especially of those doctrines which from him have
been called Calvinistic, were fully matured. When we consider the wandering
life which he had led from the time that grace first visited his soul, and
the persecutions which he had to endure, both of which must have sadly
interrupted his meditations and studies, we stand amazed at the clearness
and depth of that mind which could give us, under such circumstances, a work
so replete with every excellence.
His "Institutes" is a body of Christian divinity in which
all the great doctrines of our most holy faith are laid down with the
greatest clearness and accuracy, so that there is scarcely a single point in
the whole truth of God which does not find its right place there. The
influence exerted by this work, which at once became a text book for private
study and public lectures, both in this and every country where the gospel
found any footing, is incalculable. Never before had the truth been
presented with such clearness of statement, such abundance of scriptural
proof, and such felicity of language. It at once, therefore, established
itself as a bulwark against error, and a guide into the truth as it is in
Jesus.
But the time was drawing near when Calvin was to be no
longer a wanderer and fugitive, but have a settled house and home, and be
put into possession of a religious center, from which his influence, not
only as a writer, but as introducing and carrying out a new and original
platform of church government, might be extended to the remotest parts. Men
speak of accidents; but accidents with God there can be none. It was then by
an accident, as men call it, that Geneva was made Calvin's resting place.
His elder brother Charles dying unmarried, the paternal inheritance devolved
on Calvin. He proceeded, therefore, to Noyon, to sell the estate and put his
affairs in order; for well he knew that French soil was never more to be a
resting place for him. His intention, upon leaving Noyon, was to proceed to
Basle or Strasburgh, meaning in one of those cities permanently to pitch his
tent. The army, however, of Charles V. having at that time penetrated into
France, the usual way was closed, and he was forced to take a circuitous
route through Geneva. This simple circumstance determined the current of his
whole future life, and this accidental visit to Geneva was, in the hands of
God, made the means of fixing him there, with the exception of a short
interval, for the rest of his life.
At the south-west corner of one of the largest and most
beautiful lakes of Switzerland, within sight of the giant of the Alps, Mont
Blanc, which rears its hoary crest more than 15,000 feet into the sky, and
cut in twain by "The blue rushing of the arrowy Rhone," lies the free and
independent city of Geneva. No place could have been better fitted
both by local situation, and political as well as religious circumstances,
to become a spiritual metropolis at the time of the Reformation, than this
Queen of the Leman lake. Three great countries, France, Germany, and Italy,
meet at that narrow angle where the Rhone gushes out of its bosom; and in
its rear rises, in scene after scene of majestic grandeur and beauty, that
land of mountain and lake, of glacier and valley, that native home of
bravery and freedom, Switzerland. The circumstances of Geneva, both
political and religious, at the period where we paused in our late Review of
the life of Calvin, were no less favorable to its becoming a great center of
the Reformed doctrines than its natural site.
Having newly shaken off her Popish bishop, and driven
away by force of arms the Duke of Savoy, and thus having got rid of both her
ecclesiastical and civil oppressors, she had a short time before Calvin's
arrival constituted herself a republic, and thus opened a path for political
liberty; and mainly through the preaching of Farel, one of the most
remarkable characters that was ever raised up by the power of God to preach
the gospel, had about the same period (August, 1535) formally abolished
Popery, and established Protestantism in its stead as the religion of the
State.
Four ministers and two deacons were appointed by the
Council with fixed salaries, payable out of the ecclesiastical revenues, and
strict regulations were made to enforce the observance of the Sabbath and
the conducting of public worship. Terrible scenes of violence, however, had
accompanied the first planting of the gospel at Geneva; and the city was
still rocking with the storm. Just then at this very crisis, when a man of
powerful mind, sound judgment, inflexible purpose, and thoroughly possessed
of vital godliness, was needed to grasp the helm, the providence of God sent
Calvin to the city. His intention was to stop only a single night at the
house of Viret, one of the lately chosen Protestant ministers. But Farel was
at this juncture in the city, and hearing of the arrival of Calvin, with
whose character he was well acquainted, and moved, doubtless, by a divine
impulse, immediately sought him out, and obtaining an interview, earnestly
begged him to abide at Geneva, and lend his aid the cause of God by
accepting the office of the ministry there. Calvin at first steadily
declined acceding to his request, on the ground that he did not wish to
accept any public office, having determined to devote his life to private
study and seclusion from all public employ. Farel, however, changing his
tone from entreaty to command, and assuming almost apostolic authority, bade
him stay, denouncing him with God's displeasure, and almost with the curse
of Meroz if he did not come "to the help of the Lord, to the help of the
Lord against the mighty." (Judges 5:23.)
Overcome by Farel's voice and manner, which had struck
awe into thousands, and recognizing in them a power which reached his inmost
soul, Calvin (to use his own words) felt "as if God had laid his hand upon
him out of heaven," abandoned his projected journey, and consented to remain
at Geneva, but would not bind himself to accept any definite charge or
public office. How strikingly do we see in all this the marvelous providence
of God, and with what divine sovereignty yet with what consummate wisdom he
selects as well as fashions his own instruments to execute his own work.
Calvin was not the man to rush into a Popish town, and
like a soldier storming the breach, to carry the gospel in one hand and his
life in the other. This was Farel's work—the fearless, undaunted Farel, who,
with half of Calvin's learning, had double of Calvin's courage, and thrice
Calvin's energy. But when the ground was once fairly cleared, and the
Reformation firmly established, then the vigorous intellect of Calvin, his
great knowledge of divine truth, his enduring fortitude, his self-denying
godly life, his far-seeing administrative talent, his calm, inflexible
firmness of purpose, his amazing industry, and his great ability as a writer
and as a preacher, were all admirably adapted to carry on what Farel had
begun. Farel could throw down, but could not so well build; Calvin could
build, but not so thoroughly pull down. But as coadjutors, they were
admirably mated. Farel was a man of action, Calvin a man of thought; Farel
was a preacher of fiery eloquence, Calvin a writer of deep, but calm
scriptural knowledge. Both were men of God, ardent lovers of truth, bosom
friends and affectionate brethren for life, and so matched as fellow
laborers that Farel's impetuosity urged on Calvin's slowness, and Calvin's
judgment restrained Farel's rashness.
When we consider Calvin's circumstances at this time, we
can see there were solid reasons why he should be induced to pitch his tent
at Geneva. Severed from all ties of family and country, driven out of France
by the strong arm of persecution, he could not but be desirous to obtain a
haven from the storms of outward violence, as well as a safe and abiding
home, and a position where he could be of some service to the church of
Christ. Thus, as most of God's saints and servants have experienced, the
dealings of his providence and the dealings of his grace, both combined to
work out his eternal purposes, and to fix Calvin's abode in that city which
has become lastingly identified with his memory and name.
He was soon chosen teacher of theology, an important post
in those days—when the truth was so little known—and one peculiarly adapted
to his spiritual gifts and intellectual abilities; but from diffidence, or
not seeing clearly the will of God, declined the office of minister. Such
gifts as his, however, could not long be hid in a corner; and in the
following year (February, 1537,) he was induced to take upon himself the
burden of the Lord. His first sermon made such a deep and striking
impression on the hearers that multitudes followed him home to testify to
the power of the word, and he was obliged to promise that he would preach
again next day, so that others who were not then present might be similarly
favored.
Being thus firmly established at Geneva, and having
obtained a place by his grace and gifts in the esteem and affections of the
people, Calvin did not long delay to associate himself closely with Farel in
pushing on those wide and deep plans of reformation and religious discipline
which they believed were needful for the full establishment of the gospel in
that city.
No man admires or reveres the Reformers more than we do,
but if we dare to advance an opinion adverse to their movements, we have
long thought that they greatly erred in endeavoring to bind a gospel yoke
on a carnal people, and turn the precepts of the New Testament into a
legal code. Gospel precepts, like gospel promises, belong to believers only;
and New Testament discipline is for the government of New Testament churches
alone. But their view was to make the reformed religion a national thing; to
incorporate the gospel with the government, and to visit sins against the
New Testament as crimes against the State. By so doing, they virtually
denied their own principles: for if there be an elect people, the gospel
alone belongs to them; and you cannot consistently punish carnal men for the
infraction of gospel precepts when they have no interest in gospel promises.
We are touching here, we are well aware, on a most
difficult question—how far the State should recognize the religion of the
New Testament without constituting it into an establishment; and while it
punishes crime, how far it should repress immorality and sin. Allow the
State to interfere at will in matters of conscience and religion, and you
convert it into an engine of persecution. Deny it all interference in
religion, and it cannot suppress loud-mouthed blasphemy, the grossest
profanation of the Lord's Day, the burning of the Bible in open day, and
infidel lectures in the public streets.
Calvin, however, felt little difficulty in this matter.
His views were to establish the gospel in high places, and give it supreme
sway over the minds and actions of all men who came within its reach. In
conjunction, therefore, with Farel, he drew up a short confession of faith
in twenty-one articles, which also comprised some regulations respecting
church government. Among the latter was the right of excommunication, which
became subsequently a formidable weapon in Calvin's hand for the punishment
of evil doers. To this confession of faith Farel appended the Ten
Commandments, and in this amended form it was laid before the council of Two
Hundred, who ordered it to be printed, read in St. Peter's Church every
Sunday, and the people sworn to the observance of it.
But Popery had too long prevailed at Geneva, and had
taken too deep and wide a root to be speedily eradicated. Almost a French
city, it had a great deal of French manners, and French morality, and was
not only a very gay, lighthearted, and careless seat of pleasure, but
terribly dissolute and licentious. Rome cares little now, and cared still
less then for the morals of her devotees as long as they worship at her
altars. A drunken Irishman is a good Catholic if he do but attend mass, take
off his hat to the priest, say an Ave to the Virgin Mary, and hate all
heretics. Dancing and music, the gambling table, and the masquerade,
feasting and reveling every Sunday and holiday, Rome tolerated, if not
encouraged, at Geneva, as long as mass was duly said at the altar and the
convent vesper bell nightly tinkled over the blue lake. But there were
darker crimes behind the midnight mask and holiday revel. Drunkenness,
blasphemy, adultery, licensed prostitution, and the most dissolute
profligacy, in which the popish clergy were not the least backward, made the
city a very sink of iniquity. It was not likely then that these lovers of
pleasure, many of whom still continued in Geneva, sunk as they were up to
the neck in profligacy, would readily submit to the yoke which Calvin and
Farel were binding on their necks.
For these men of God did not lop off merely a few twigs
of the Upas tree of sin. They hacked and hewed down sin root and branch, and
smote the Amalekites hip and thigh. Not only the grosser crimes just
mentioned were severely punished, but cards, dancing, plays, masquerades,
were all absolutely prohibited; all holidays except Sunday were abolished,
and that observed with all the strictness of our Puritan ancestors. All the
church bells were dismantled and silenced; the citizens were strictly
enjoined to attend divine service, and be at home by 9 o'clock in the
evening. Fancy an English town, a gay and fashionable watering place, such
as Brighton, Cheltenham, or Leamington, subjected to these regulations, and
then fancy whether our good Protestants would relish their cards, their
balls, their late supper parties, their plays and concerts, their races and
raffles, their coursing and hunting, all swept away at a stroke, they made
to hear sermons upon election and predestination several times a week, and
all to be in doors before the clock struck nine.
Geneva, the gay, the dissipated Geneva, where mirth and
pleasure had long run riot, began to rebel against this bit in her jaws, and
a formidable party was secretly organized to resist these stringent
measures. To show how Satan can invest the worst deeds with the holiest
names, these lovers of all ungodliness named themselves, "Brothers in
Christ." "Libertines" was the name given them with far greater justice by
the lovers of the gospel at Geneva. Our limits will not allow us, nor indeed
is it necessary to detail their intrigues and the artful manner in which
they disguised their real intentions. Suffice it to say, that they soon
obtained political power in the executive Council, and thus brought the
Genevese government under their influence. They dare not openly avow that
their end was to restore the ancient reign of riot, but intending,
doubtless, to undermine or eject Calvin and Farel by surer methods, they
took their stand on some points in which the reformed church at Berne
differed from that at Geneva, and required the ministers to conform to them.
The two main points were using unleavened bread in the communion, and
celebrating four festivals in the year.
As Calvin and Farel would not, however, consent to
conform to these points, and even refused to administer the Lord's Supper at
Easter at all on account of the debauchery and insubordination of the
people, the Council forbade them to mount the pulpit. Regardless of this
prohibition, and determined to obey God rather than man, they both preached
twice at their respective churches, but did not celebrate the communion.
Their open disobedience to the express orders of the government brought
matters at once to a crisis. On the following morning the Council met, and
passed sentence of banishment on both Farel and Calvin, issuing at the same
time an order that they must quit the city in three days. The Council of Two
Hundred and the General Assembly, the two fountains of all power at Geneva,
convened especially for the purpose, confirmed the sentence of the Executive
Council; and their decision being without appeal, submission was their only
alternative. The exiles simply exclaiming, "It is better to serve God than
man," and turning their backs on the city which had thus cast them out, went
first to Berne, and thence proceeded to Basle, where they were received with
the greatest cordiality. But neither tarried there long, and were soon
separated, Farel repairing to Neufchatel, and Calvin to Strasburg, a free
and imperial city on the Rhine, where the Reformation was firmly
established, where he was received with open arms, appointed professor of
theology, and a pulpit and congregation assigned him.
Meanwhile at Geneva, matters were in a strange ferment.
The party which had banished Calvin and Farel had gained a triumph and were
determined to make the most of it. The dancers, the gamblers, and the
drunkards were pleased enough, and soon restored the ancient days when sin
ran down the streets as water. But the exiled ministers had a strong party
that knew and loved the truth, which daily gathered power and influence. The
ministers who had succeeded Farel and Calvin were unable to maintain their
ground, and left the city. Riot everywhere prevailed; strong attempts were
made to re-introduce Popery; and confusion and disorder shook the city to
the center. The hand of God now began to lift itself up against his
adversaries. Jean Philippe, the Captain General and head of the Libertine
Party, was publicly executed for killing a man in a riot.
One of the magistrates who assisted to banish Calvin, and
told him "the city gates were wide enough for him," broke his own neck in
trying to escape from the officers of justice out of a window. Two others
were obliged to fly on charges of treason; and thus the Council became
purged of Calvin's enemies. Swayed as it were from above, and feeling that
he alone could restore order to their troubled and disturbed city, the
hearts of the Council and a great majority of the citizens longed for
Calvin's return. On the 24th of April, 1538, the sentence of banishment had
been passed; on the 20th of October, 1540, the Council passed a resolution
that he should be invited to come back. Calvin's heart was really at Geneva;
but mindful of the troubles he had suffered there, and perhaps not being
willing too soon to be won, he respectfully declined their invitation. In
addition to this, as he was highly honored at Strasburg, where the Lord was
remarkably blessing his labors, had lately taken to himself a wife and was
deeply immersed in his beloved studies, he had every inducement there to
remain. Undeterred by his refusal, again the Council pressed him most
earnestly to return; again Calvin pleaded his engagements at Strasburg.
Unable to prevail with him, the Council sent a circular
letter to the governments of Berne, Basle, and Zurich to request their
influence in procuring his return:† Farel, Bucer, and other influential
ministers urged his compliance. None but he, it was felt, could raise the
sinking church at Geneva, or rule the people in that riotous city. Overcome
at length by these powerful persuasions, seeing, doubtless, the hand of God
in them, and that Geneva was his divinely appointed post, Calvin yielded the
point and consented to return. His return, under these circumstances, was a
triumph of truth over error, and of godliness over ungodliness; and thus his
very exile gave him a power and an authority subsequently at Geneva which he
could not have had without it. How evident in all this is the wonder-working
hand of God. A mounted herald was despatched to escort him from Strasburg,
and a carriage and three horses sent to bring his wife and furniture.
On the 13th of September, 1541, he again entered the
gates of Geneva. The Council received him with every mark of affection and
respect, besought him ever to remain with them, provided him with a house
and garden attached, settled on him a fixed salary, and, what we may believe
Calvin valued more than all, prepared him a pulpit in St. Peter's Church, so
arranged that the whole congregation might hear him with ease. From this
period until the day of his decease, (May 27th, 1564,) a space of nearly 23
years, did this zealous and godly servant of the Lord labor at Geneva. The
following was the ordinary routine of his labors. Besides the Lord's day, he
preached every day during each alternate week; thrice a week he gave
lectures in divinity; presided in the consistory or meeting of the ministers
every Thursday; and lectured at St. Peter's Church every Friday evening. On
the alternate week he chiefly devoted himself to his studies, commencing at
five or six in the morning, and continuing at work nearly all day.
We cannot pursue his history during an eventful period of
twenty-three years. We hasten, therefore, to his end; those latter days of
his life on earth, on which a peculiar halo of grace and glory was shed. For
several years his bodily sufferings and afflictions had been great; but
about 1561, a complication of disorders fell on his earthly tabernacle. A
continual colic, incessant vomitings, loss of appetite, sleeplessness, and
tormenting headaches, pressed him sore. But worse ills, asthma, gout, and
stone, followed in their rear. Still he continued his severe labors, writing
commentaries on the Scripture, and preaching, though obliged to be carried
to the church in a chair. On the 6th of February, 1564, he preached his last
sermon, though he still occasionally addressed a few words to the
congregation. But, amid all his severe sufferings, no complaint escaped his
lips, except that sometimes he would look up, and say, "Lord, how long?"
He was now very sensible that his earthly pilgrimage was
drawing to a close. Still he pursued his literary labors; and when Beza
begged of him to give up dictating, or at all events writing, his only
answer was, "What? Would you have the Lord find mee idle?" On the 10th of
March he was publicly prayed for in the churches by order of the government,
and on the 18th, the Council sent him a present of twenty-five crowns,
which, however, he refused to accept, assigning as his reason that he was no
longer able to work, and therefore had no right to be paid. On the 2nd of
April he was carried to church, stayed the sermon, and received the Lord's
Supper from the hand of Beza. He joined in the hymn with a tremulous voice,
and though his countenance bore on it the evident stamp of death, yet was it
lighted up with the radiant beams of joy and peace. On the 25th of April he
made his will, and on the 26th the Council assembled at his house. We could
wish that our limits admitted the insertion of even a portion of his grave
and wise address to the executive government of Geneva, received by them as
it was with the greatest respect and affection as well as many tears. On the
28th all the Genevese ministers met at his house. These he addressed most
earnestly and affectionately, exhorting them to persevere in the good work
to which the Lord had called them, to avoid all dispute and strife, and walk
in mutual love and affection. He bade them firmly maintain his doctrine, and
uphold his discipline, and appealed to his own experience that the Lord had
blessed both him and his labors. He assured them that he had always lived
with them, and was now departing from them in the bonds of the truest and
sincerest love; begged their forgiveness for any peevish expressions which
had escaped his lips during his illness; returned them hearty thanks for
bearing his burdens; and, amid many tears on their side, shook hands
separately with, and bade farewell to them all. His last letter was written
to Farel to dissuade him from coming from Neufchatel to have a last
interview. Our readers will peruse it with interest.
"Farewell, may best and truest brother! and since it is
God's will that you remain behind me in the world, live mindful of our
friendship, which as it was useful to the church of God, so the fruit of it
awaits us in heaven. Pray, do not fatigue yourself on my account. It is with
difficulty I draw my breath, and expect that every moment will be my last.
It is enough that I live and die for Christ, who is the reward of his
followers both in life or death. Again, farewell with my brethren.—Geneva,
2nd of May, 1564."
Farel came, however, to see him; but we are not favored
with the particulars of the interview, which, between two brethren so long
and so warmly united, and both sinking into the grave, worn out with
suffering and toil, must have been most deeply interesting. The days that
now remained to him on earth, Calvin spent in almost continual prayer, and
ejaculating sentences from the Scriptures. On the 19th of May he took
finally to his bed, where he lay in much bodily weakness and suffering until
the 27th. About eight o'clock in the evening of that day, the signs of
approaching dissolution appeared. Beza, who had not long left him, was sent
for, but too late to see him expire. Before his friend could reach his
bed-side, his ransomed soul had passed from earth to heaven, apparently
without a struggle, as he looked like one who had fallen into a deep sleep,
without a trace of expiring agony.
Thus lived and thus died this great and good man, this
eminent servant of God, this memorable champion of the truth of the gospel,
this learned and godly Reformer, John Calvin. On that night and the
following day, according to the testimony of Beza, Geneva seemed plunged
into universal mourning. The state lamented the loss of its most
distinguished counselor; the church of its beloved pastor; the university of
its unwearied and able teacher; the poor of their firm friend and
sympathizing succourer; the ministers of a wise and affectionate
fellow-laborer; and a large circle of private Christians of their spiritual
guide and father. Nor was the feeling of grief and lamentation confined to
Geneva. The whole Reformed church, that had been so long and so deeply
indebted to his labors, and a large and increasing band of correspondents,
whose faithful and affectionate counselor he long had been, joined in
lamenting his loss.
That Calvin had his faults, his warmest friends
and greatest admirers cannot deny. His language at times against his
adversaries, though it must be borne in mind that it was the prevailing evil
of the day, was exceedingly violent and intemperate. "A beast, a pig, a
vagabond, a scurvy knave, an impostor, a foul-mouthed-dog;" such are some of
the epithets that fell from his pen. Castellio, against whom these angry
invectives were launched, thus pointedly reproves Calvin for using
them—"Even were I as truly all these things as I really am not, yet it ill
becomes so learned a man as yourself, the teacher of so many others, to
degrade so excellent an intellect by so foul and sordid abuse."
He was also stern and unforgiving on points where his own
authority was in question, and ruled, both in church and state, with too
much of an iron hand. The times were, however, peculiar, and a silken glove
was not adapted for the turbulent city of Geneva: nor were the principles of
liberty understood there as now with us, with whom they have been the growth
of centuries. The fairest way is to look at the result of his rule. That he
found Geneva full of riot and turbulence, a very sink of sin and immorality,
and left it at his death a seat of order and quiet, of morality and good
government, and a favored spot of truth in doctrine and godliness in life,
all must admit who are not blinded by a spirit of prejudice and error.
But his best and most enduring monument is the fruit of
his pen. There he peculiarly shone. His great and varied learning, his
logical, accurate mind, his deep knowledge of the scriptures, his ardent
love of truth, his clear and forcible style, and the strength of his
arguments, all combined to give his writings a power and prevalence in his
own age, of which we still feel the effects, but can hardly realize the
conception. His writings, it is true, are now little read, and have become
in a measure superseded by more modern works. It is good, however, to go at
times to the fountain-head; and Dr. Cole has thus conferred a benefit on the
church by translating and publishing the work at the head of the present
article.
Many speak as if Calvin invented those doctrines
which are so frequently called by his name, and others as if he first
discovered them in the Bible. He did neither the one nor the other. Before
Calvin had birth or being, they had a place in the scriptures of truth; and
before the Bible itself had birth or being, they had a place in the heart of
God. The grand doctrine of election was not left for Calvin to discover in
the Bible. It is not a faint, feeble glimmer in the word of truth, an
obscure doctrine, which, with much painstaking and piecing of text to text,
may at length be dimly descried lurking in some intricate passages, but a
ray of light that shines through and illuminates the whole scripture from
the first promise made in Eden to the close of the sacred canon.