THE Huguenots breathed freely, now that the bishop was gone. The rescued prisoner! were brought to trial before the lawful judges They were all acquitted, for there was no charge to bring against them.
One victim of the bishop’s wrath was still it peril of his life. This was Aimé Levet. He kept securely in the dungeons of the Castle Gail. lard, and the governor refused to release him Tidings came of the insults and the cruelties heaped upon him. But it was not without purpose that God thus left His servant in the hands of the enemy. Aimé Levet was being tried as gold in the furnace, and he was to come forth brighter than before.
As he lay in his dark dungeon, fresh beam: from the glory lighted up his soul, and he resolved that if ever the Lord led him forth again, he would make Christ known far and wide. Claudine was praying for him, and she was to have a better answer than merely his life and liberty.
Two months passed by, and then some Bernese ambassadors appeared at the Castle Gaillard, and demanded the prisoner. It would be a bold man who would dare to refuse Berne—and Aimé Levet was delivered up.
His first act was to write to Anthony Froment, and entreat him to return to Geneva. Anxiously did Aimé and Claudine wait for the answer. Though the bishop was gone, they knew that it would be at the risk of his life if Anthony again appeared at Geneva.
A few days passed, and then the most welcome answer arrived, being none other than Anthony himself!
He brought a friend with him, a preacher from Paris, whose name was Alexander. At once the preaching began.
The priests wrote off to the bishop, who wrote in return forbidding the “new-fangled preaching.” But the magistrates turned a deaf ear, and commanded in their turn that the gospel should be preached. From that moment the meetings became lawful—none could hinder them.
At last, in November, came a great letter from the bishop to the council of two hundred. “We command,” he said, “that no one in our city of Geneva preach, expound, or cause to be preached or expounded, the holy page, the holy gospel, without our express permission, under pain of perpetual excommunication, and a fine of one hundred pounds.” The letter was read to the assembled council. One and all, the two hundred rose up, and without saying a word, left the council-room. Their indignation was too great to allow them to answer. And the preachings were held far oftener than before. Testaments and tracts were given away in numbers by Anthony and Alexander; crowds came to the preaching, and the most careless began to read the books.
The priests were in despair. At that moment they heard of a learned doctor from Paris, who was just then preaching in Savoy. They entreated him to come.
The doctor, whose name was Furbity, lost no time, and one Sunday in November a troop of armed priests and their friends forced their way into the cathedral where it was not usual to have preaching, and took possession of the pulpit for Furbity. To give you a small portion of one of his sermons, will be better than a description of it.
“All,” said Furbity, in a thundering voice, “all who read the Bible in the vulgar tongue are gluttons, drunkards, lewd persons, blasphemers, thieves and murderers! Those who encourage them are as wicked as they, and God will punish them. All who eat meat on Friday, are worse than Turks and mad dogs. Beware of them, as you would of lepers. Have no dealings with them. Do not let them marry your daughters. You had better give them to the dogs.”
“A priest,” he said, “is above the Holy Virgin, for she only gave life, to Jesus Christ once, whereas the priest creates Him every day, as often as he likes. If he says the words of consecration over a sack full of bread, or in a cellar full of wine, all the bread by that act is transformed, and becomes the precious body of Christ, and all the wine is changed into His blood. The Virgin never did that! Where are those heretics, those rascals, those wretches worse than Jews, Turks, and heathens? Let them come forward, and they shall be answered. Ha, ha! they will take good care not to show themselves, except at the chimney corner, for they are only brave enough to deceive poor women and fools.”
Here Furbity stopped and looked around him. And suddenly, like David before Goliath, rose up our little Anthony in the middle of the cathedral. “For the love of God, good people, listen to what I have to say: I offer my life; I am ready to go to the stake, if I do not prove to you that the words of Doctor Furbity are false.”
And Anthony, opening his Testament, read passage after passage, and the Huguenots called out, “That is the truth, let him answer that.” But Doctor Furbity sat dumb, and hid his face. The priests waited in vain for his answer. Anthony continued to read. Then the priests, drawing their swords, rushed upon him. It was the only answer they could make. “Burn him!” shouted some. “Drown him!” shouted others. But Baudichon stepped forward, his sword drawn in his hand. “I will kill the first man who touches him,” he said. “If he has done wrong, the law may punish him.”
The Huguenots carried him off to Baudichon’s house, and hid him in the hay loft. A catholic magistrate speedily followed with officers and halberds. They searched the house, stuck their spears into the hay, but the hand of God was over His servant, and they went away without finding him.
The magistrates consulted together, and ordered that these “two Mahometans” (Anthony and Alexander) should be banished from the city within twenty-four hours, never to return. The officers of the city led Alexander out of the gates, followed by a large crowd. As soon as it was dark that evening, Baudichon coded Anthony out of the hay loft, went with him secretly out of the city to join Alexander, and then the three friends set off along the road so often trodden by Baudichon—the road to Berne.
You can now have some idea what sort of people were the Huguenots of Geneva. And you can understand that there was by the time the Bishop left, far more real faith and light amongst them, than at the time when William Farel first came to Geneva a year before. There were many of them who had truly turned to God. At the same time you will perhaps have remarked that they had no small faith in man’s power and strength. “The word of God,” the “Sword of the Spirit,” was not the only weapon to which they betook themselves.
Father Furbity and the priests were in great spirits when the “two Mahometans” were gone. Sunday, December 21, was the Feast of S. Thomas of Canterbury. Father Furbity preached a sermon on that day. He said that all who follow that cursed sect, are nothing else than people given up to lust, gluttons, unclean, ambitious, murderers and thieves. After the sermon the Captain de Pesmes went with many of his band to thank the reverend father for his good discourse. The reverend gentleman replied, “Sir Captain, I entreat you and all good faithful Christians to make good use of your swords to defend the truth.”
Scarcely had these words been spoken, when, like a sudden peal of thunder, the terrible news ran through the city— “Baudichon has come back from Berne, bringing—not an army of soldiers, but the banished Alexander and William Farel!”
“What! that wretch! that devil!” exclaimed the priests; “he is come back!”
And before the day was over, the Captain de Pesmes, seeing Baudichon and Farel in the street, put Father Furbity’s words into execution, and rushed upon them, followed by his “Christians.” But the Huguenots were on the watch, and dragged off their friends to a place of safety.
The next day Baudichon appeared before the council, and handed in a letter from the great lords of Berne.
“You drive away the preachers of the Holy Word,” said the Bernese. “We ask for a place in which William Farel may preach the Gospel publicly.”
The council knew not what to do.
William Farel meanwhile preached in a large room to the crowds who came there.
The Catholics had been in arms ever since the fourth Sunday in Advent. Their reason was to prevent the gospelers from bringing “their idol,” William Farel, to preach in St. Peter’s church, a plan which had been talked of by the Huguenots.
In the midst of the tumult caused by the bishop’s message, the Catholics were roused by a fresh arrival. Anthony Froment had come back! and scarcely had he appeared, when the Bernese ambassador himself demanded admittance at the city gates. He brought with him a young man, pale and ill. It was Peter Viret. He had been stabbed in the back by a priest at Payerne, but he was ready to preach, weak and exhausted as he was. F. B.