(Continued from p. 96.)
IT must have been just at this point that William Farel left the old city. He must have had a sad parting with Master Faber, and with the little band of believers whom he was leaving behind; but the time was come when he must turn his back openly upon Rome and upon those who, like his dear old master, still hung back from the great step of coming out to Christ only, apart from all that man had invented. Where did William betake himself? We read in the history that God has written of His servants, of Benaiah, the son of Jehoiada, who tracked the lion in the snow to the pit where it lay. In like manner, just now, when Bedier had so nearly wreaked his vengeance upon Louis de Berquin, and had stirred up all Paris to the attack upon the bishop, it was to Paris that William Farel returned. He there spoke boldly and faithfully of Christ and His gospel. He openly denounced the wickedness and idolatry of Rome. But the door was shut. None would now receive the message. The wonderful thing is that none laid hands on him. We know not how this was, but we shall find it was often so in his remarkable history. Farel gave his last message to the Paris university, and he gave it to deaf ears. He then, for the last time, turned his back upon the great city, and returned by way of Metz to his old home at Les Farelles.
Meanwhile, what was happening to the bishop of Meaux? He listened with terror to the accusations and threats of the parliament and of the monks. He well knew how narrowly Master Faber had escaped being burnt alive. He could foresee the fate that was hanging over Louis de Berquin, should he again fall into the hands of Bédier. What should he do? On the one hand disgrace and the stake, on the other hand his miter and throne, the favor of the court and parliament, and the respect of all who owned the pope as their master! Should he deny Christ? Satan whispered to him that there was a middle course. He need not give up the gospel, but he might make an outward show of satisfying Rome. He might serve two masters. This he resolved to do. He said he would give up Luther’s writings, and he would consent that the Virgin should be worshipped. “I can always tell people,” he said to himself. “that it is through Christ alone she can have power to help.” But would he give up his beloved friends, Master Faber and the Roussels? Again Satan put into his heart the cowardly excuse, that were he to banish them from Meaux they would but carry the light elsewhere; he would thus be serving the cause of the gospel. Thus did a deceived heart turn aside this miserable man.
On the fifteenth of October, 1523, he published three commands. First, that prayer was to be made for the dead, and that the virgin and the saints were to be worshipped. Second, that no one was to buy, borrow, read, or possess Luther’s writings; on the contrary, they were to be torn, scattered to the winds, or burnt. Third, that the doctrine of purgatory was to be taught. A month later he forbade the priests of Meaux to permit the “Lutherans” to preach. The gospel teachers were by this time called “Lutherans,” though, as we have seen, Master Faber and Farel had known and believed the gospel before Luther had clearly believed it himself.
In the following January the bishop proclaimed that the images were to be held in veneration. The first president of the parliament and a councilor, called Verjus, went to Meaux to observe the bishop’s proceedings. In their presence he had to preach in opposition to the new heresies. They returned to Paris fully satisfied with him, and the only punishment inflicted on him for his past offenses was the payment of a heavy fine. Their next attack was upon Master Faber, who still remained at Meaux. But the king a second time stood up in his defense. He respected his learning, and despised the monks and doctors for the ignorance shown in their arguments against him. Therefore Master Faber was again left in peace. He could not preach publicly at Meaux, but he taught privately, and tried to make himself happy in the sight of many souls really turned to the Lord. But his conscience would sometimes reproach him when he thought of Louis de Berquin’s imprisonment, and of Farel, who had boldly disowned all fellowship with Rome. Still Master Faber was true to the faith he taught, and in contrast with the bishop, we may think of him as a faithful but weak servant of the Saviour whom he truly loved.
We must now return to William Farel. It was with a feeling of terror that his family heard of his being on his homeward road. The tidings of his strange doings at Paris and at Meaux had reached them long before. And now he was once more amongst them in the old home. The grew Alps, the deep green valleys, the mountain villages around him, as in old times. But to him all was changed. He could see in his beloved Dauphiné only a land of darkness, where Christ was not. As soon as he arrived, he gave to all around the blessed message with which God had sent him. As he had given it at Paris and at Meaux, so now he gave it at Les Farelles, at Gap, and at every village round. He preached in the streets and fields, in mills and farmyards, on the rocks by the river side, on the slopes of the mountains. Wherever two or three could be gathered to hear, he was there with his Bible and his voice of thunder, preaching and teaching Jesus Christ.
It was but a very little while before his brothers, Daniel, John-James, Walter, and Claude believed, and were saved. The priests arose in fury. A young man, not a clergyman at all, thus to preach! To preach heresy, and to preach anywhere and everywhere! He was summoned before the bishop and the magistrates of Gap, and banished from the district. But the word of the Lord could not be banished. Besides his four brothers, many appear at this time to have turned to the Lord. Amongst these was a boy called Anthony Boyoe, a cousin of William’s.
Remember this boy Anthony, you will hear of him again. There was also an old friend of William’s, one with whom he had played when a boy at Les Farelles. This young man was the second son of the lord of Châtelbard, who lived near Gap. His name was Anemond. He had distinguished himself as a knight in the service of Francis I, and had lived at the court for some time, a merry but not a thoughtless man; that is to say, he had thought so far as to see how empty and foolish were the forms and ceremonies which were all he knew of that religion which men called Christianity. He therefore ceased to observe them. But he was like many at that time, when the new learning aroused men to think, though it could not lead them to the truth. He simply cast off his old religion and lived without God. A time came, however, when he found that the soul cannot be satisfied by reason and common sense. A terrible accident befel him at a tournament held at the “Field of the Cloth of Gold,” which you have read of in the history of our King Henry VIII. The young knight was wounded in the eye by a splintered lance, and a long illness followed. He was carried home, when he could bear the journey, to the old castle in Dauphiné, and there remained a miserable and disappointed man, unable for many long months to leave his room.
He thought that if ever he recovered he would become a monk, for he could not now live without God. He hoped that in the convent he might at last find Him, and get rest to his soul.
A man came one day into his room. Anemond knew him at once, in spite of his long, wild-looking red beard. It was his old friend William Farel, now a homeless outcast, living in the woods and caves upon the mountain slopes. The time had come when William’s knowledge of the rocks and glens, and his skill in climbing amongst the hills, stood him in good stead, for it was at the risk of his life he appeared in the villages to preach, and when he did so, no one knew whence he came or whither he went. He sat down by the side of the sick man, and, opening his Bible, he spoke to him of Jesus. Anemond listened eagerly. He was one of those athirst for the living water, and to whom the call of Christ is welcome indeed. Perhaps it was the joy and peace that filled his soul that gave fresh strength to his body. He soon recovered from his illness. In the meantime he spoke earnestly to his elder and his younger brothers, entreating them to believe the blessed tidings of God’s dear Son. His eldest brother was angry and scornful, but the younger one, Lawrence, who was very fond of Anemond, seemed glad to hear the gospel. It does not seem, however, clear that he was really turned to God. Anemond then made over his share of the family property to Lawrence, and left his home. He wished to see Luther and Zwingli.
Who was Zwingli? You have not heard of him before. I cannot now tell you the whole of his history, but will say, in few words, that he had been, since the year 1518, the preacher in the cathedral of Zurich, in Switzerland. He had begun, like Luther in Germany, to understand that sinners are saved by the death of Christ; and having by degrees gained light from the Bible, he had spoken boldly against some of the evil teaching of popery. It would seem that he had at first opposed the popish teaching, not so much because it was contrary to the Bible, but because he thought it opposed to reason and good sense; and when he first was appointed preacher at Zurich, he does not appear to have himself passed from death to life, though he was already known as inclined to Protestantism. It is, alas! very easy to be a Protestant, and to see that popery is foolish, and even wrong, without faith in Christ, or love to God. There were numbers of people at that time, and there are greater numbers now, who could argue to any extent against the errors of popery, but with hearts as far from God, and as much at enmity with Him, as the hearts of the pope and the monks. It would seem, however, that a year later, in 1519, Zwingli was brought, through a dangerous illness, to come himself to Christ as the Saviour.
Just at the time when Anemond de Châtelbard was turned to God, the news had been spread abroad that Zwingli had caused all the images and relics in the churches of Zurich, and of the surrounding villages, to be taken away and destroyed. He had, therefore, made one great step. But he was still singing mass, and observing other popish forms. This he did, not so much because he thought it right himself, but for fear of giving offense to the priests by leaving it off. He possessed much of a not uncommon quality which many people then, and many in later times, praised and admired in him. They called it wisdom and moderation. Farel would have called it “the prudence of the flesh.” But whilst we can see now how Zwingli erred on the side of “fleshly prudence,” we can also observe that Farel was not always on his guard against the zeal and energy of the flesh. In this respect Zwingli and Farel stood in contrast to one another. Zwingli was always, to a great extent, a popular man, as he was careful and skillful in not arousing men to anger. He acted cautiously and by degrees.
William Farel might sometimes have given less offense by learning more of the meekness and gentleness of Christ. At the same time, the blessing of Luke 6:2222Blessed are ye, when men shall hate you, and when they shall separate you from their company, and shall reproach you, and cast out your name as evil, for the Son of man's sake. (Luke 6:22) belonged rather to Farel than to Zwingli, “Blessed are ye when men shall hate you, and when they shall separate you from their company, and shall reproach you, and cast out your name as evil, for the Son of Man’s sake.” There has been but one Servant of God, who could be perfectly meek, and perfectly devoid of the fear of man, and of the wisdom and prudence of the flesh, as well as of the violence and hastiness of the flesh. We shall look in vain for another.
Farel continued his preaching with great diligence amongst the mountain villages. He knew the rocks and caverns so well, and had so accustomed himself, when a boy, to climbing the mountains, that it was easy for him to find safe hiding-places. “The crosses, persecutions, and devices of Satan,” he said, “of which I have been forewarned, have not been wanting; they are even much severer than I could have borne of myself. But God is my Father; He has provided, and always will provide me the strength which I require.” It was a joy to the heart of Farel to see many sinners saved through the preaching of the word. F. B.