Stories such as those related above make it clear that rowdyism was likely to be the note of the Reformation at Geneva so long as Farel remained at the head of ecclesiastical affairs. With all his fiery zeal for Gospel truth, he was no better than a theological demagogue; and what Geneva wanted at the moment was not a demagogue, but a disciplinarian. Calvin supplied that need. He was a Protestant wanderer over the face of the earth, and he came to Geneva on his way from Italy to Strassburg. Farel, who had come to know his own limitations, called upon him in his inn, and prevailed upon him to stay and help him to keep order in the town, and, in particular, to help him to suppress certain Libertines, or Friends of Liberty, who had been protesting that the Reformers had no right to ‘require the citizens to attend sermons against their will,’ and demanding ‘liberty to live as they chose without reference to what was said by the preachers.’ Calvin, after much hesitation, consented, and so a new era began. It was not the work of a day. Calvin began energetically enough, admonishing Bonivard for undue familiarity with his servant-maid, standing a gambler in the pillory with a pack of cards hung round his neck, imprisoning a hairdresser for making a client look too beautiful, and endeavouring to throw ridicule upon conjugal infidelity by obliging an offender to ride round the town on a donkey. But the recalcitrants fought stubbornly for the right of living as they chose. The people who wanted to live dissolute lives allied themselves with the people who wanted unleavened bread to be used for the Holy Communion; and the coalition was powerful enough to get Calvin and Farel first forbidden to meddle with politics, and then ordered to leave the town within three days. They were no sooner gone, however, than they began to be missed. The disorders, rampant during their absence, became intolerable, and there was some danger that the Duke of Savoy might see his way to take advantage of them. A majority of the citizens came to the conclusion that strict regulations were to be preferred to insecurity, and they sent ambassadors to Calvin, inviting him to return, and to ‘stay with them for ever because of his great learning.’ He agreed to do so, and they voted him a small but sufficient salary, and gave him a strip of cloth to make him a new gown. In return, he drafted for their acceptance a new and original constitution, whereby the morals, and even the manners, of the community were placed under ecclesiastical supervision. That was the famous Theocracy, established in 1541, which seemed to John Knox to make Geneva ‘the most perfect school of Christ that ever was in the earth since the days of the Apostles.’ A recital of a few of the enactments, taken from a contemporary translation entitled ‘The Laws and Statutes of Geneva,’ will be the most simple means of presenting the picture of the social life of the town under the regime: