The Bernese ambassadors next appeared before the Council, and asked permission for the Gospel to be publicly preached in one of the churches. The syndics replied that it was just what they wanted, and that they would require the Lent preacher to conform his sermons to the Gospel.

Dominicans And Franciscans.

The fanatical Dominican, empowered to deliver the Advent lectures, having compromised catholicism, and the council having declared against every preacher who should not preach according to God’s Word, the Genevan clergy determined to make a last effort. They said they must choose a monk of another sort for the Lent course, and consequently turned to the Franciscans, who had often dreamt of a transformation of religious society. There were great differences between these two mendicant orders: the Dominicans were rich, the Franciscans poor; the Dominicans aimed at dominion, the Franciscans at humility; the Dominicans were fossilized in their doctrines and customs, the Franciscans were flexible and had a taste for innovations. They knew how to catch the multitude by their enthusiasm and flagellations, by their insinuating manners and miraculous visions. It is a man of this sort, said the oldest of the catholics, that we want after the Dominican. If Geneva had resisted the roughness of the one, it would be captivated by the flatteries of the other. In this manner the clergy hoped to lead Geneva insensibly back into the arms of Rome.

Father Courtelier, superior of the Franciscans of Chambery, renowned for his eloquence and wit, was invited to come and preach at Geneva during Lent. He arrived on Saturday, the 14th of February: next morning (it was the Sunday preceding Shrove Tuesday) he appeared before the Council. The premier syndic, assuming a duty that was somewhat episcopal, said to him: ‘Reverend father, you must preach nothing but the pure Gospel of God.’—‘I undertake to do so,’ replied the monk, who had been well tutored; ‘you will be satisfied.’ And then desiring to show how accommodating he was, he presented nine articles, saying: ‘This is what I desire to preach;’ adding, as if he was before the college of cardinals: ‘Strike out what you do not approve of.’ The Council, in great part Lutheran, finding themselves converted by the priest into a court of doctrine, ordered the paper to be read. Invocation of the Virgin Mary was one of the articles; Purgatory was another; Prayer for the dead; Invocation of the Saints.... The huguenots objected, and these four points were struck off the list; but he was allowed to make the sign of the cross in the pulpit, to repeat the salutation of the angel to Mary, which is recorded in the Gospel of St. Luke, and to celebrate mass. The priest returned to his convent with the revised articles.[[482]]

Courtelier’s Sermon.

On Ash Wednesday the reverend superior went into the pulpit and labored skilfully to retain Geneva in the orbit of the papacy. The two chiefs of the Reformation—the layman Baudichon de la Maisonneuve and the reformer Farel—with many of their accomplices (as Father Courtelier styles them),[[483]] desirous of hearing how the monk would manage to make the pope and Luther agree, had gone to the Franciscan church at Rive (Courtelier had not been admitted to the honor of the cathedral). The monk began by repeating in a sonorous voice the invocation to the Virgin: Ave Maria ..., at which Farel and the huguenots called out so that all could hear them: ‘It is a foolish thing to salute the Virgin Mary!’—‘I do it by permission of the Council,’ answered the monk ingenuously, and all the catholics in the congregation, desiring to support their champion, began to cry out: Ave Maria, gratia plena! There was such a loud and universal murmur, that Farel, Maisonneuve, and their friends were obliged to hold their tongues.[[484]]

Courtelier continued, endeavoring to speak at once according to the pope and the Gospel. One sentence contradicted another; what was white one moment was black the next; his sermon was a muddle of ideas without issue, a strain of music without harmony. Farel and his friends soon understood the manœuvre. ‘He is using a cloak to entrap us,’ they said, ‘and will take care not to show his teeth at starting. He gives us drink ... as they did at Babylon, poison in a golden chalice.’ Disgusted with such trimming, Farel stood up and said: ‘You cannot teach the truth, for you do not know it.’ The poor friar stopped short: resuming his courage by degrees and wishing to please the friends of the Gospel, he began to inveigh against both priests and popes. It was now the turn of the catholics; and the Franciscan, noticing their anger and desiring to regain their favor, began once more to vituperate the reformers. Without doctrine, without opinions, he fluctuated between Rome and Wittemberg, and instead of satisfying everybody, he exasperated both parties. ‘We cannot serve God and the devil,’ said Froment with disgust.

The reverend superior now changed his tactics, knowing, as all good Franciscans did, that flies are to be caught with honey, and began to praise the Genevans in extravagant language: ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said from the pulpit, ‘beware how you suffer yourselves to be seduced by the people (Farel and his two friends) who teach you that you and your fathers were idolaters, and that you are being led away to hell. No! you are a noble and mighty city ... you are of good repute ... and worthy people.... Ladies and gentlemen, always preserve your glorious title, and make yourselves worthy of the great name borne by your noble city. Is it not called Geneva, Gebenna,[[485]] that is to say, gens bona, gens benigna, gens sancta, gens præclara, gens devota? ... a good, merciful, holy, illustrious, and devout people.... Your name declares it.’ The monk was inexhaustible in extravagant compliments, although he knew very well what he ought to think of the ‘holiness’ of the Genevese, and particularly of the monks and priests.

This final effort of Roman-catholicism in Geneva did not succeed. On the contrary, the huguenots, provoked by his fawning, said: ‘We do not desire to please either gentlemen or ladies,’[[486]] and moved with firm steps in the path of Reform. Farel, setting aside the manifold ceremonies with which Rome had overburdened public worship, desired to re-establish baptism in conformity with the Gospel institution, as a sign of regeneration. The news spread, and excited great curiosity even among the strangers who were in Geneva. On the 22d of February, the first Sunday in Lent, two Savoyards, Claude Theveron of the mountains of the Grand-Bornand, and Henry Advreillon of the parish of Thonon, were in the Molard, where also a number of Genevans, both catholics and Lutherans, had assembled. ‘Have you heard,’ said one of them, ‘that there is going to be a baptism at Baudichon’s house?’—‘Let us go and see what it is like,’ said the Savoyards; and, following some huguenots, they entered a large hall, which had been contrived by removing the partitions.[[487]] Some of the seats were already occupied; the two strangers were able to find room, but the later arrivals were compelled to stand near the door. ‘There must be three hundred and more present,’ said Advreillon to his friend. On a raised chair sat a young man with mild countenance and sharp eyes: they were told it was Viret of Orbe; right and left of him were Farel and Froment. A gentleman of the city of good appearance, who seemed to be between forty and fifty years old, showed the people to their seats and watched to see that everything was conducted with propriety. ‘That is Baudichon de la Maisonneuve,’ the Savoyards were informed, ‘the master of the house, and the greatest Lutheran in Geneva.’[[488]]

A Reformed Baptism.