The same day, after the services, the council met to deliberate on the occurrences of the day. Twelve members were present, and these were fully determined to punish, not the factious, but the reformers. Desirous that their resolutions should be passed by the highest authorities of the state, they decreed that the Council of the Two Hundred should assemble the next day, and the general council on the following day. They could hardly proceed more speedily.

On April 22 the syndics set forth the facts before the Two Hundred, dwelling particularly on the subject of the bread, although the ministers had stated that that question had nothing to do with their resolution. The bread seemed, therefore, to be merely used as a pretext. The syndics inquired of the Two Hundred whether they wished to adopt the ritual used at Berne. They replied in the affirmative. We have seen that the dominant party had obtained a majority in this council, and by what means they did so. The syndics next complained that the ministers had preached on Easter Day, although the magistrate had forbidden it, and they inquired whether they ought not to be committed to prison. The Two Hundred would not hear of imprisonment; but, with no less severity, they resolved to interdict the three ministers, Calvin, Farel, and Courault, from occupying the pulpit in the churches of the republic, and to order them to leave the city immediately upon the appointment of their successors. It is remarkable that, according to the Registers of the council, no mention was made either of the charges of licentiousness and blasphemy which Farel and Calvin had made in the pulpit, or of the refusal to celebrate the supper which had been the consequence. It is easy, however, to understand this silence. Those charges, were, undoubtedly, the most important fact in the conflict, and the magistrates, in omitting them, were straining at the gnat and swallowing the camel. Calvin said subsequently, but not with reference to this special instance, ‘Hypocrites, while they do not hesitate to give themselves up to indulgence in the grossest vices, are all the more austere and rigorous in matters which are of comparatively slight importance; and while they make pretence in that way of humbling themselves before God, they proudly insult him to his face.’[639] Licentiousness and blasphemy were very unpleasant topics, and on them the council was not at all inclined to dwell. Besides, had these grievances been spoken of, there must have been an investigation, evidence must have been taken, and witnesses called; and all this would have been very troublesome, and have taken a long time. Even if the government had commenced proceedings against the pastors, to punish them for making those charges, it is very doubtful whether they would have gained their cause, at least in the judgment of impartial men. It was a far more simple and expeditious plan to insist on this single fact, that preaching had been prohibited to the ministers, and that nevertheless they had preached. This required no proof, for all the town had seen and heard them. It is quite evident that it was on this ground they were punished. The council stood on its right, but it was assuredly a case to which the saying applies, Summum jus summa injuria.[640]

DENIAL OF JUSTICE.

After these disorders, these stormy scenes, and the banishment of the reformers, what was likely to happen? The bond of religion, so powerful to keep in check criminal desires and actions, being once broken, would not confusion, already so great, overrun the unhappy city? Would not the evangelical faith be trampled under foot? Should we not find Protestants themselves willing to join the mass with the Gospel? Would not Rome conspire to reintroduce in Geneva ‘the old religion’? Would not political independence itself be endangered? Would not the enemies of the Reformation attempt to make some compact with Savoy, and would not Berne itself, to whose influence Calvin seemed to be sacrificed, imperil the Genevese liberties? These fears, alas, were only too well founded! Calvin, who had so rigorously resisted Farel when the latter pressed him to settle at Geneva, could not now make up his mind to abandon the place. He wished to remain there to contend with all his might against the dangers which he saw besetting the city. ‘We perceived very clearly,’ he said, ‘that in this extremity, the safety of the Church required that she should not be deprived of her leaders. We therefore labored to retain our ministry as if it had been a struggle for our own existence.’[641] Calvin was anxious at all cost to prevent any overturn or convulsion in the Church and in the State. He felt the necessity of enlightening the people, of making them understand the importance of moral conduct, Christian faith, and cordial union. ‘It appeared to him,’ said he, ‘far easier to uphold the Church at the moment when she was ready to fall, than to re-establish her when once she had fallen, and was as good as lost.’[642] He therefore claimed, and claimed instantly, to be allowed to give an account of his reasons to the general council. He would explain everything, and the right side would win. It is unjust to deny a man accused the opportunity of setting forth the reasons of his conduct. But all was fruitless. Were the syndics afraid that Calvin would convince the people, or that the people would insult Calvin? We cannot decide the point. However it might be, they refused him what was due to him. It was a denial of justice. They preferred to condemn him without a hearing. Neither his own representations nor those of his colleagues were of any avail. Party spirit went so far as to close the mouth of the most eloquent, the most profound, the most learned, the most sincere, and the most able man of the age.[643]

The next day, April 23, the general council met in the cloisters of St. Peter’s to decide the fate of the reformers without having heard them.

Le pire des états, c’est l’état populaire,—

said great men of the seventeenth century.[644] We think otherwise in the nineteenth. It is nevertheless true that the people frequently disappoint the expectation formed of them, and deceive themselves. Every age has presented terrible examples of this. The people allow themselves to be easily influenced, and they rush headlong in the footsteps of those whom they have chosen for guides. This was what took place at Geneva. The syndics inquired of the people whether they wished to make use of unleavened bread at the supper, as was done at Berne, ‘without further dispute.’ The majority was in favor of unleavened bread, although they probably did not very clearly know what it meant. The syndics then informed the general council ‘that Farel, Calvin, and their colleagues had refused to obey the command of the magistrate; and inquired whether they would dismiss them or not.’ The ‘greatest voice,’ that of the majority of the people, in accordance with the resolution of the Little and the Great Councils, determined that they must leave the city within the next three days. ‘Thus was it ordered, the greater number in the council overcoming the better part.’[645] Such a course adopted against the most eminent men at that time in Geneva, the only ones whose names have come down to posterity, and carried out without giving them a hearing, was one of those violent measures to which bad governments sometimes have recourse—a coup d’état.

ORDER OF EXPULSION.

Further, this same council deposed the secretary who had read the articles of reformation. This secretary was Claude Rozet, who had received the oath to the confession of faith on the famous day of July 29, 1537. While banishing the three ministers, they wished to inflict a blow on at least one layman, and they made choice of the man who, in his official capacity, had established in Geneva the articles of reformation.[646]

Orders were given to make known to the reformers without delay the decree of the people, and the head usher was appointed, without further ceremony, to discharge that office. This man, having reached Calvin’s house, told him that he was enjoined by decree of the general council ‘to preach no more in the town, and to take his departure within the next three days.’[647] The reformer calmly made answer, ‘If we had served men, we should certainly be ill repaid; but happily for us we serve a greater master, who pays servants even what he does not owe them.’[648] The usher went next to Farel’s house. His reply to the announcement was, ‘Well and good; it is well, it is from God.’ In these words of the reformers there is a peace, firmness, and grandeur of soul which immediately strike those who read them, which some historians have called heroic,[649] and which no one has a right to call feigned.[650] Meanwhile the council was busied with other matters.