Still there were not wanting many, both laymen and clerics, natives of Geneva, as well as refugees, devoutly attached to Calvinistic doctrines, who showed a lively repugnance to pushing matters the length of capital punishment in cases of heresy; the instinctive feeling of all pointing to this as the conclusion aimed at by the prosecution. For Reformers—heretics themselves in the eyes of the dominant European Church—to have recourse to measures that appeared in such an odious light when brought into requisition by Roman Catholics, seemed illogical, unwarrantable, and dangerous. But the number who raised their voices in this direction was small. The prisoner was not an object of interest to the Libertine party in general; a stranger in Geneva, he was in some sort the particular puppet of Perrin and Berthelier, rather than the representative of a principle. Even to the leaders he was nothing more than a counter in the political game of the day. In a word, and in so far as anything was known about him to the public, the man entertained extraordinary, and what seemed blasphemous opinions on religion, as they had learned to understand the word, and so must be a wicked and worthless person, who might safely be left to be dealt with by the ministers and civil authorities in the way they judged best.

Calvin, at this momentous juncture, maintained an attitude of entire confidence as to the pending decision. He had been informed of the tenor of the letters received from the Swiss cities; and, aware of their uniform agreement in the theological culpability of Servetus, he could rely on the effect this must produce on the minds of the Judges. He seems even to have thought it unnecessary any longer to exert the special influence he could always bring to bear on any question in debate before the Council—he refrained from preaching against the prisoner and holding him up as a blasphemer against God and religion, as had been his wont.

October 26.—The Council, in its capacity of High Court of Criminal Justice, solemnly convoked for this day, was well attended, though not quite complete as to numbers; Amied Perrin, cured of his indisposition, presiding.

The Governing Body of the Republic of Geneva consisted, as we have seen, of two extreme and mutually opposed parties—the Libertines, or patriots, and the Clericals, or abettors of Calvin and theocratic rule. Each of these had representatives in the Council whose voices could be implicitly relied on. But—as in all general assemblies that ever came together, there are still found a certain number of neutrals or waverers, men of no strong convictions one way or another; too weak in some cases to rely on themselves and act independently; too strong in others to be led by any convictions but their own, whose votes could make the balance incline one way or another, so were they not wanting in the Council of Geneva at this time. Now, in the fateful meeting of October 26, it was observed that several of the most constant opponents of Calvin had absented themselves, whilst not one of his regular supporters failed to appear.

The resolution to be come to was delicate, on matters unfamiliar, and apt to excite the scruples of the conscientious and timid. It was the life of no brutal offender against person or property, no criminal, in fact, save by construction, that was in debate, but that of a scholar of varied accomplishments, against whom no social delinquency had been charged, or, if charged, which had not been rebutted, and fallen to the ground. Yet was this man accused of heresy and blasphemy against God and religion, not only by the distinguished head of the Church of Geneva and its other ministers, but was now found guilty of these theological crimes, involving, as they were said to do, disruption of the entire social fabric, by every one of the Confederate Churches and Councils consulted. What, forsooth, could be urged in behalf of him who had spoken of the Trinity as a three-headed monster, comparable to the hell-dog of the heathen poets, and declared the Baptism of Infants to be an invention of the devil?

And then, and yet more, it was not by the Reformed Churches only that the prisoner had been challenged for heresy, and found guilty; he had been tried and convicted on this ground by their neighbours the Roman Catholics of Vienne, been burned in effigy by them along with his books, and only escaped burning in person by breaking from his prison. The Genevese, moreover, had been frequently reproached as well by papists as by professors of other forms of Christianity akin to their own, with laxity in matters of doctrine, and even called abettors of heresy and shelterers of heretics; and they had, indeed, been invaded of late by a host of individuals fleeing for their lives, through entertaining all manner of new and hitherto unheard-of opinions on religion.

Weary on every side of wranglings upon subjects they did not understand, the clerical party in the Senate would not be thought less than zealous for the true Faith—the Faith which was their own; whilst the more timid of their adversaries sought excuse and escape from responsibility by absenting themselves at the moment the vote must be given on the guilt or innocence of the prisoner. But everything at the moment conspired to associate theological dissidence with social criminality, and to make of the independent critic of particular religious dogmas the enemy of all religion.

In the light, therefore, in which Servetus was regarded, his cause was not seen as one through which, in the event of a decision in his favour, the Liberal party in the Council of Geneva might hope to find greater freedom to lead their lives in the way they listed; neither, through a sentence adverse to him, was it one through which they foresaw that the iron hand of Calvin would be made either lighter or heavier than it was. There were, in fact, more reasons for letting Calvin have his way here than for opposing him—for suffering Servetus to burn, than for saving his life. The Council had been hard upon the Reformer of late, and were not disposed to quarrel with him in a matter that had but a remote connection with their domestic concerns. Backed as their great theologian was by the Swiss Churches, they believed that they might safely and with propriety now show themselves on his side, by condemning the heretic to death.

The meeting of the Court on the 26th, then, not so fully attended as we have said by the usual opponents of Calvin as by his supporters, had to face the painful duty of pronouncing sentence on their prisoner at last. A resolution finding him guilty of the charges alleged, and so deserving of death, must now have been moved by one of the members—by whom we are not informed—for we find it immediately met, on the part of Perrin, by a counter-resolution, declaring him not guilty. Perrin, we must presume, maintained that the charges were not of a nature that fell properly under their cognisance as a Court of Criminal Justice. Nothing had been brought home to the prisoner that showed him to be a disturber of the public peace, and so came within the sphere of what he held to be their proper jurisdiction. Perrin must, therefore, have argued that the Court could only pronounce him not guilty. But this would plainly have been to stultify the whole of their proceedings during the last two months and more. The Court, by the laws of the country, was competent in causes of every complexion, and the prosecution had proceeded from the first on the ground of theological criminality. The proposition of the First Syndic, consequently, could not be entertained, but was rejected as a matter of course. Perrin then moved that the cause should be remitted to the Council of the Two Hundred. But this proposal was also negatived: the General Council in its capacity of Criminal Court, could not waive its right of decision in a case in which its competence was recognised, and such ample pains had been taken to get at the merits of the case. Perrin must then, doubtless, have pleaded for some punishment short of the extreme penalty of death awarded to the heretic by the law of the land. This last effort failing like the others, and the Records of the Court giving no intimation of any further motion in favour of the prisoner, the following resolution was moved, and by a majority of votes adopted:

‘Having a summary of the process against the prisoner, Michael Servetus, and the reports of the parties consulted before us, it is hereby resolved, and, in consideration of his great errors and blasphemies, decreed, that he be taken to Champel, and there burned alive; that this sentence be carried into effect on the morrow, and that his books be burned with him.’[98]