The guilty project of getting rid of the three Reformers at once had the opposite consequences to what its authors had hoped. The atrocity of the attempt increased the love of the people for the Reform, and detracted greatly from the reputation of the priests. The most sinister reports were circulated about them. It was said that they had tried to poison the bread and wine of the Lord's Supper, in order to cut off all the reformed at a blow. People shrank from them in the streets as they passed, as if their simple approach could inflict death.[501]
All Geneva was in commotion: a transformation of that little state became imminent. At this time ambitious popes and despotic princes exercised absolute power. Two kinds of enfranchisement were necessary for Christendom: that of the nation and that of the Church. The Genevese sought after both: some rallied round the banner of faith, others round that of liberty; but the more enlightened minds saw that these two holy causes should never be separated; and that the political awakening of a nation can only succeed so far as the awakening of the conscience tends to prevent disorder.[502] In no country, perhaps, were these two movements so simultaneous as in Geneva. Certain natural phenomena are studied in microscopic animalcules: a moral phenomenon may be illustrated in the history of this small city which may be enunciated in these words: 'He who desires to be free must believe.'[503]
The Gospel, however, was not as yet triumphant. While the Roman-catholics always had their parishes, their churches, and numerous priests, the reformed had but one place of worship, and three ministers. Such a state of things could not last long. An important event occurred to hasten the victory of the Gospel and of liberty.
At the very moment when a pious reformer was descending near to the gates of death, the head of the Franciscans in Geneva was taking the new road 'that leadeth unto life.' The three brothers Bernard—Claude, the elder, in whose house the reformers received a Christian hospitality; Louis, priest of St. Pierre; and Jacques, guardian or superior of the Franciscan convent—were among the most notable citizens of Geneva. The two elder had for some time embraced the Reform; but the third, a monk, had remained a zealot for popery. Ere long he himself was shaken. Seeing the three ministers closely at his brother Claude's, he learnt by their life to esteem their doctrine, and their virtues struck him so much the more, as he had lived in popery a life by no means regular himself. He examined himself seriously whether he would not do well to renounce monasticism.[504] The light of the Gospel began to shine into his heart. Nothing struck him so much as the thought that Christ, in his great love, had procured for his followers by his death a _perfect_ reconciliation with God. The character which popery ascribed to the mass appeared to him to do injury to the infinite price of the Saviour's passion. 'I am convinced,' said he to Farel, at the end of one of their conversations. 'I am one of you!'—'Good!' answered the reformer, 'but if faith is kindled in your heart, it is necessary that the light should be shown abroad. Confess your faith publicly before men.' Jacques was determined not to spare himself, and not only to declare for the Gospel, but, further, to endeavor to make it known to his fellow-citizens. He posted up bills on February 19th, that during Lent he would preach every afternoon in the convent church.