pardon me!’[305] It is gratifying to hear this cry of an awakening conscience at the termination of a criminal life. Unfortunately Pierre de la Baume did not profit by this solemn advice. The bastard died after horrible sufferings, ‘inflicted by the divine judgment,’ says Bonivard, ‘and he went into the presence of the Sovereign to plead with those whose blood he had shed.’--‘At the time of his death, he was so withered,’ adds the prior of St. Victor, ‘that he did not weigh five and twenty pounds.’ The prophecy of Pécolat was fulfilled: _Non videbit dies Petri._ Instead of twenty-five years the episcopacy of John of Savoy had only lasted nine. Geneva was about to change masters. The struggle which had characterised the episcopacy of John of Savoy could not fail to be renewed if, instead of a shepherd, the Genevese received a hireling. Who would come off victorious in this new combat? Would the old times be maintained; or, thanks to a prelate who understood the wants of the age and the nature of the Gospel, should we witness the commencement of a new era? There was little hope that it would be so. The episcopal see of Geneva, which gave the rank of temporal prince, was much coveted by nobles, and even, as we have seen, by members of the sovereign families. These worldly bishops thought only of getting rich and of living in pomp and pleasure, careless of the good government of the Church or of feeding their flock. The thrones of such princes could not but totter and fall erelong. Pierre de la Baume, certain good qualities notwithstanding, could not prevent this catastrophe; on the contrary, he accelerated it. He had wit and imagination; but was weak, vain, and inclined to the same habits of servility as his predecessor, ‘incapable,’ says an historian, ‘of comprehending any other happiness than sleeping well, after he had eaten and drunk well.’[306] The bastard having breathed his last, Pierre, kneeling by the side of his bed, rose up a bishop. He took immediate steps to secure his new property from pillage, and on the 7th of February, 1522, wrote a letter to ‘his dearly beloved and trusty syndics, councillors, citizens, and community of Geneva,’ which gave no promise that the reign of truth would be witnessed during his episcopacy. He began with the falsehoods usual in such cases, and informed the Genevans that his predecessor had ‘made as holy an end as ever prelate did, calling upon his Creator and the Virgin Mary with his latest breath.’ He reminded them at the same time ‘of the great love and affection which John had felt while alive for them and for all his good subjects.’ ... ‘Witness the chestnut-tree at the bridge of Arve,’ said some.[307]