These efforts came to nothing. The government of bishops and princes, established in different parts of christendom, was at first mild and paternal, compared with the government of certain lay lords; but long ago, the bishops had lost the superiority which could legitimatise their authority, and the lay power had, on the contrary, gained great influence in the world. In France, especially since the thirteenth century, royalty, by displaying a character of kindness, had favoured the progress of the people in things material, intellectual, and even moral; and if Francis I., notwithstanding a personal character by no means estimable, holds a brilliant place in history, it must be ascribed to this quality in French royalty. But almost all the bishop-princes of Geneva who preceded the Reformation, cared little for the development of the nation, except it were to thwart it. John of Savoy and Pierre de la Baume were nothing but selfish dissolute priests. No halo was seen on their brows; and thus they found one day that there was no firm ground under their feet. Ecclesiastical authorities, even when honest, are apt to despise the temporal interests of their subjects; and as unhappily spiritual interests do not much affect ambitious prelates, the immortal souls and the earthly liberties of their flocks are equally oppressed by them. The duke, who knew better than anybody the weakness of the episcopal power (which he had mainly caused), felt his ambition increase, and resolved to put an end to it. With this intent he would take a step which, by giving him what Savoy had coveted for centuries, would fortify him with a title calculated to impose silence on the complaints of the prelate, the accusations of the fugitives, and the demands of the Swiss. He determined to convene a general council, composed almost exclusively of his creatures, from which he would obtain, either by persuasion or by a great display of force, the homage due to a sovereign. To attain his object he began by toning down his insolent conduct and his unjust pretensions. Treasurer Boulet, first cause of all these disturbances, being obliged to furnish his accounts at the hôtel-de-ville, was condemned. The citizens imprisoned or fined received the promise of an early amnesty; and imagining he had thus gained every heart, Charles desired the people to be called together, that all the community might know of the good-will he entertained towards them. The syndics and the bishop’s vicar, perceiving that the fatal hour had arrived, refused his demand. They were not strong, but fear came upon them in that solemn moment when they saw Geneva suspended over the abyss. Gruet, the vicar, stammered out some excuses: ‘Nobody would come to the council,’ he said, ‘but rabble and ruffians.’ It was precisely what the duke wanted. Being already master of Geneva and claiming to make everything bend under his absolute will, he would not allow Gruet to finish his speech: ‘It is my council’s advice,’ he