On the 1st of July, 1533, the Bishop of Geneva had returned to his city with the aid of the priests, the catholics, the Friburgers, and the ‘mamelukes,’ with the intention of ‘burying that sect,’ as he called the Reformation. Many of the most devoted friends of the Gospel were in exile or in the episcopal prison; hostile bands appeared in the neighborhood of the city, and all expected a victory of the Roman party. The tree was about to be violently uptorn before it had given any shade. But when God has placed a germ of religious, or even of political, life among a people, that life triumphs despite all the opposition of men. There are rocks and mountains which seem as if they would stop the course of the mighty waters, and yet the rivers still run on their way. The exasperated Pierre de la Baume chafed in Geneva, and beat the earth as if to crush reform and liberty beneath his feet; but by so doing he opened a gulf, in which were swallowed up his rights as a prince, his privileges as a bishop, taxes, revenue, priests, monks, mitres, images, altars, and all the religion of the Roman pontiffs. If the bishop was uneasy, the people were uneasy likewise. It was not only strong men who spoke against the abuses of the papacy, but even women extolled the prerogatives of the evangelical faith. One day (in June or July, 1533) there was a large party at one of their houses, and two gentlemen of the neighboring district, Sire de Simieux and M. de Flacien, ‘besides seven or eight of their varlets,’ were invited. In their presence the wife of Baudichon de la Maisonneuve professed the evangelical truth. De Simieux having reproved the Genevese lady, ‘It is very clear you are a good Papist,’ said she. ‘And that you are a good Lutheran,’ retorted De Simieux. ‘Would to God,’ exclaimed the lady, ‘that we were all so, for it is a good thing and a good law!’[382] The two gentlemen had had enough; they took leave of the ladies, and their eight ‘varlets’ followed them. Another incident will still better show the spirit of the times. An evangelical named Curtet had just been murdered. Many huguenots thought it strange that, while their adversaries struck down a man,—a real image of God,—they must respect images made of wood, canvas, or stone. There was a deservedly celebrated place in Geneva, formerly occupied by the castle of Gondebaud, King of Burgundy, whence his niece Clotilda, one day escaped to marry and convert Clovis. It was a very ancient arcade, only pulled down within these few years,[383] and known as the _Porte du Château_ (the castle gate). Near this place stood an image of the Virgin, an object of great veneration.[384] On the 12th of July, 1533, some ‘Lutherans,’ believing it to be blasphemy against God to regard the Virgin as ‘the salvation of the world,’ went to the gate, carried away the image, broke it to pieces, and burnt it.