Still an appeal to the people was a bold measure, for there yet existed among the citizens, and even in the council, many decided adversaries of reform, and some of them were among the most eminent men. Might not such an appeal stir up an opposition which would overthrow all that had been done? The position of the Roman-catholics was most serious. They were required to conform to the Gospel. Could they do so? Their consciences forbade them. Were they to refuse, they would disturb the unanimity and harmony so necessary to the people at that juncture. Pierre Lullin, almost a septuagenarian, uncle of the haughty huguenot Jean Lullin, was one of the most fervent catholics in Geneva. Unable to do without the mass, he had asked, in September 1535, to be allowed to have it performed by a priest in a chapel of St. Gervais, which was his private property. Another eminent man, Syndic Balard, had ceased indeed to be a partisan of the bishop, but he had taken refuge in a catholicism more spiritual than Lullin's, and yet quite as marked. According to his views, the Holy Ghost governed the Roman-catholic church, which church, communicating that spirit to its members, imposed on them the obligation of finding its doctrines in Scripture. Lullin, Balard, and some others, had frequent conferences together. The sincere catholics were not the only persons to be feared; they were supported by Genevans of scant faith, who cried out against the Reformation, principally because of its rigid morality. The reformers themselves were not without fear with regard to many of those who at that time walked with them. There were men who heard the preachers, but went no farther; they burnt the idols, but did not reform their lives. 'For faith to be secure, it must be governed by conscience,' said the theologians, 'otherwise there is danger that it will be swamped, and that the ship will founder in a stormy sea.' Were they about to witness a renewal of those tumults which had so often disturbed the General Councils?[749] At length the 21st of May arrived—that day at once so longed for and so feared. The bells rang out cheerfully; Clémence wafted through the air the words carved on her surface: 'I summon the people. Jesus, Saviour of men, Son of Mary, salvation of the world! be merciful and propitious to us!' The good citizens congratulated each other, as they obeyed the summons, that this day would put an end to innumerable struggles, and that the city, so long wasted by briers and thorns, would now be covered by the hand of God with flowers and laurels. The emotion was universal. [Sidenote: THE QUESTION AND THE ANSWER.]