This request was refused. Calvin was able to do his own burning. As for that terrible walk to the place of execution, with a delegation of arguing ministers surrounding the heretic upon his last journey, the agony which lasted for more than half an hour and did not really come to an end until the crowd, in their pity for the poor martyr, had thrown a fresh supply of fagots upon the flames, all this makes interesting reading for those who care for that sort of thing, but it had better be omitted. One execution more or less, what difference did it make during a period of unbridled religious fanaticism? But the case of Servetus really stands by itself. Its consequences were terrible. For now it was shown, and shown with brutal clearness, that those Protestants who had clamored so loudly and persistently for “the right to their own opinions” were merely Catholics in disguise, that they were just as narrow-minded and cruel to those who did not share their own views as their enemies and that they were only waiting for the opportunity to establish a reign of terror of their own. This accusation is a very serious one. It cannot be dismissed by a mere shrug of the shoulders and a “Well, what would you expect?” We possess a great deal of information upon the trial and know in detail what the rest of the world thought of this execution. It makes ghastly reading. It is true that Calvin, in an outburst of generosity, suggested that Servetus be decapitated instead of burned. Servetus thanked him for his kindness, but offered still another solution. He wanted to be set free. Yea, he insisted (and the logic was all on his side) that the court had no jurisdiction over him, that he was merely an honest man in search for the truth and that therefore he had the right to be heard in open debate with his opponent, Dr. Calvin. But of this Calvin would not hear. He had sworn that this heretic, once he fell into his hands, should never be allowed to escape with his life, and he was going to be as good as his word. That he could not get a conviction without the coöperation of his arch-enemy, the Inquisition, made no difference to him. He would have made common cause with the pope if His Holiness had been in the possession of some documents that would further incriminate the unfortunate Spaniard. But worse was to follow. On the morning of his death, Servetus asked to see Calvin and the latter came to the dark and filthy dungeon that had served his enemy as a prison. Upon this occasion at least he might have been generous; more, he might have been human. He was neither. He stood in the presence of a man who within another hour would be able to plead his case before the throne of God and he argued. He debated and sputtered, grew green and lost his temper. But not a word of pity, of charity, or kindliness. Not a word. Only bitterness and hatred, the feeling of “Serve you right, you obstinate scoundrel. Burn and be damned!”