CHAPTER XI

Zuinglius against the Precepts of Man—Fermentation during Lent—Truth advances during Combat—The Deputies of the Bishops—Accusation before the Clergy and Council—Appeal to the Great Council—The Coadjutor and Zuinglius—Decree of the Grand Council—State of Matters—Attack by Hoffman.

Torn in his feelings as a citizen, Zuinglius devoted himself with new zeal to the preaching of the gospel, urging it with growing energy. “I will not cease,” said he, “to labour to restore the ancient unity of the Church of Christ.” He began the year 1522 by showing what difference there is between the precepts of the gospel and the precepts of men. The season of Lent having arrived, he raised his voice still more loudly. After laying the foundation of the new edifice, he wished to clear away the rubbish of the old. “For four years,” said he to the multitude assembled in the cathedral, “you with ardent thirst received the holy doctrine of the gospel. Enkindled by the flames of charity, fed with the sweets of heavenly manna, it is impossible to have still any relish for the sad element of human traditions.” Then attacking compulsory abstinence from flesh for a certain time, he exclaimed in his bold eloquence, “There are some who pretend that it is an evil, and even a great sin, to eat flesh, although God never forbade it; and yet do not consider it a crime to sell human flesh to the foreigner, and drag it to slaughter.”

³ The friends of foreign service who were present were filled with indignation and rage at these bold words, and vowed not to forget them.

While preaching thus forcibly, Zuinglius still continued to say mass: he observed the usages established by the Church, and even abstained from meat on the forbidden days. He was persuaded that the first thing necessary was to enlighten the people. But certain turbulent spirits did not act with so much wisdom. Roubli, who had become a refugee at Zurich, allowed himself to be carried away by the impulse of an extravagant zeal. The old curate of St. Alban, a Bernese captain, and Conrad Huber, a member of the great Council, often met at the house of the last to eat meat on Friday and Saturday, and made a boast of it. The question of abstinence was the engrossing topic. An inhabitant of Lucerne, who had come to Zurich, said to one of his friends there, “You do wrong in eating flesh during Lent.” The friend answered, “You Lucerne folks also take the liberty of eating it on the forbidden days.” The inhabitant of Lucerne rejoined, “We have purchased it from the pope.” The friend—“And we from the butcher. If it is a question of money, the one is surely as good as the other.” The council, a complaint having been lodged against the transgressors of the ecclesiastical ordinances, asked the advice of the curates. Zuinglius answered that the act of eating meat every day was not blameable in itself; but that it ought to be abstained from so long as competent authority had not given any decision on the point. The other members of the clergy concurred in this opinion. The enemies of the truth took advantage of this favourable circumstance. Their influence was on the wane. Victory was on the side of Zuinglius. It was necessary, therefore, to make haste and strike a decisive blow. They importuned the Bishop of Constance. “Zuinglius,” exclaimed they, “is the destroyer of the flock, and not its shepherd.”

Ambitious Faber, the old friend of Zuinglius, had returned full of zeal for the papacy from a visit which he had just paid to Rome. From the inspiration of this proud city the first troubles of Switzerland were to proceed. It was necessary that there should be a decisive struggle between evangelical truth and the representatives of the pontiff. It is especially when attacked that the truth manifests its whole power. Under the shade of opposition and persecution, Christianity at first acquired the power which overthrew her enemies. God was pleased, in like manner, to conduct his truth through difficult paths at the period of revival which we now describe. The priests then, as in the days of the apostles, assailed the new doctrine. But for their attacks it might, perhaps, have remained obscurely hid in some faithful souls. But God watched over it to manifest it to the world. Opposition struck out new paths for it, launched it on a new career, and fixed the eyes of the nation upon it. It was like a breath of wind scattering far and wide seeds which might otherwise have remained inert in the spots on which they fell. The tree destined to shelter the Helvetic population was indeed planted in the bosom of their valleys, but storms were necessary to strengthen the roots and give full development to the branches. The partisans of the papacy, seeing the fire which was slowly burning in Zurich, threw themselves upon it to extinguish it, and thereby only caused its flames to spread. On the afternoon of the 7th April, 1522, three ecclesiastic deputies from the Bishop of Constance were seen entering the town of Zurich. Two of them had a stern and angry, the third, a gentle expression of countenance. It was the coadjutor of the Bishop Melchior Battli, Doctor Brendi, and John Vanner, preacher of the cathedral, an evangelical man who, during the whole affair, remained silent. It was night when Luti called in haste on Zuinglius, and said, “Officers from the bishop have arrived; a great blow is preparing: all the partisans of ancient customs are in motion. A notary has called a meeting of all the priests at an early hour tomorrow morning, in the hall of the Chapter.” The assembly of the clergy having accordingly met next day, the coadjutor rose and delivered a speech, which seemed to his opponents full of violence and pride. He affected, however, not to mention Zuinglius by name. Some priests, who had been recently gained to the gospel, and were still irresolute, were terrified; their pale checks, their silence, and their sighs, showed that they had lost all courage.³ Zuinglius rose and delivered a speech, which closed the mouths of his adversaries. At Zurich, as in the other cantons, the most violent enemies of the new doctrine were in the Lesser Council. The deputation, defeated before the clergy, carried their complaints before the magistrates. Zuinglius was absent, and there was no reply to be dreaded. The result appeared decisive. The gospel and its defenders were on the point of being condemned without a hearing. Never was the Reformation of Switzerland in greater danger. It was going to be stifled in the cradle. The counsellors in favour of Zuinglius appealed to the Great Council. It was the only remaining plank for escape, and God employed it to save the cause of the gospel. The two hundred were convened. The partisans of the papacy used every mean to exclude Zuinglius, who, on the other hand, did all he could to gain admission. As he himself expresses it, he knocked at every door, and left not a stone unturned, but all in vain! “The thing is impossible,” said the burgomasters;” “the Council has decreed the contrary.” “Then,” relates Zuinglius, “I remained quiet, and with deep sighs carried the matter before Him who hears the groaning of the prisoner, supplicating him to defend His own gospel.”² The patient, resigned waiting of the servants of God is never disappointed. On the 9th April, the Two Hundred assembled. “We wish to have our pastors here,” immediately exclaimed the members who were in favour of the Reformation. The Lesser Council resisted, but the Great Council decided that the pastors should be present to hear the charge, and answer it, if they thought fit. The deputies from Constance were introduced, and then the three curates of Zurich, Zuinglius, Engelhard, and old Röschli.

After the parties thus brought face to face had for some time eyed each other, the coadjutor rose. “Had his heart and his head been equal to his voice,” says Zuinglius, “he would, in sweetness, have surpassed Apollo and Orpheus, and in force the Gracchi and Demosthenes.”

“The civil constitution,” said the champion of the papacy, “and Christianity itself, are threatened. Men have appeared teaching new, offensive and seditions doctrines.” Then, after speaking at great length, he fixed his eye on the assembled senate, and said, “Remain with the Church, remain in the Church. Out of it none can be saved. Ceremonies alone can bring the simple to the knowledge of salvation, and the pastors of the flocks have nothing else to do than to explain their meaning to the people.” As soon as the coadjutor had finished his speech, he and his party were preparing to leave the council-hall, when Zuinglius said to him, warmly, “Mr. Coadjutor, and you who accompany him, remain, I pray you, till I have defended myself.” The Coadjutor.—“We are not employed to dispute with any man whatever.”

Zuinglius.—“I mean not to dispute, but to explain to you, without fear, what I have taught up to this hour.”

Burgomaster Roust to the Deputies of Constance.—“I pray you listen to the curate’s reply.” The Coadjutor—“I too well know the man with whom I would have to do. Ulric Zuinglius is too violent for any man to dispute with!”

Zuinglius.—“When did it become the practice to attack an innocent man so strongly, and afterwards refuse to hear him? In the name of our common faith—in the name of the baptism which both of us have received—in the name of Christ, the author of salvation and life, listen to me. If you cannot as deputies, at least do it as Christians.”

After firing a volley into the air, Rome retired with hasty steps from the field of battle. The Reformer only asked to speak, and the agent of the papacy thought only of flight. A cause thus pleaded was already gained on the one side and lost on the other. The two hundred could not contain their indignation; a murmur burst forth in the assembly. The burgomaster again pressed the deputies. They felt ashamed, and silently resumed their seats. Then Zuinglius said:

“The Coadjutor speaks of seditious doctrines subversive of civil laws. Let him know that Zurich is quieter, and more obedient to the laws than any other town in Switzerland, and this all good citizens attribute to the gospel. Is not Christianity the most powerful safeguard of justice among a people? What are ceremonies good for, unless it be to sully the face of Christ and Christians?

⁴ Yes, there is another method than these vain observances to bring simple people to the knowledge of the truth—a method which Christ and the Apostles followed in the gospel itself! Have no dread of its not being comprehended by the people! Whoever believes comprehends. The people can believe, and therefore can comprehend. This is a work of the Divine Spirit, and not of human reason. For the rest, he who does not find forty days sufficient may, for me, if he likes, fast every day in the year! All I ask is, that nobody be compelled to do so, and that, for neglect of the minutest observance, the Zurichers be not accused of separating from the communion of Christians …”

“I did not say so,” exclaimed the Coadjutor. “No,” said his colleague, Dr. Brendi, “he did not say it.” But the whole senate confirmed the assertion of Zuinglius, who continued:

“Worthy citizens, let not this accusation move you! The foundation of the Church is that rock, that Christ, who gave Peter his name, because he confessed him faithfully. In every nation whosoever believeth with the heart in the Lord Jesus Christ is saved. This is the Church out of which no man can be saved. As to us ministers of Christ, to explain the gospel and follow it is the whole of our duty. Let those who live by ceremonies make it their business to explain them.” This was to touch the sore part. The Coadjutor blushed and said nothing. The two hundred adjourned, and afterwards, the same day, decided that the pope and cardinals should be requested to explain the controverted point, and that in the meantime flesh should not be eaten during Lent. This was to leave matters on the old footing, and answer the bishop in such a way as to gain time. This struggle had advanced the work of the Reformation. The champions of Rome and of the Reformation had been in presence of each other, and before the eyes of the whole community, and the advantage had not been on the side of the pope. This was the first engagement in what was to be a long and severe campaign, and to exhibit many alternations of grief and joy. But a first victory at the outset gives courage to the whole army, and fills the enemy with dismay. The Reformation had obtained possession of a territory of which it was not again to be deprived. If the Council deemed it necessary to proceed with some degree of caution, the people loudly proclaimed the defeat of Rome. “Never,” said they in the exultation of the moment, “never will they be able to reassemble their beaten and scattered troops.” “You,” said they to Zuinglius, “have with the spirit of St. Paul attacked these false apostles and their Ananias, their whited walls … The utmost the satellites of antichrist can now do is to gnash their teeth against you!” Voices were heard from the centre of Germany joyfully proclaiming “the glory of reviving theology.”² At the same time, however, the enemies of the gospel mustered their forces. If they were to strike there was no time to be lost, for it would soon be beyond the reach of their blows. Hoffman laid before the chapter a long accusation against the Reformer. “Were the curate even able,” said he, “to prove by witnesses what sins, what irregularities have been committed by ecclesiastics in such a convent, such a street, such a tavern, it would still be his duty not to give any names. Why does he give out (it is true I have scarcely ever heard him myself) that he alone draws his doctrine at the fountain-head, and that others search for it only in sinks and puddles? Is it not impossible, seeing the diversity of spirits, for all to preach the same thing?”

Zuinglius defended himself at a full meeting of the Chapter, scattering the accusations of his opponent “as a bull with his horns tosses straw into the air.” The affair which had appeared so serious ended in laughter at the canon’s expence. But Zuinglius did not stop here; on the 16th April, he published a treatise On the free use of food.