XXII.

THE REFORMATION IN GERMAN SWITZERLAND.

(1484-1531.)

The age of the Renaissance ushered in a century of intellectual revolution, and wrought remarkable changes in art, in science, in literature, in religion, and in every department of human life and energy. The space at our disposal will permit us to touch only on one of these developments, the religious. But the varying history of religious movement well-nigh fills up the sixteenth century. The revival of learning quickened the spirit of the Reformation, though most of the savants disapproved of the movement, as in the case of Erasmus and Glarean, a famous Swiss scholar. But whilst Luther's training was monastic rather than scholarly, and whilst he was, if anything, opposed to the New Learning, the great Swiss reformer was a scholar of the first order, who drew his profound and liberal ideas from his study of the classics. And it is a curious and noteworthy fact that with the spread of letters in Switzerland, there started up on its soil a host of men of parts[47] who, forming a school of disciples, as it were, espoused the cause of their great leader, Zwingli, and promoted it, each in his own canton. This is one peculiarity of the Swiss Reformation.

The degeneracy of the Church passed all belief, and was, as every one knows, the primary and chief cause of the Reformation on the Continent; but in Switzerland there was yet another cause, quite as important, which gave an impulse to the movement—the calamitous consequences of the mercenary wars, touched upon in previous chapters. Foreign pay had irresistible attractions for captain and man alike, and the country was constantly being drained of its stoutest arms and bravest hearts. It was difficult to over-estimate the baneful effects of this practice on the national welfare, and, of all the noble men who deplored these results, none felt it like Ulrich Zwingli. An enthusiastic scholar, a gifted preacher, a zealous patriot, and a remarkably able politician, he devoted his life to the work of rescuing his people and country from their moral decline. This he proposed to effect by the working of the Divine Word. Luther left the knotty skein of politics to his princely friends to unravel, but Zwingli, on the contrary, shrank from no political difficulties, encumbrances, or complications. To his clear and far-seeing mind social and political reform was inseparably bound up with religious change and progress. The one would be of but little avail without the other, and the great object of his life became the total regeneration of the commonwealth—church and state both.

ULRICH ZWINGLI.
(After Asper.)

Ulrich Zwingli was born at Wildhaus, among the song-loving Toggenburger, in the canton of St. Gall, January 1, 1484. The talented youth was destined for the Church by his father, a highly-respected magistrate, and was sent to school at Basel, and afterwards studied at Bern. Here sprang up his enthusiasm for classical studies under the famous Lupulus, whilst the friars were so struck with his musical talents that they tried hard to keep him in the cloisters. However, in 1500 he left for the University of Vienna, and two years later we find him established as Latin teacher at Basel and a student of the university there. Steeped in the New Learning his attention was now drawn to scriptural studies by the enlightened Wittenbach. At Basel, too, he formed a friendship with the famed Erasmus. Obtaining the degree of magister philosophiæ, in 1506, he was nominated pastor at Glarus, and with regret tore himself away from that seat of learning. During his ten years' ministry at Glarus (a Landsgemeinde canton) his natural taste and talent for politics were brought into play. And though he founded a Latin school for clever youths, and pursued his own studies vigorously, and kept up a vast correspondence with Erasmus, Glarean, and other noted scholars, he was no mere pedant or bookworm, but took a profound interest in the political life of that stirring age. Twice he accompanied the men of Glarus on their Italian expedition as field chaplain, but though he naturally rejoiced at the glory their arms acquired, yet his eyes became fully opened to the disastrous results of the mercenary wars. His direct and unsparing attacks on the Reislaufen and foreign pension system roused such a storm against him that he was forced to take refuge at Einsiedeln, 1516. His two years' quiet retreat in the famous abbey afforded him a glimpse of the flagrant abuses rife in the Church. At first he appealed to the dignitaries of the Church to remedy the evils, but at length, driven no doubt by the sight of the superstitions around him, he introduced those sweeping measures of reform which did away with every vestige of Romanism that remained in the evangelical church. Preaching to the thousands who flocked to the wonder-working image of the Virgin, his sermons, full of force, novelty, and pithy eloquence, rapidly spread abroad his fame. He became friendly with other scholars and religious reformers. Rome made him tempting offers with the view of drawing him away from Switzerland and his life-work, but resisting all her persuasion, he accepted a call to Zurich, as plebanus at the Minster, December, 1518. Zurich was the foremost town of the Confederation, but was justly reputed a dissolute city, not unlike the then Geneva. Its enlightened Council saw in Zwingli a spirited leader.

His opening sermon, on New Year's Day, 1519, stirred his hearers in a marvellous way, and at once stamped him as an evangelical reformer of no common type. He briefly sketched out the plan by which he proposed to be guided in his future sermons. His subjects would be drawn from the Bible only,[48] especially from the New Testament, and he would follow the guidance of the Holy Spirit, and not human direction. So profound was the impression made by his impassioned and eloquent words that some of the listeners declared him to be a "new Moses who had arisen to save his people from spiritual bondage." The learned Platter writes that during the sermon he "felt himself lifted off the ground by his hair." The very first year of Zwingli's ministry at Zurich, two thousand souls were "saved by the milk of the Holy Gospel." And his practical goodness of heart was attested by his assiduous attention to the sick during the plague of 1519, in which he was himself stricken and brought very near to death. Three hymns composed during this trying time reveal his entire resignation and calm trust in God. Although he fiercely opposed the sale of indulgences there were no thunderings against him from the Vatican, such as were hurled against Luther.[49] The Eidgenossen, being useful to the Papal See, was rather indulged; it was even intimated to the Diet that they should send back from Bern Friar Bernhard Samson, who was preaching with great effect there, should he prove obnoxious. With unflagging zeal and courage Zwingli followed his ideal in politics, viz., to rear a republic on the type of the Greek free states of old, with perfect national independence. Thanks to his influence Zurich in 1521 abolished Reislaufen, and the system of foreign pay. This step, however, brought down on the head of Zurich the wrath of the twelve sister republics, which had just signed a military contract with Francis I. Zwingli addressed to Schwyz a "Holy Exhortation" to serve neither Pope nor Emperor; his exhortation, however, served only to increase the number of his political foes.[50] Relying rather on reason than on force, he prepared the way for his reforms with singular moderation and forbearance.

It was only in 1522 that he began to launch pamphlets against the abuses in the Church-fasting, celibacy of the clergy, and the like. On the 29th of January, 1523, Zwingli obtained from the Council of Zurich the opening of a public religious discussion in presence of the whole of the clergy of the canton, and representatives of the Bishop of Constance, whose assistance in the debate the Council had invited. In sixty-seven theses remarkable for their penetration and clearness he sketched out his confession of faith and plan of reform, and utterly confounded all objections of his opponents by showing the conformity of his theses with the Holy Scriptures. On the 25th of October, 1523, a second discussion initiated the practical consequences of the reformed doctrine—the abrogation of the mass and image worship. Zwingli's system was virtually that of Calvin, but was conceived in a broader spirit, and carried out later on in a far milder manner by Bullinger. To enter into a full comparison of the two systems would, however, be out of place here. The Council gave the fullest approval to the Reformation.

In 1524 Zwingli married Anne Reinhard, the widow of a Zurich nobleman (Meyer von Knonau), and so discarded the practice of celibacy obtaining amongst priests. She made him an excellent wife and help-mate, and bore him four children. The reformer's skill in music was often brought to bear on his children when they were inclined to be unruly; he would soothe them into peace and quietness by his performances on the lute or other instrument. To his stepson Gerald Meyer he was an excellent father. Tall, with grave but winning features, with a kind and generous heart and winning manner, Zwingli's personality was most fascinating. A scholar but no pedant, a plain but vigorous speaker, of sound and practical judgment, with vast stores of learning, and an unusual elevation of mind, he was also broadminded and compassionate. It may be mentioned that he provided on Ufenau Island in Zurich lake a last asylum for Ulrich von Hutten, who had been rejected by Erasmus and driven from Germany.

In 1524 Zwingli began to effect the most sweeping changes with the view of overthrowing the whole fabric of mediæval superstition. In the direction of reform he went far beyond Luther, who had retained oral confession, altar pictures, &c. The introduction of his reforms in Zurich called forth but little opposition. True, there were the risings of the Anabaptists but these were the same everywhere, and the revolt of the peasants was a general feature of the time.[51] Pictures and images were removed from the churches, under government direction, and nothing was left to distract men's attention, for Zwingli aimed at the re-establishment of the primitive Christianity in its pure, simple, and biblical form. The Holy Scriptures, expounded by the elect ministers of God, were to be men's highest guide and support. At the Landgemeinden,[52] called for the purpose, the people gave an enthusiastic assent to his doctrines, and declared themselves ready "to die for the gospel truth." Thus a national Church was established, severed from the diocese of Constance, and placed under the control of the Council of Zurich and a clerical synod. The convents were turned into schools, hospitals, and poor-houses. The famous Chorherrenstift, founded by the Carolingians, was turned into a University College, continuing to be called the Carolinum. This lasted till 1832, when it was formed into the University and Gymnasium of our own days. Zwingli was elected rector, and lectured on theology. He was also devoted to the study of Greek, and on New Year's Day, 1531, had a splendid performance of one of the plays of Aristophanes, for which he himself wrote the accompanying music, grave statesmen joining the professors and students in the representation. Zwingli was now, indeed, the idol of the people, and wielded the sceptre in his little state. Under him Zurich became a centre of learning and religious enlightenment, and its influence spread over other Swiss lands, South Germany and elsewhere.

The reformed faith penetrated, but only gradually, into the northern and eastern cantons. Bern was reached in 1528, after a brilliant disputation held in that city. Basel and Schaffhausen followed in 1529, and then St. Gall, Appenzell, Graubünden, and Solothurn, though some of them had serious struggles within themselves and fell in only partly with the reforms. But in the Central or Forest Cantons it was that the fiercest opposition was encountered. Many things combined to produce this result. In the first place, the district was a very stronghold of Catholic and Conservative feeling, and religion was entwined with the fond memories of a glorious past. From the very simplicity of their lives the people ignored the degeneracy of the priesthood, and amongst these pastoral peoples the priests were of simpler manners and more moral life than those in the cities; they disliked learning and enlightenment.

Then there was the old feeling of antipathy to the cities, coupled with a strong dislike for the reforms which had abolished Reislaufen, that standing source of income to the cantons. Lucerne, bought with French gold, struggled with Zurich for the lead. So far was the opposition carried that the Catholic districts by a majority of votes insisted (at the Diet) on a measure for suppressing heresy in Zurich, whilst some were for expelling that canton from the league. The Forest Cantons issued orders that Zwingli should be seized should he be found within their territories; consequently he kept away from the great convocation at Baden, 1526. Serious collisions arose, but it is impossible to dwell on them here.

Wider and wider grew the chasm between the two religious parties, and Zwingli at length formed a "Christian League" between the Swiss Protestants and some of the German cities and the Elector of Hesse. On the other hand, the Catholics entered into an alliance with Ferdinand of Austria, a determined enemy to the reformed religion. At last the Protestant party was exasperated beyond bearing, and Zurich declared war on the Forest Cantons, Zwingli himself joining in the vicissitudes of the campaign. His camp presented the "picture of a well-organized, God-fearing army of a truly Puritan stamp." The encounter at Kappel, in June, 1529, however, took a peaceful turn, thanks to the mediation of Landammann Aebli, of Glarus, greatly to the disgust of Zwingli, who prophetically exclaimed that some day the Catholics would be the stronger party, and then they would not show so much moderation. All ill-feeling, indeed, subsided when the two armies came within sight of each other. The curious and touching episode known as the Kappeler Milchsuppe took place here. A band of jolly Catholics had got hold of a large bowl of milk, but lacking bread they placed it on the boundary line between Zug and Zurich. At once a group of Zurich men turned up with some loaves, and presently the whole party fell to eating the Milchsuppe right merrily. A peace was concluded on the 29th of June, 1529, by which the Austrian League was dissolved, and freedom of worship granted to all.

Zwingli's closing years were devoted to vast schemes of European policy. With the view of forming a strong alliance of the Swiss Protestants with foreign powers favouring the reformed faith, and in opposition to the emperor Charles V., he entered into negotiations with France, with some of the German states, with the Venetian republic, and others. His plans were too bold and sweeping to be practical, and came to nought. His relations with Luther claim special attention, however. By his treatise, "De verâ et falsâ religione" (1525), Zwingli had, though unwillingly, thrown the gauntlet into the Wittenberg camp. The work was intended to be a scientific refutation of the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation, and a war of words arose. The contest was by each disputant carried on suo more by Luther with his usual authoritative and tempestuous vehemence, by Zwingli in his own cool reasoning, dignified, and courteous style and republican frankness. Presently there came a strong desire for a union between the German Protestants, and the Swiss Reformers—the two were thus distinguished—the impulse to it being given by Charles V.'s "Protest" against the Protestants. Landgrave Philip of Hesse, the political leader of the German reformers, invited Luther and Zwingli to meet at his castle of Marburg, with the view of reconciling the two sections. The religious colloquium was attended by many savants, princes, nobles, and all the chief leaders of the Reformation, and might have done great things, but came to grief through the obstinacy of Luther, as is well known, or rather through his determination to approve of no man's views except they should agree exactly with his own. Luther insisted on a literal interpretation of the words "This is my body," whilst Zwingli saw in them only a metaphorical or symbolical signification. Zwingli's logic and cool, clear reasoning were acknowledged to be superior to those of his opponent, but Luther demanded complete submission. The conference, in short, resulted in nothing, and nearly ended in an open rupture between the two leaders. Zwingli extended his hand in token of friendship and goodwill, but Luther refused it. The truth was the two men looked at the matter from quite different points of view. With Luther religion was almost wholly a thing of a mystic basis, a creed of the heart—of feeling—whilst Zwingli, required his reason to be satisfied. The one wrestled in agony of soul with the spirits of darkness; the other looked to the Divine, all-embracing love under which all creation rests in trust and happiness, and under which all men are brothers, children of one all-kind Father.

To return for a moment to home politics. The peace of 1529 was a short-lived one. Zwingli anxious only to spread the reformed faith over the whole republic did not realize clearly the hatred of the Forest district against the new creed. Then there were faults on both sides—the Zwinglian party and the Waldstätten—but the history of them is too long and too trifling to be given here. Not the least of the mistakes, however, was made by Zwingli himself, in claiming well-nigh absolute power for the two chief reformed cities, Zurich and Bern. Again, the refusal of the Waldstätten to assist Graubünden against an Italian invasion was looked upon with grave suspicion, and caused much ill-feeling against them. War was imminent, and was indeed eagerly desired on both sides. Bern, finding that war was likely to be injurious to her private ends insisted on a stoppage of mercantile traffic between the opposing districts,[53] but Zwingli scorned to use such a means to hunger the enemy and so bring them to submit. However Zurich was outvoted in the Christian League (May 16th), and the Forest was excluded from the markets of that city and Bern. The rest may be easily guessed. On Zurich was turned all the fury of the famished Forest men, and they sent a challenge in October, 1531. A second time the hostile armies met at Kappel, but the positions were reversed. Zurich was unprepared to meet a foe four times as numerous as her own, and Bern hesitated to come to her aid. However Göldlin, the captain of the little force, recklessly engaged with the opposing army, whether from treachery or incapacity is not known, but he was certainly opposed to the reformed faith. Zwingli had taken leave of his friend Bullinger, as though foreseeing his own death in the coming struggle, and had joined the Zurich force. He was with the chief banner, and, with some five hundred of his overmatched comrades, fell in the thickest of the battle. Amongst the slain were most of the foremost men of the city, councillors, clergy, Zwingli's friends and relations. Amongst these last was his beloved stepson who had been fighting by his side. A canon of Zug, seeing Zwingli's body, burst into tears, crying, "Whatever thy faith, I know thou hast been a brave Eidgenosse." According to the barbarous custom of the time the body was quartered, then burnt, and scattered to the winds. And the terrible disaster which befell Zurich was followed soon after by another.

But the reformation was far too deeply rooted to be thus destroyed. Bullinger, the friend of Zwingli, and, later on, of Calvin, worthily succeeded to the headship of the Zurich reformers. Keeping clear of politics, for which he had no propensity, he concentrated his attention on the perfecting of the Zwinglian ecclesiastical system; working for strict morality without narrowness of mind, for national independence, for inquiring after light and truth, and for true piety combined with benevolence and charity. Zwingli had made mistakes of policy, but his devotion to his cause, his self-abnegation, and his tragic death, made full reparation for them.

At Solothurn Catholicism again got the upper hand, and the reformers had to leave. Intestine feuds were breaking out, and indeed the first shot had actually been fired, when the noble-minded Schultheiss, Nicolas von Wengi, a Catholic, threw himself before the mouth of a cannon, and exclaimed, "If the blood of the burghers is to be spent, let mine be the first!" Wengi's party at once desisted from the attack, and matters were settled amicably.