At the same time a movement in opposition to the Reform was taking place in that high and savage valley, where the Linth, roaring at the foot of vast rocks with jagged crests—enormous citadels which seemed built in the air,—bathes the villages of Schwanden and Ruti with its waters. The Roman-catholics, alarmed at the progress of the Gospel, and wishing to save these mountains at least, had scattered with liberal hands the money they derived from their foreign pensions; and from that time violent hatred had been seen to divide old friends, and men who appeared to have been won over to the Gospel basely sought for a pretext to conceal a disgraceful flight.[1081] "Peter[1082] and I," wrote Rasdorfer, pastor of Ruti, in despair, "are labouring in the vineyard, but, alas! the grapes we gather are not employed for the sacrifice, and the very birds do not eat them. We fish, but after having toiled all night, we find that we have only caught leeches.[1083] Alas! we are casting pearls before dogs, and roses before swine!" This spirit of revolt against the Gospel soon descended from these valleys with the noisy waters of the Linth as far as Glaris and Mollis. "The council, as if it had been composed only of silly women, shifted its sails every day," said Rasdorfer;[1084] "one day it will have the cowl, on the next it will not."[1085] Glaris, like a leaf carried along by one of its torrents, and which the waves and eddies drive in different directions, wavered, wheeled about, and was nearly being swallowed up.
But this crisis came to an end: the Gospel suddenly regained strength, and on Easter Monday 1530, a general assembly of the people "put the Mass and the altars to the vote." A powerful party that relied upon the Five Cantons vainly opposed the Reform. It was proclaimed, and its vanquished and disconcerted enemies were forced to content themselves, says Bullinger, with mysteriously concealing a few idols, which they reserved for better days.
In the meanwhile, the Reform advanced in the exterior Rhodes of Appenzell,[1086] and in the district of Sargans. But what most exasperated the cantons that remained faithful to the Romish doctrines, was to see it pass the Alps and appear in Italy, in those beautiful districts round Lake Maggiore, where, near the embouchure of the Maggia, within the walls of Locarno, in the midst of laurels, pomegranates, and cypresses, flourished the noble families of Orelli, Muralto, Magoria, and Duni, and where floated since 1512 the sovereign standard of the cantons. "What!" said the Waldstettes, "is it not enough that Zurich and Zwingle infest Switzerland! They have the impudence to carry their pretended Reform even into Italy,—even into the country of the Pope!"
THE MONK OF COMO.
Great irregularities prevailed there among the clergy: "Whoever wishes to be damned must become a priest," was a common saying.[1087] But the Gospel succeeded in making its way even into that district. A monk of Como, Egidio à Porta, who had taken the cowl in 1511, against the wishes of his family,[1088] struggled for years in the Augustine convent, and nowhere found peace for his soul. Motionless, environed, as it appeared to him, with profound night, he cried aloud: "Lord, what wilt thou that I should do?" Erelong the monk of Como thought he heard these words in his heart: "Go to Ulric Zwingle and he will tell thee." He rose trembling with emotion. "It is you," wrote he to Zwingle immediately, "but no! it is not you, it is God who, through you, will deliver me from the nets of the hunters." "Translate the New Testament into Italian," replied Zwingle; "I will undertake to get it printed at Zurich." This is what Reform did for Italy more than three centuries ago.
Egidio therefore remained. He commenced translating the Gospel; but at one time he had to beg for the convent, at another to repeat his "hours," and then to accompany one of the fathers on his journeys.[1089] Everything that surrounded him increased his distress. He saw his country reduced to the greatest misery by desolating wars,—men formerly rich, holding out their hands for alms,—crowds of women driven by want to the most shameful degradation. He imagined that a great political deliverance could alone bring about the religious independence of his fellow-countrymen.
THE MONK OF LOCARNO.
On a sudden he thought that this happy hour was arrived. He perceived a band of Lutheran lansquenets descending the Alps. Their serried phalanxes, their threatening looks were directed towards the banks of the Tiber. At their head marched Freundsberg, wearing a chain of gold around his neck, and saying: "If I reach Rome I will make use of it to hang the Pope." "God wills to save us," wrote Egidio to Zwingle: "write to the constable;[1090] entreat him to deliver the people over whom he rules,—to take from the shaven crowns, whose God is their belly, the wealth which renders them so proud,—and to distribute it among the people who are dying of hunger. Then let each one preach without fear the pure Word of the Lord.—The strength of Antichrist is near its fall!"
Thus, about the end of 1526, Egidio already dreamt of the Reformation of Italy. From that time his letters cease: the monk disappeared. There can be no doubt that the arm of Rome was able to reach him, and that, like so many others, he was plunged into the gloomy dungeon of some convent.
LETTER TO THE GERMAN CHURCH.