Schinner's eye was continually turned to the cantons of Switzerland, and as soon as he there discerned any man of influence he hastened to attach him to himself. The pastor of Glaris drew his attention, and Zuinglius soon received intimation that the pope had granted him an annual pension of fifty florins, to encourage him in the cultivation of letters. His poverty did not allow him to purchase books; and the money during the short time that Ulric received it was devoted to the purchase of classical or theological works, which he procured from Bâle.[626] Zuinglius was now connected with the cardinal, and accordingly joined the Roman party. Schinner and Julius II at last disclosed the end which they had in view in these intrigues. Eight thousand Swiss mustered by the eloquence of the cardinal-archbishop, passed the Alps; but famine, war, and French gold obliged them to return to their mountains without glory. They brought back the usual results of these foreign wars,—distrust, licentiousness, party spirit, all sorts of violence and disorder. Citizens refused to obey their magistrates, and children their parents; agriculture and the care of their flocks were neglected; luxury and mendicity kept pace with each other; the most sacred ties were broken, and the confederation seemed on the point of being dissolved.

The eyes of the young curate of Glaris were now opened, and his indignation aroused. He raised his voice aloud to warn them of the abyss into which they were about to fall. In 1510 he published his poem entitled "The Labyrinth." Behind the windings of this mysterious garden, Minos has hidden the Minotaur, that monster, half man half bull, whom he feeds on the flesh of young Athenians. "The Minotaur, ... in other words," says Zuinglius, "sin, vice, irreligion, and the foreign service of the Swiss," devour the sons of his countrymen.

Theseus, a man of courage, wishes to deliver his country, but numerous obstacles arrest him;—first, a lion with one eye; this is Spain and Arragon;—then a crowned eagle, whose throat is opened to devour it; this is the empire;—then a cock, with his comb up, and calling for battle; this is France. The hero surmounts all these obstacles, gets up to the monster, stabs it, and saves his country.

"So now," exclaims the poet, "men wander in a labyrinth, but having no thread to guide them they cannot regain the light. No where is there any imitation of Jesus Christ. A little glory makes us hazard our life, torment our neighbour, rush into strife, war, and combat.... One would say that the furies have escaped from the depths of hell."[627]

A Theseus, a Reformer was required. Zuinglius perceived this, and thenceforth had a presentiment of his mission. Not long after he composed an allegory with a still clearer application.[628]

ZUINGLIUS IN ITALY.

In April, 1512, the confederates rose anew at the bidding of the cardinal, for the deliverance of the Church. Glaris was in the foremost rank. The whole population was brought into the field, ranged round their banner with their landaman and their pastor. Zuinglius behoved to march. The army passed the Alps, and the cardinal appeared amidst the confederates with the presents given him by the pope,—a ducal hat adorned with pearls and gold, and surmounted by the Holy Spirit, represented under the form of a dove. The Swiss escaladed the fortresses and towns, swam rivers in the presence of the enemy, unclothed, and with halberds in their hands; the French were every where put to flight; bells and trumpets resounded, and the population flocked from all quarters; the nobles supplied the army with wine and fruits in abundance; the monks and priests mounted on platforms, and proclaimed, that the confederates were the people of God taking vengeance on the enemies of the Lord's spouse; and the pope becoming prophet, like Caiaphas of old, gave the confederates the title of "Defenders of the liberty of the Church."[629]

This sojourn of Zuinglius in Italy was not without its effect, in reference to his vocation of Reformer. On his return from this campaign, he began to study Greek, "in order," says he, "to be able to draw the doctrine of Jesus Christ from the very fountain of truth."[630] Writing to Vadian, 23rd February, 1513, he says, "I have resolved so to apply myself to the study of Greek, that none will be able to turn me from it but God. I do it not for fame, but from love to sacred literature." At a later period, a worthy priest, who had been his school companion, having come to pay him a visit, said to him, "Master Ulric, I am assured that you are tainted with the new heresy, that you are a Lutheran." "I am not a Lutheran," said Zuinglius, "for I knew Greek before I heard of the name of Luther."[631] To know Greek, to study the gospel in the original tongue, was, according to Zuinglius, the basis of the Reformation.

Zuinglius did more than recognise, at this early period, the great principle of evangelical Christianity—the infallible authority of the Holy Scriptures. Besides this, he understood how the meaning of the divine Word ought to be ascertained. "Those," said he, "have a very grovelling idea of the Scriptures who regard whatever seems to them at variance with their own reason as frivolous, vain, and unjust.[632] Men have no right to bind the gospel at pleasure to their own sense, and their own interpretation."[633] "Zuinglius raised his eye to heaven," said his dearest friend, "unwilling to have any other interpreter than the Holy Spirit himself."[634]

ZUINGLIUS AND LUTHER. ZUINGLIUS AND ERASMUS.