A great man of this age, Erasmus, had much influence on Zuinglius, who, as soon as any of his writings appeared, lost no time in procuring it. In 1514, Erasmus had arrived at Bâle, and been received by the bishop with marks of high esteem. All the friends of letters had immediately grouped around him. But the monarch of the schools had no difficulty in singling out him who was to be the glory of Switzerland. "I congratulate the Swiss nation," wrote he to Zuinglius, "that by your studies and your manners, both alike excellent, you labour to polish and elevate them."[644] Zuinglius had a most ardent desire to see him. "Spaniards and Gauls went to Rome to see Titus Livy," said he. He set out, and on arriving at Bâle, found a personage of about forty years of age, of small stature, a frail body, a delicate look, but a remarkably amiable and winning address.[645] It was Erasmus. His affability removed the timidity of Zuinglius, while the power of his intellect overawed him. "Poor," said Ulric to him, "as Eschines, when each of the scholars of Socrates offered a present to his master, I give you what Eschines gave—I give you myself."
OSWALD MYCONIUS.
Among the literary men who formed the court of Erasmus, the Amerbachs, the Rhenans, the Frobeniuses, the Nessens, the Glareans, Zuinglius observed a youth from Lucerne, of twenty-seven years of age, named Oswald Geisshüsler. Erasmus hellenising his name, had called him Myconius. We will often designate him by his surname, to distinguish the friend of Zuinglius from Frederick Myconius, the disciple of Luther. Oswald, after studying first at Rothwyl with Berthold Haller, a young man of his own age, next at Berne, and lastly at Bâle, had in this last town been appointed rector of the school of St. Theodoret, and afterwards of that of St. Peter. The humble schoolmaster had a very limited income; but, notwithstanding, had married a young girl of a simplicity and purity of soul which won all hearts. We have already seen that Switzerland was then in a troubled state, foreign wars having stirred up violent disorders, and the soldiers having brought back to their country licentiousness and brutality. One dark and cloudy winter day, some of these rude men, in Oswald's absence, attacked his quiet dwelling. They knocked at the door, threw stones, and applied the grossest expressions to his modest spouse. At last they burst open the windows, and having forced their way into the school and broken every thing to pieces, made off. Oswald arrived shortly after. His little boy, Felix, ran out to meet him crying, while his wife, unable to speak, showed signs of the greatest terror. He understood what had happened, and at that moment, hearing a noise in the street, unable to restrain himself, he seized a musket, and pursued the villains as far as the burying ground. They retreated, intending to defend themselves. Three of them rushed upon Myconius and wounded him, and, while his wound was being dressed, these wretches again attacked his house, uttering cries of fury. Oswald says no more of the matter.[646] Such scenes frequently occurred in Switzerland at the beginning of the sixteenth century, before the Reformation had softened and disciplined manners.
The integrity of Oswald Myconius, his thirst for science and virtue, brought him into connection with Zuinglius. The rector of the school of Bâle was alive to all that was grand in the curate of Glaris. Full of humility, he shunned the praises bestowed upon him by Zuinglius and Erasmus. "You schoolmasters," often said the latter, "I esteem as highly as I do kings." But the modest Myconius did not think so. "I only crawl along the ground," said he. "From infancy I had always a feeling of littleness and humility."[647]
ŒCOLAMPADIUS.
A preacher who had arrived at Bâle about the same time as Zuinglius was attracting attention. Of a mild and pacific disposition, he led a tranquil life; slow and circumspect in conduct, his chief pleasure was to labour in his study, and produce concord among Christians.[648] He was named John Hausschein, in Greek Œcolampadius, that is, "light of the house," and was born of wealthy parents in Franconia, a year before Zuinglius. His pious mother longed to consecrate to literature and to God the only child whom He had left her. The father intended him first for a mercantile life, then for law. But as Œcolampadius was returning from Bologna, where he had been studying law, the Lord, who designed to make him a lamp in the Church,[649] called him to the study of theology. He was preaching in his native town when Capito, who had known him at Heidelberg, procured his appointment as preacher at Bâle. There he proclaimed Christ with an eloquence which filled his hearers with admiration.[650] Erasmus admitted him to his intimacy. Œcolampadius was enraptured with the hours which he spent in the society of this great genius. "In the Holy Scriptures," said the prince of literature, "one thing only ought to be sought, viz., Jesus Christ."[651] As a memento of his friendship he gave the young preacher the commencement of John's Gospel. Œcolampadius often kissed this precious pledge of affection, and kept it suspended to his crucifix, "in order," said he, "that I may always remember Erasmus in my prayers."
Zuinglius returned to his mountains, his mind and heart full of all that he had seen and heard at Bâle. "I could not sleep," wrote he to Erasmus, shortly after his return, "if I had not conversed for some time with you. There is nothing of which I boast so much as of having seen Erasmus." Zuinglius had received a new impulse. Such journeys often exercise a great influence over the career of the Christian. The disciples of Zuinglius—Valentin, Jost, Louis, Peter, and Ægidius Tschudi; his friends, the landăman Æbli, the curate, Binzli of Wesen, Fridolin Brunnen, and the celebrated professor Glarean, saw with admiration how he grew in wisdom and knowledge. The old honoured him as a courageous servant of his country, and faithful pastors honoured him as a faithful servant of the Lord. Nothing was done in the district without taking his advice. All the good hoped that he would one day restore the ancient virtue of the Swiss.[652]
ZUINGLIUS AT MARIGNAN.
Francis I, having mounted the throne, and being desirous to vindicate the honour of the French name in Italy, the pope in alarm laboured to gain the cantons. Accordingly, in 1515, Ulric revisited the plains of Italy amid the phalanxes of his fellow-citizens. But the division which French intrigues produced in the army stung him to the heart. He was often seen in the middle of the camp energetically, and at the same time wisely, haranguing his hearers in full armour ready for battle.[653] On the 8th September, five days before the battle of Marignan, he preached in the public square of Monza, where the Swiss soldiers, who remained true to their colours, had reassembled. "Had the counsels of Zuinglius been followed then and afterwards," says Werner Steiner of Zug, "what evils would not our country have been saved!"[654] But all ears were shut to words of concord, prudence, and submission. The vehement eloquence of Cardinal Schinner electrified the confederates, and hurried them impetuously to the fatal field of Marignan. There fell the flower of the Helvetic youth. Zuinglius, who had been unable to prevent all these disasters, threw himself, for the cause of Rome, into the midst of danger. His hand seized the sword. Sad error of Zuinglius! A minister of Christ, he more than once forgot that it was his duty to fight only with spiritual weapons, and he was to see in his own person a striking fulfilment of our Saviour's prophecy, He who takes the sword shall perish by the sword.
Zuinglius and his Swiss had been unable to save Rome. The ambassador of Venice was the first in the pontifical city who received news of the defeat of Marignan. Delighted, he repaired at an early hour to the Vatican. The pope came out of his apartment half dressed to give him an audience. Leo X, on learning the news, did not disguise his terror. At this moment of alarm he saw only Francis I, and hoped only in him. "Ambassador," said he trembling to Zorsi, "we must throw ourselves into the arms of the king, and cry for mercy." Luther and Zuinglius in their danger knew another arm, and invoked another mercy.[655]