On Saturday, being new-year's-day, and also the birthday of Zuinglius, who had completed his thirty-fifth year, he mounted the pulpit of the cathedral. A great crowd, eager to see a man who had already acquired so much celebrity, and to hear this new gospel, of which every one began to speak, filled the church. "It is to Christ," said Zuinglius, "that I wish to conduct you; to Christ, the true source of salvation. His divine word is the only nourishment which I would give to your heart and life." Then he announced that to-morrow, the first Sunday of the year, he would begin to expound the gospel according to St. Matthew. Accordingly, the preacher, and a still larger audience than the day before, were at their posts. Zuinglius opened the gospel—the gospel which had so long been a sealed book—and read the first page, going over the history of the patriarchs and prophets mentioned in the first chapter of St. Matthew, and expounding it in such a way that all were astonished and delighted, and exclaimed, "We never heard anything like this."[705]
THEIR EFFECTS.
He continued thus to expound St. Matthew, according to the original Greek. He showed how the whole Bible found at once its exposition and its application in the very nature of man. Delivering the loftiest truths of the gospel in simple language, his preaching reached all classes, the learned and the wise, as well as the ignorant and simple.[706] He extolled the infinite mercies of God the Father, and implored all his hearers to put their confidence in Jesus Christ alone as the only Saviour.[707] At the same time, he earnestly called them to repentance; forcibly attacked the errors which prevailed among the people; fearlessly rebuked luxury, intemperance, extravagance in dress, the oppression of the poor, idleness, foreign service, and foreign pensions. "In the pulpit," says one of his companions, "he spared no one, pope, emperor, kings, dukes, princes, lords, not even the confederates. All his energy, and all the joy of his heart were in God: accordingly he exhorted all the inhabitants of Zurich to put their confidence in Him only."[708] "Never was man heard to speak with so much authority," says Oswald Myconius, who with joy and high hopes watched the labours of his friend.
The gospel could not be preached in vain in Zurich. A continually increasing multitude of men of all classes, and more especially of the common people, flocked to hear him.[709] Several Zurichers had ceased to attend on public worship. "I derive no benefit from the discourses of these priests," often exclaimed Füsslin, a poet, historian, and counsellor of state; "they do not preach the things of salvation; for they do not comprehend them. I see nothing in them but covetousness and voluptuousness." Henry Räuschlin, treasurer of state, one who diligently read the Scriptures, was of the same opinion: "The priests," said he, "met in thousands at the Council of Constance ... to burn the best man among them." These distinguished men, led by curiosity, went to hear Zuinglius' first sermon. Their countenances bespoke the emotion with which they followed the orator. "Glory to God!" said they, on coming out; "this is a preacher of the truth. He will be our Moses to deliver us from Egyptian darkness."[710] From this moment they became the Reformer's intimate friends. "Powers of the world," said Füsslin, "cease to proscribe the doctrine of Christ! After Christ the Son of God was put to death, sinners were raised up. And now, should you destroy the preachers of truth, you will see their places supplied by glaziers, carpenters, potters, founders, shoemakers, and tailors, who will teach with power."[711]
OPPOSITION.
In Zurich, at the outset, there was only one shout of admiration, but when the first moment of enthusiasm was over, the adversary resumed courage. Worthy persons alarmed at the idea of a Reformation, gradually drew off from Zuinglius. The violence of the monks which had been veiled for an instant, reappeared, and the college of canons resounded with complaints. Zuinglius stood immovable. His friends beholding his courage, felt in his presence as if a man of apostolic times had reappeared.[712] Among his enemies, some scoffed and jeered; others uttered insulting menaces, but he endured all with Christian patience.[713] "Whoso," he was wont to say, "would gain the wicked to Jesus Christ must wink at many things,"[714]—an admirable saying which ought not to be lost sight of.
His character and general bearing towards all contributed as much as his discourses to win their hearts. He was at once a true Christian and a true republican. The equality of mankind was not with him a mere watchword; it was written on his heart and manifested in his life. He had neither that pharisaical pride, nor that monastic gruffness, which are equally offensive to the simple and the wise of the world. Men were drawn towards him, and felt at ease when conversing with him. Strong and mighty in the pulpit, he was affable to all whom he met in the streets, or in the public squares. At the places where the merchants or incorporations met he was often seen among the citizens expounding the leading points of Christian doctrine, or conversing familiarly with them. He gave the same cordial reception to peasant and patrician. "He invited country folks to dine with him," says one of his bitterest enemies, "walked with them, spoke to them of God, made the devil enter into their hearts and his writings into their pockets. He even went so far that the leading persons in Zurich visited those peasants, entertained them, and walked over the town with them, showing them all sorts of attention."[715]
TASTE FOR MUSIC. STUDIOUS HABITS.
He continued to cultivate music "with moderation," says Bullinger: nevertheless the enemies of the gospel took advantage of it, and called him "The evangelical flute and lute player."[716] Faber having one day reproached him with his fondness for music, Zuinglius, with noble candour, replied, "My dear Faber, you know not what music is. I have, it is true, learned to play on the lute, the violin, and other instruments, and am able by these means to pacify little children;[717] but you of course are too holy for music. Do you not know that David was a skilful player on the harp, and in this way drove the evil spirit out of Saul? ... Ah! if you knew the sound of the heavenly lute, the evil spirit of ambition and avarice by which you are possessed would come out of you also." Perhaps this was Zuinglius' foible, though it was in a spirit of cheerfulness and Christian liberty that he cultivated this art, which religion has always associated with her sublimest flights. He set some of his Christian poems to music, and did not scruple sometimes to amuse the youngest of his flock with his lute. He showed the same good nature to the poor. "He ate and drank," says one of his contemporaries, "with all who invited him,—he despised no one; he was most compassionate to the poor; always firm and always joyful in bad as in good fortune. No evil made him afraid; his words were at all times full of energy, and his heart full of consolation."[718] Thus Zuinglius increased in popularity—after the example of his Master, seated alternately at the table of the common people and the banquet of the great, but still constantly intent on the work to which God had called him.
At the same time he was an indefatigable student. In the morning, till ten, he read, wrote, and translated: Hebrew in particular engaged his attention. After dinner he attended to those who had any thing to tell him, or any advice to ask of him: took a walk with his friends and visited his hearers. At two he resumed his studies. He took a short walk after supper, and afterwards wrote letters which often occupied him till midnight. He always stood when he studied, and did not allow himself to be interrupted unless on important business.[719]