A FRENCH MONK.
CHAP. XIII.
A French monk—He teaches in Switzerland—Dispute between the Monk and Zuinglius—Discourse of the Leader of the Johannites—The Carnival at Berne—The Eaters of the Dead—The Skull of St. Anne—Appenzel—The Grisons—Murder and Adultery—Marriage of Zuinglius.
On Saturday the 12th July there was seen entering the streets of Zurich a monk, tall, thin, stiff, gaunt, clad in a grey cordelier frock, and mounted upon an ass. He had the look of a foreigner, and his bare feet almost touched the ground.[849] He arrived thus by the road from Avignon. He did not know one word of German, but by means of Latin succeeded in making himself understood. Francis Lambert (this was his name) asked for Zuinglius and delivered him a letter from Berthold Haller. "The Franciscan father," wrote the Bernese curate, "who is no less than the apostolic preacher of the general convent of Avignon, has, for nearly five years, been teaching Christian truth: he has preached in Latin to our priests at Geneva, at Lausanne in presence of the bishop, at Friburg, and finally at Berne. His subjects were, the Church, the priesthood, the sacrifice of the mass, the traditions of the Roman bishops, and the superstitions of the religious orders. It seemed to me wonderful to hear such things from a cordelier and a Frenchman—circumstances, both of which, as you know, imply a host of superstitions."[850] The Frenchman himself related to Zuinglius how the writings of Luther having been discovered in his cell, he had been obliged to take a hasty leave of Avignon; how he had first preached the gospel at Geneva, and thereafter at Lausanne. Zuinglius, overjoyed, gave the monk access to the church of Notre Dame, assigning him a seat in the choir near the high altar. Lambert here delivered four sermons, in which he forcibly attacked the errors of Rome, but in the fourth he defended the invocation of the saints and the Virgin.
HE TEACHES IN SWITZERLAND.
"Brother, you are in error,"[851] immediately exclaimed an animated voice. It was the voice of Zuinglius. Canons and chaplains thrilled with joy when they saw a quarrel rising between the Frenchman and the heretical curate. "He has attacked you," said they all to Lambert: "demand a public discussion." The man of Avignon did so, and at ten o'clock on the morning of the 12th of July, the two chaplains met in the hall of the canons. Zuinglius opened the Old and New Testament in Greek and Latin: he discussed and lectured till two. Then the French monk, clasping his hands, and raising them towards heaven, exclaimed,[852] "I thank thee, O God, that thou hast by this illustrious instrument given me such a clear knowledge of the truth! Henceforth," added he, turning towards the assembly, "in all my distresses I will invoke God only and leave off my beads. To-morrow I resume my journey. I go to Bâle to see Erasmus of Rotterdam, and thence to Wittemberg to see the monk Martin Luther." He accordingly remounted his ass and set out. We will again meet with him. He was the first exile from France, for the cause of the gospel, who appeared in Switzerland and Germany—a modest fore-runner of many thousands of refugees and confessors.
Myconius had no such consolation. On the contrary he saw Sebastian Hofmeister, who had come from Constance to Lucerne, and there boldly preached the gospel, obliged to quit the city. Then Oswald's grief increased. The moist climate of Lucerne disagreed with him. He was wasted by fever; and the physicians declared that if he did not change his residence he would die. Writing to Zuinglius, he says, "There is no place I should like better to be than beside yourself, and no place worse than at Lucerne. Men torture, and the climate consumes me. My disease, some say, is the punishment of my iniquity. Ah, it is vain to speak, vain to act: every thing is poison to them. There is One in heaven on whom alone my hope depends."[853]
THE COMMANDER OF THE JOHANNITES.
This hope was not vain. It was towards the end of March, and the feast of the Annunciation was at hand. The evening before there was a great solemnity in commemoration of a fire which in 1540 had reduced the greater part of the town to ashes. Multitudes from the surrounding districts had flocked into Lucerne, and several hundreds of priests were then assembled. Some distinguished orator was usually employed to preach on this great occasion. Conrad Schmid, commander of the Johannites, arrived to discharge the duty. An immense crowd thronged the church. What was the general astonishment on hearing the commander lay aside the pompous Latin to which they had been accustomed, and speak in good German,[854] so that all could comprehend him, enforce with authority and holy fervour the love of God in sending his Son, eloquently prove that external works cannot save, and that the promises of God are truly the power of the gospel. "God forbid," said the commander to his astonished audience, "that we should receive a chief so full of lies as the Bishop of Rome, and reject Jesus Christ.[855] If the Bishop of Rome dispenses the bread of the gospel, let us receive him as pastor, but not as head; and if he does not dispense it, let us not receive him in any way whatever." Oswald was unable to restrain his joy. "What a man!" exclaimed he: "what a discourse! what majesty! what authority! what overflowing of the Spirit of Christ!" The impression was general. To the agitation which filled the town succeeded a solemn silence; but all this was transient. When nations shut their ears against the calls of God, these calls are diminished from day to day, and soon cease. Thus it was at Lucerne.
At Berne, while the truth was preached from the pulpit, the papacy was attacked at the merry-makings of the people. Nicolas Manuel, a distinguished layman, celebrated for his poetical talents, and advanced to the first offices in the state, indignant at seeing his countrymen pillaged by Samson, composed carnival dramas, in which, with the keen weapon of satire, he attacked the avarice, pride, and luxury of the pope and the clergy. On the Shrove Tuesday "of the Lords," (the clergy were at this time the lords, and began Lent eight days before the common people,) all Berne was engrossed with a drama or mystery entitled, "The Eaters of the Dead," which young boys were going to perform in the street of La Croix. The people flocked to it in crowds. In regard to the progress of art, these dramatic sketches of the beginning of the sixteenth century are of some interest; but we give them here with a very different view. We would have been better pleased not to have had to quote squibs of this description on the part of the Reformation, for truth triumphs by other arms. But the historian does not make his facts. He must give them as he finds them.