It is not surprising, that upon a portion of the councils at least, some effect should be produced by such appeals, and no less by the reports concerning the disposition of their own people, which reached them from time to time. One of these was communicated to Zurich by the commander of Hitzkirch, Albert von Muelinen. It related to an event, that occurred in a popular assembly at Lenzburg. The government of Bern had called it together, partly to correct false rumors by a special deputation, and partly to explain the reasons of the prohibition and exhort the people to perform their duty in case of need. When now they were formally enjoined so to do, one cried out: "Where is it written in the Gospel that we must deny food to our neighbor?" another: "We will have no war for religions' sake; if they are not willing to believe in God, let them stick to the devil!" Another wished a delegate to be sent to Bremgarten, and others still referred to a declaration of the government made at the opening of the Reformation, that it should begin and end in peace. The resolute behavior of the Bernese deputies was scarcely able to prevent an actual outbreak on the part of the malcontents.

Under such circumstances, the inactivity of some, the perplexity of others, and the ill-humor of a third class, rendered Zwingli's situation more difficult from day to day, as the number of those, who blamed him with all the evil, and pointed him out as an unceasing author of mischief, continued to increase even in Zurich. Fierce was the anger of the Nobles' Guild, because six of its members, accused of hostility to the Reformation, had been obliged, chiefly through his exertions, to withdraw, part from the Great and part from the Small Council. The majority of the millers and bakers also opposed him, because they attributed the fact, that the authorities had of late become far more strict in their supervision, to his preaching. "For, from the most ancient times," Bullinger, who narrates this, adds, "preachers have had to bear the blame, when obliged to preach against anything done contrary to the Word of God." To the burgher of the town, it was pretended by his enemies, that he was seeking the favor of the country-people, in order by their aid to keep down the cities; to the country-man, who, in the present condition of things, saw his cottage, his undefended property, the life and fortune of his family in continual peril, that he alone stood in the way of peace with the Five Cantons. Intrigue, mistrust, disunion reigned in the Council itself. It became more and more difficult to find suitable persons to execute important missions. Several of the most experienced statesmen endeavored to withdraw. The well-meaning sighed over the inextricable confusion.

Matters had already come to such a pass, that a feeling of his own forsaken condition took hold of the Reformer himself. "Hence he came," as Bullinger informs us, "before the Council and burghers, on the 26th of July, and told how he had now preached the Gospel for eleven years, and warned them with the fidelity of a father, and thoroughly and often and abundantly pointed out, amongst other things, what evil would ensue to them and the Common Confederacy, if the Five Cantons, i.e. the crew of pensioners, should get the upper hand. All this had no effect upon them. It could easily be seen that there were yet those in the Council, who did not disdain the wages of blood, and were the best friends of the Five Cantons and enemies to the Gospel. Further, the city had managed ill and could expect little good to come of it. And because she would not follow him and the truth, and he was continually blamed for every disaster that happened, he would now bid them farewell." He said this with tears, according to the testimony of Werner Steiner, one of his friends, and then left the council-house.

The alarm was general; much was said here and there. At last the two burgomasters and several of the most prominent members were commissioned to persuade him to retract his resolution. The meeting took place about noon of the same day. Zwingli asked time for reflection; and on the 29th of July appeared again before the Council to say that he would not abandon the post, in which the city had placed him until death. The effect of this declaration was soon manifest in the reviving spirit of the Council. None of its members were permitted to resign, and on the 6th of August the following ordinance was published: "That for some time past manifold discord, anger and contrariety have arisen in the Councils and among the burghers, so that certain individuals have frequently refused to execute the business and commands imposed upon them, and thereby encouraged others to purpose the same, is well known to us; and we desire that every one, be he of the Small or of the Great Council, when entrusted with an embassy, on horseback or otherwise, will dutifully perform it, unless he make oath that he could not do so, without the sacrifice of his life. If any fail in this duty, he shall be arraigned, and an inquiry held as to the proper punishment."

Zwingli, seeing the chief danger in the vacillation of Bern and her lack of energy, resolved, since, just at that time, another meeting in Bremgarten had been brought about by the advocates of peace, to use all his personal influence with Jacob von Wattenwyl and Peter im Haag, the Bernese deputies there. He entered the city at night-fall, accompanied by Peter Collin and Werner Steiner. The consultation took place immediately, in the house of Bullinger and in his presence. They all agreed that it was now too late to recall the prohibition, except the Five Cantons would first yield. Such a step of weakness would only render them more overbearing. But to carry it out, and yet remain at peace, was still more doubtful. The oppressed would rise up, and then all the injury, resulting from the invasion, and every kind of reproach, would be heaped upon them. Whether Zwingli gave any further counsel, is not stated in Bullinger's narrative. He simply adds, "the Bernese promised to do their best." At all events, the Reformer departed with a heavy heart. As if conscious that he would never meet again on earth the friend, who went with him as far as the city-gate, he took leave of him with weeping eyes, repeating three times the words: "God keep thee, dear Henry, and be thou faithful to the Lord Christ!"

This scene occurred on the night of St. Laurence's day, and just at that time, according to Bullinger, the famous comet of 1531 first became visible. Zwingli gazed at it from the churchyard of the Great Minster. "What can it portend?" was the question put to him by the abbot George Mueller of Wettingen, in accordance with the belief of the age. "It will cost me, my George, me and many an honorable man his life. The truth and the Church will suffer calamity, but God will not forsake them!" In the pulpit he spake in a similar strain: "Thou wilt not punish pride, Zurich. Well then! thou wilt be punished thyself; a hedge of thorns will bristle about thy head. The chain is forged, which will twist my neck and that of many a pious Zuricher. Still, God will maintain His Word, and pride will have its fall."

It seems that he was already familiar with the thought of an early death. Indeed, who knows if he did not desire it? What could vindicate him in the face of his accusers and enemies raging on all sides, like perseverance to the end, like death in defence of his cause, the freedom of that Gospel, from which alone he could hope for a better future, the regeneration of his fatherland, of humanity? He may indeed at this crisis have glanced back over his past life, and examined himself, whether he was as blameless as he was steadfast, whether the good spirit had not forsaken him. A clear conscience could bear witness that he had never sought anything, save the truth and the welfare and honor of his country. Perhaps in solitary moments the question may have come up before him: "Art thou equally content with all the means which thou hast employed?"

This was the serious question. The answer could be more or less satisfactory, just as the Reformer understood the mission of his life. "The years of our life are three score and ten, and by reason of strength they may be four score." As a rule, the half of this period may be devoted to active duties. He, then, who does not shrink from laying before the world the results of honest research and conviction; he who breaks a path and removes obstacles, that stand in the way of others; he who wishes not only to sow but to reap, to behold the rich fruits of his labor, can neither be idle nor reflect too long, in every case, about the choice of means. These are often, in and of themselves, by no means blameless, and yet the only ones by which the end can be speedily attained; for usually adversaries are to be dealt with who are not all scrupulous themselves. They must be beaten by their own weapons. Such in all ages, has been the policy of men, especially those whom history calls great. The Jesuits were neither the first, nor the only politicians who adopted the maxim, that the end sanctifies the means; although they perhaps have given it the most damnable application. If a man is fully bound by his calling to act with promptness and decision, if the present generation, or his fatherland, suffers or gains by his action, then his task is doubly difficult, and cases may be supposed, where he is not left free to choose between means that are censurable and those that are praiseworthy, but only between those that are less censurable and those that are more so. Such is the unenviable position of the statesman; and it will thus continue, until public life is so transformed, that fair and pure measures will suffice for its maintenance; in other words, until the visible revelation of the kingdom of God here below, which Christ proclaimed, which he foresaw, and for which he himself scattered the seed in the earth.

This kingdom of God is that of universal freedom, truth and love. It is built only upon a faith not imposed, upon a personal conviction. Hence, to promote it is a very different mission, one that belongs to the preachers of the Gospel. They should employ none but the purest means, since their aim is altogether pure and holy. Whether its coming will be slow or rapid, is not for us here to consider. They are to seek greatness not by ruling and domineering, but by serving and waiting, like their Divine Exemplar. He who labors in His service, before whom "a thousand years are as one day," full of unshaken trusty leaves it to Him, to fix the time when His harvest shall be ripe. To-day the seed falls among thorns; to-morrow it drops into a fertile soil, and in the end fruit, sixty and a hundred-fold, will not be wanting. But then a laborer in this kingdom, since it often has to do with the wants and wishes of governments, or the peculiarities of states, will be drawn by necessity to take part in secular affairs, to exert a direct influence upon political life; yet he durst not swerve from those fundamental principles, which must guide his course; he cannot sacrifice the higher calling to the lower. That in the bosom of the Reformer, along with the peaceful review of all his labors and sufferings for evangelical liberty, such a consciousness may have awakened, in the last year of his life, some regret in regard to certain events in his political career, is quite probable from the deep seriousness and melancholy, which we observe in him at this period, as well as from the fervor with which he cast himself into the arms of the Supreme Disposer of all human destinies. He was not at all angry, when reminded of the duty of forbearance and love, whenever he perceived that the exhortation came from a heart that wished him well. To the end of his life he continued on friendly terms with Valentine Tschudi, his successor in Glarus, who, though cherishing all honor toward his former beloved teacher, did not approve of his frequent rough manner of proceeding, and without fear reminded him of the patience and mildness required by the Gospel. At this very time, when Zwingli was powerfully urging the use of compulsory measures against the Five Cantons, Tschudi wrote to him: "There is an old proverb, dearest teacher, 'So many heads, so many minds.' If from this source discord often arises about trifles, need we wonder, should it become yet more violent, where the most important matters are concerned? In a time, when the most learned are at their wits' end, I do not believe, like many others, that we should fan their passions into a general blaze by always accusing our enemies, but that the more care should be taken, lest we slide from the common foundation of our faith--love. Here only can we stand firm; all else is wavering, dependent on accidental circumstances, as all earthly things are. I cannot understand, how, though the old building be so rotten, we can erect a new one, solely on the foundation of the letter, without love, without the communion of saints. How many congregations did there not formerly flourish in Asia, in Africa, in Greece? What became of them, when their leaders quarrelled, when under the mask of science, ambition arose, and like Icarus, would soar with waxen pinions toward the sun? Human science is one thing; wisdom, kindled by the breath of God, another; and that is love. I see this love forsaking even the most learned, and in its stead appear indifference toward God; contempt of authority, a trampling upon law and judgment, a life of ungovernable passion. Exert your utmost strength, honored teacher, to prevent it from vanishing altogether. The mere knowledge of the Word cannot protect us, if every one is allowed to interpret it as he pleases, if the spirit of concord, the Holy Spirit does not dwell in them, who use it. The generosity, which breathes through your last letter, and of which in earlier days I received so many proofs, deserves my warmest thanks. It may easily happen, that I will yet be obliged to take refuge with one of my friends; for some are angry at my slow progress, and others at my slight disposition, to apologize for the old order. But I cannot abstain from aiding the weak and comforting distressed consciences. I will rather endure reproach for too much lenity, than render the breach incurable by untimely violence. Little salvation as I expect from ceremonies and external acts, I look for just as little in science also, until the spirit of concord return to our bosoms, and its peaceful culture be made possible. Indeed drag-chains even can become indispensable to the wagon, when it rolls in its rushing course down toward the abyss. God be with us! May his Spirit lead us into a secure haven! Do all that in thee lies, to attain this end."

But what could Zwingli do in the circumstances by which he was surrounded? To hold back the wagon, or to guide it, was no longer in his power. A higher Hand had already seized the reins, to direct it according to a plan, which, though dark and mysterious to the men of that age, succeeding generations, who are able to see all the events in their connection, have learned to admire for its wisdom. We again draw near one of those periods in the lives of nations, when everything must be ventured for the cause of truth and liberty, the rights of conscience preserved by death, past errors atoned for by a glorious expiation, and the censure of posterity disarmed by the magnitude of the sacrifice.