The Life and Times of Ulric Zwingli

by Johann Jakob Hottinger

But at length their hatred broke out into open flame against the bold, troublesome speaker--the preacher, who dabbled in politics--the fanner's son of a remote district, who had the presumption to attack the great ones of the land, the old patrician families, and who, though himself not pure, nevertheless cast blame on others. Full of avarice, envy and hypocrisy, the proud, the fault-finders and the spiritual dwarfs met together. They whispered, fanned their rage, shook their heads, reviled, threatened; in a short time they had no rest, till he wished himself away; and hence, at a later period, he thus wrote to Vadianus, "Nothing else could have induced me to change my situation but the intrigues of the French. I am now at Einsiedeln. I would tell you what injury the French faction has done me, if I did not think that you knew it already. I had to take part in affairs, and have suffered and learned to suffer much evil."

We will now examine the charges, that were brought against Zwingli, keeping steadily in view the position as to science, character, and fitness for his calling, which he occupied, when he left Glarus. As the indispensable fruits of a republican form of government we look for freedom to be good and true, decision of character, and the unrestricted development of every nobler feeling and of every kind of profound knowledge. When it protects and fosters such tendencies, and makes good its title to an honorable place among other forms. But when it fails so to do, because of democratic, or aristocratic degeneracy, it then writes its own condemnation. Zwingli began his labors as a republican, in whom the citizen was not lost in the priest. And this we must always bear in mind, so as not to do him injustice, when we see him working as resolutely in the state as in the church. Whether this course can be defended in our time does not concern us. It seemed well in his age, and that it is our business now to describe. The republican feeling of equality gave him, moreover courage to face every opponent with boldness, yet always with argument. He honored the old families, when they practised the old virtues. The man of rank, who sinned against his country, was in his eyes more worthy of punishment than a common person. Meanwhile these views found too much sympathy in the free Canton of Glarus, to allow his enemies to attack him, except in an indirect way. They harped, therefore, so much the more on the third charge, that he even, the fault-finder himself, was not innocent. "Why," say they, "does he rail out continually against French intrigue? Only because he has sold himself to the Papal interest. Is he not in close league with Cardinal Schinner? Is he not his spy, his minion, commissioned by him to distribute the presents of the Pope? Does he not receive letters, testimonials of honor, from the Nuncio? Yes, he--even he who calls us takers of bribes, draws a yearly pension from the Pope."

And certainly it was so, but with this difference--an honorable intention on his part, and a base one on theirs. The scientific and practical qualifications of Schinner and his clear insight into the relations of life were highly esteemed by Zwingli, who looked on him as a strong champion in the contest against French corruption. And in truth this son of a poor shepherd in Valais was no common man. By talent and industry he had raised himself to the bishopric of that Canton. Defeated by an opposing party he had to flee, but was already known to the Pope, from whom he received a Cardinal's hat. Of course he now labored to advance the interests of Rome and the Empire among the Confederates, but at the time when Zwingli became acquainted with him, not by such disreputable means, as afterwards. Any separation from the church was as yet far from the thoughts of the Reformer, although he already desired the correction of existing abuses. What was more natural for him than to seek to win over to his assistance those, who could exert a direct influence in Rome, the Cardinal and the Nuncio? And indeed, a few years later, when he came out manfully against the politics of Rome, he yet distinguished between the person of the Cardinal and his cause, and true to earlier feelings of friendship, defended the former, as long as it was possible. "They,"--wrote he to Myconius--"who blame me for yielding too much to the Cardinal, I suspect are only friends and well-wishers in appearance, and censure me for that which, though it were not altogether reasonable, ought to be allowed on the score of friendship. Rather would I err in thinking well of a bad man, if I did not know him to be bad, than in thinking ill of a good one." The fifty florins, which he drew yearly on the order of the Pope, were laid out only in books and scientific helps, needed for the better exercise of his calling. This pension he gave up of his own accord at a later day.

The main charge, however, was directed against his moral conduct. Not merely gloomy hypocrites, habitual fault-finders, who took offence at every joke, to which his gay humor may have prompted him, and condemned his love of music and society, but unprejudiced, worthy men also regretted that his attentions to the women were not always kept within proper bounds. It were idle to deny, what he himself openly confessed, when he bewailed the errors of his youth and strove to do them away by redoubled zeal and faithfulness to duty. Some excuse may be found for him in the customs of his age. The failings of superiors were then treated with indulgence, and a transgression of this kind received but a mild sentence at the bar of public opinion. His honorable dismissal from Glarus, given to him only with reluctance, shows, also, that in spite of occasional short-comings, his character was held in general esteem. Certainly Catholic writers, since then and even in modern times, have sought to cast a stain on his later work by laying undue stress on this weakness of the Reformer's youth.^[7] The simple question may be put to them, 'Are not Augustine and Jerome counted among your most distinguished saints? And yet you know, or ought to know, what they have confessed--things that Zwingli had never to renounce.'

He was now past his thirty-first year, and in the full vigor of manhood. His national sympathies, the extent of his knowledge, his courage and ability were well known to the inhabitants of Glarus and to many also beyond the limits of the little Canton. As to matters of faith the struggle was yet going on in his own bosom. Here, on the one hand, stood the Church, to whose priesthood he had been consecrated, with her stiff, unbending dogmas, and her stale, lifeless forms, yet esteemed holy, to touch which was regarded as an unpardonable crime in the individual; and there, on the other, eternal truth, superior to the narrow restrictions of human power, raised above decretals and the decisions of Councils, drawing to herself all noble spirits with an irresistible charm, of all objects the most worthy of pursuit and untiring effort--and besides these a third, easily overlooked by the inexperienced youth--by the thinker in his quiet chamber, but not by the practical man, who must mingle directly with the people--the necessity of a higher, a more infallible authority than his own, an authority acceptable to all good men and acknowledged by all. It was well for him that he knew how to connect this with the results of his investigation. Not by ignoring the understanding, not by a cowardly retreat, where others ventured freely to inquire, not by an assent, that feared to ask for proof, lest one should cry out, "Wo to the heretic!"--No! but by boldly examining for himself and using his reason, he only arrived at the more settled conviction of the truth of the Holy Scripture and of the divine power of the faith built thereon. "Take good, strong wine," wrote he to the nuns in Oedenbach, at a later period, "it tastes good to the healthy, makes him glad of heart, strengthens him, warms his blood. But he, who lies sick of a distemper, or fever, and cannot taste it, much less drink it, wonders how those who are healthy can drink it. The fault is not in the wine, but in the disease. So the Divine Word is altogether right in itself, and revealed for the good of men. But he, who cannot bear it, nor understand it, and will not receive it, is sick. Thus let them be answered, who wickedly say, God would not have his Word understood," (we must subject reason to faith) "as if God wished to expose us to danger."

In order to attain completely that firm ground, where settled conviction is the result of the union of faith and knowledge, he could scarcely have done a wiser thing, than to withdraw into the more quiet retreat, which was opened for him in the neighboring Einsiedeln.

Far and wide, throughout the Confederacy, and the surrounding countries, was spread the name and glory of this monastery, which, like St. Gall and Muri, was subject to the rule of Benedict. It dates its origin as far back as the ninth century, and was built on that spot, occupied in the beginning by the hermit's cell of Meinhard, a German count. A legend of a voice, that fell from heaven, when in the following century the Bishop of Constance was dedicating a new chapel there, and of a song of angels repeatedly and distinctly heard, gave rise to the yearly festival of the "Consecration of the Angels," which, when it happened on a Sunday, as it did every seventh year, was celebrated with increased splendor. The story of Meinhard's death and the discovery of his murderers by means of ravens, who followed them, survived among the traditions of the people, and the miracle being accredited by Pope Leo VIII, and the power of granting plenary indulgences allowed to the monastery, vast crowds of pilgrims were attracted thither. By their offerings and the donations of the great it became wealthy. The Abbos enjoyed the rank of a Prince, and the monks, as a body, were descended from noble families. They were a proud, irritable race, and could talk as much almost about the history of their quarrels as of their pious exercises. Conrad of Hohenrechberg, who, in the beginning of the sixteenth century, stood at their head, troubled himself little about incense and choral singing, and thought it a wicked thing in his relations to have forced him to take the cowl. He took a knightly pleasure in the chase, and his heart leapt at the sight of a drawn sword. To cunning and hypocrisy his nature was averse. Whoever was open, simple, and sincerely pious found a friend in him. For learned men he had a great esteem, but from lack of elementary knowledge, was not able to follow their investigations. This he modestly confessed. The reading of the mass he avoided as often as it was possible, and was free to say, "If Christ be in the bread, then indeed I know not how highly you prize yourselves; but I, poor monk, am not worthy to look on him once, and hence decline to offer him. Is he not there?--wo is me! if I offer bread, instead of God, and suffer the people to adore it." When disputes ran too high, he sometimes broke them off with the words, "Why so much talk? Now and at my last hour, I say with David--Have mercy, O God, upon me, according to thy loving-kindness. Enter not into judgment with thy servant. More I do not wish to know." He was a diamond, unpolished, it is true, and carelessly set, but always powerful enough to prevent any interference in the government of his foundation.

At his side, Theobald of Geroldseck, filled the influential post of Administrator. Zwingli himself writes of him, "His share of knowledge is quite moderate, but he knows the value of learning, and particularly seeks intercourse with those, who are possessed of it." By the aid of such persons he desired to increase the prosperity of the monastery, for the advantage and maintenance of whose privileges, he was clothed with power. He was glad therefore to learn that Zwingli was able to accept a call, and in fact an agreement was entered into by the attorneys of the two parties on the 14 April, 1516, at Pfaffikon, on Lake Zurich, in consequence of which Zwingli undertook the office of preacher and pastor, in the capacity of vicar to the people's priest at Einsiedeln, for which boarding at the convent-table, 20 florins at the quarter-fastings, the revenues arising from the penny-offering and requiems, and his own share of the confession-fees were guaranteed to him, and the first complete benefice at the disposal of the Administrator besides. Nevertheless, at their own urgent request, he still remained pastor of his congregation in Glarus, and discharged his duties there by the help of a vicar.

In the summer of the same year, trained as he already was in the school of the world, he entered into the quiet shades of the cloister. It can scarcely be expected that he will remain there long. First of all, let us take a view of monastic life on its most favorable side, as a school of self-denial, as a place of refuge for more profound study, as a field for the exercise of practical charity. In all these respects it has no doubt served valuable ends. And who will deny that, in times when the will of the strong would endure no restraint, when bloody revenge was thought to be a duty, and when iron bodies, broken by no excess, added deeds of violence to deeds of violence, a milder spirit was awakened in the walls of the cloister, and that pride was humbled there, and self-will subdued?--that in the God's peace, which protected its environs, the mechanic, as well as the peasant, found labor and encouragement? And who does not acknowledge the services rendered by particular monasteries, especially those of the Benedictines, in the preservation and multiplication of rare manuscripts--the works of the ancients, that had survived the downfall of the Western Empire and the irruption of barbarian hordes? And even in later times, in our own country, who will not freely own his indebtedness to a Kopp in Muri, a Van der Meer in Rheinau, and the monks of the neighboring St. Blaise,---a Herrgott, Neugart, Eichhorn, and the Abbot Gerbert himself, for a knowledge of the diplomacy and history of the Middle Ages? Who does not honor the Augustines of Mt. St. Bernard, the Gray Sisters and the excellent schools of particular monasteries?

But then, on the other side, who will not admit that indolence, false views of life, narrow-mindedness, hypocrisy, and secret and impure practices found a home in a multitude of these establishments? In Zwingli's days, these dark features were most prominent and, we may even say, altogether prevailed. To prove this, not only Protestant, but enough of Catholic witnesses also are at hand. It was well for a man of his spirit and aspirations to spend a few years in the quiet cells of the cloister for the completion of his theological studies, especially since he was exempt from the duty of wasting time in empty ceremonial rites. But after this end was attained, it was easy to foresee that he would again wish himself beyond the narrow walls.