Another seller of indulgences, Bernardine Samson, drove Zwinglius, in 1518, to declare himself openly. Ever, we see, the rebellion of conscience against the disorders of Catholic authority. The Reformation was a protestation of outraged morality, before it was a religious revival. This unfrocked Carmelite had brought from Italy an impudence which provoked the indignation of vice itself. “I can pardon every sin,” he cried; “heaven and hell are submitted to my power, and I sell the favours of Jesus Christ to whomsoever will buy them for ready money.” He boasted of having carried off enormous sums from a poor country. When there was a lack of coin, he took in exchange for his papal bulls, plate of silver and gold. He made his acolytes shout to the multitude that pressed around his stalls: “Hinder not each other. Let those come first who have money; we will try afterwards to content those who have none.” Ulrich Zwinglius, from that time, attacked the power of the pope, the penitential sacrament, the merit of ceremonial works, the sacrifice of the Mass, abstinence from flesh, the celibacy of priests; gradually growing more firm and more decided as the public voice answered his with increasing energy. The Swiss Reformer was modest, affable, popular, and of irreproachable life. He had a profound knowledge of the Scriptures, a living faith, a solid erudition, clear ideas, a simple and precise language, an activity without limit. Stored with the Greek and Roman literature, and full of admiration for the great men of antiquity, he had some opinions which appeared novel and over-bold in his time. Zwinglius admitted, like many of the old fathers of the Church, the permanent and universal action of the divine spirit on humanity. “Plato,” said he, “also drank of the divine fountain: and if the two Catos, if Camillus and Scipio, had not been truly religious, would they have been so magnanimous?”[5] Called to Zurich, he taught there, not what he had received from the Romish tradition, but what he had gathered from the Bible. “This is the preacher of truth,” said he to the magistrates; “it announces to you things as they are.” And from the year 1520, the council of Zurich published an ordinance, enjoining upon their ecclesiastics not to preach anything which was not found in the Holy Scriptures. Three years after, Pope Adrian, seeing the growing authority of Zwinglius, endeavoured to gain him over. He sent him a letter, in which he complimented him upon his excellent virtues, and directed his legate to offer him _everything short of the pontifical throne_. Adrian knew the worth of the man, not his character. At the very moment when such high dignities were offered to him, Zwinglius was victoriously disputing at Zurich against the delegates of the bishop of Constance.