Proceeding from this stand-point, Zwingli saw in the war, which he himself undoubtedly advised, only a political conflict. On the one side appeared to him, imbued as he was with the idea of a purely spiritual kingdom of God and Christ, a worldly power defending itself not by the lawful, yea, necessary weapons of science and sound judgment, but by anathemas and the flames of the faggot, and on the other, those who wished to attain and defend liberty, without which neither a religion of the heart nor of the head, nor a faith matured to conviction by the agreement of both, was possible. With this feeling he wrote to his friend in Bern: "The peace, about which many now talk so much, is war; the war, which I wish, peace. There can be no security either for the truth, or her worshippers, till the ground-pillars of tyranny be overthrown. Do not lose confidence in me, because I must say this. With God's help I will prove myself worthy of it." But, even if the question, according to the judgment of the Reformer, was fairly one of an external, political nature, when logically carried out, it would take the form of opinion in some, or of principle in others. Yet never will such questions be solved by weapons of iron. The blind iron usually wounds the principle for which it was drawn out, and its defender first. "Put up thy sword in its sheath," said Christ to Peter, "for they, who take the sword, shall perish by the sword;" and for Zwingli it was a prophetic word. Only for material interests, lying equally before the eyes of all the world; only when the duty of fighting against the violation of national treaties or human laws, or else for upholding them, does true policy take up the sword, and in this respect the statesmanship of Bern seems more prudent; yea, more in harmony with the Federal Compact, than that of Zurich. But there are moments in the lives of nations, when prudence will no longer avail, and energetic action, even passionate endeavor, becomes a necessity. In such cases each one has to appeal to his own conviction of duty, and his justification lies in his willingness to sacrifice himself therefor. Over the corpse of the noble victim, the censuring voice of posterity is silent.