More serious danger threatened the League, through the cropping up again of the old antagonism between the country commonwealths and the city states. Disputes arose concerning the distribution of the Burgundian conquests, and the admission of Freiburg and Solothurn, which had solicited the favour, into the federal fold. In the fifteenth century the balance of political power was gradually inclining towards the cities. Zurich, Bern, and Lucerne, had far outstripped the "Länder" in population, wealth, influence, and culture, and in 1481 their forces amounted to 35,000 as against the 15,500 of the other five cantons. They advocated the division of the spoil in proportion to their soldiery, and the reception of their two helpmates in the previous wars by way of reward. But the three Forest States, presuming on their prestige as the primary stock and foundation of the league, and anxious to maintain their position, resisted measures that would throw the weight of power entirely on the opposite side. Their narrow and selfish views and their obstinacy placed the Confederation in jeopardy. Meetings, held to settle differences, only deepened the bitterness. A final Diet was fixed for the 18th of December, 1481, at Stanz (Unterwalden), and the foremost men met to arrange, if possible, a compromise. But high words were exchanged, and when the excitement had reached its height, the pastor of that place, Im Grund, stole away, and proceeded at dead of night to the cave Zum Ranft, in a wilderness near Sachseln. Here he took counsel with Nicholas von der Flüe, the famous hermit, who had dwelt there for the space of twenty years. Mild words and deep thoughts proceeded from the good man, whose love for his country had always been of the strongest. In his earlier days he had served as a soldier and a magistrate, had married, and had had several children born to him. But always given to meditation, he was at the age of fifty-one suddenly filled with religious enthusiasm, and, unable to appease his yearning soul, took leave of his family, and retired into deep seclusion. His commune built him a cell and chapel--still to be seen near Sachseln--on a rock called die Flüe, hence his name. A few planks formed his bed, and his pillow was a log of wood. Stores he needed not, for he lived on roots and wild berries, and the saying went abroad amongst the country folk that he was sustained by the bread of the holy sacrament alone, and ate no other food. The peasants regarded his person with wonder and awe, and though he was seen at times worshipping at Einsiedeln, no man ever saw him on his way to or from that place. The fame of his wisdom spread beyond the boundaries of his own land, and many were the high personages who came to consult his oracle--from all parts of the empire and Italy, envoys from Sigmund and Frederick. But into subtle discussions he never entered, leaving them rather to his priests. "Pure water does not flow