To these new and dangerous doctrines the people of Brescia listened with the greatest ardor. He unfolded to them the dark pages of ecclesiastical history, over which we have just been traveling. The whole city was in a state of the greatest excitement. Nor can we wonder at the enthusiasm of the populace, when they heard that the riches of the clergy should return to the laity, and that, in future, their pastors were to be supported by the voluntary contributions of their flocks. He would be a bold preacher who dared to arouse the people to fanaticism with such appeals and proposals in the nineteenth century: what must he have been in the twelfth, in the midst of darkness, ignorance and superstition? Such a man was the premature reformer of Brescia; and, being a stern monk of blameless life, unquestioned as to his orthodoxy, and having full sympathy with popular religion, his power was resistless. The great object of his efforts was the complete overthrow of sacerdotal power—the temporal supremacy of the pope. He thus dared to lay his hand on the great papal scheme of universal dominion, and for a moment it tottered to its base. The pope was driven from his throne, the Republic proclaimed, the standard of liberty raised, the separation of the spiritual and temporal powers published, and the government of priests abolished. But the enthusiasm of the citizens was evanescent, without unity, and of short duration. The soil was not yet prepared for the growth of liberty. The iniquity of the anti-christian system was not yet full. Jezebel's thirst was not yet quenched with the blood of the saints of God. Millions more must perish before she receives her deadly wound. This we shall soon see.
Arnold was no longer safe in Italy. The resentment of the clergy he found to be stronger and deeper far than the favor of the populace. He escaped beyond the Alps, and ultimately found a safe and hospitable shelter in Zurich. There the forerunner of the famous Zwingle was allowed for a time to lecture, and the simple people long retained the spirit of his doctrines. But such a man must not be allowed to live anywhere. Bernard was watching his every movement. He urged the pope to extreme measures; he wrote angrily to those who gave him a shelter, warning them to beware of the fatal infection of heresy. He sharply rebuked the diocesan bishop of Zurich for protecting him. "Why," he says, "have you not long since driven Arnold away? He who consorts with the suspected becomes liable to suspicion; he who favors one under the papal excommunication contravenes the pope and even the Lord God Himself. Now therefore that you know your man, drive him from among you; or, better still, chain him down, that he may do no more mischief."
After various fortunes, such as are common to that class of men, and such as we need not here trace, Arnold returned to Rome. Here he was allowed to remain for some time because of the feebleness of the pontiff and the troubled state of the city; but when Pope Adrian ascended the throne of St. Peter, the days of Arnold were numbered.