spoken with greater ponderance, he exhorts the people “not to despise
their enemies even though they know not Christ, but to have patience
with them.” Yet before this he had declared: “We must crush the
fiendish head of this brood with the Evangel. Then the Pope will
lose his crown.” He had also preached against the secular authority
exercised at Erfurt by the Archbishop of Mayence: “Our Holy Fathers
and reverend lords, who have the spiritual sword as well as the
temporal, want to be our rulers and masters. It is plain they have not
got even the spiritual sword, and certainly God never gave them the
temporal. Therefore it is only right, that, as they have exalted their
government so greatly, it should be greatly humbled.”[1017]
Amidst all this he has not a single word of actual blame for the
former acts of violence, but merely a few futile platitudes on
peaceableness, such as: “We do not wish to preserve the Evangel by
our own efforts,” for it is sufficiently strong to see to itself.
He assures his hearers that, “he was not concerned how to defend
it.”[1018] Yet he sets up each of his followers as “king” and
“yoke-fellow of Christ,” having the Royal Priesthood so that they may
defy the Hierarchy, “who have stolen the sword out of our hands.” All
this while expressly professing to proclaim the great and popular
doctrine of faith and Bible only.
“You have been baptised and endowed with the true faith, therefore
you are spiritual and able to judge of all things by the word of
the Evangel, and are not to be judged of any man.... Say: My faith
is founded on Christ alone and His Word, not on the Pope or on any
Councils.... My faith is here a judge and may say: This doctrine is
true, but that is false and evil. And the Pope and all his crew, nay,
all men on earth, must submit to that decision.... Therefore I say:
Whoever has faith is a spiritual man and judge of all things, and is
himself judged of no man ... the Pope owes him obedience, and, were
he a true Christian, would prostrate himself at his feet, and so too
would every University, learned man or sophist.”[1019]
All depends on one thing, namely, whether this believer “judges
according to the Evangel,” i.e. according to the new interpretation of
Scripture which Luther has disclosed.
We naturally think of Usingen and those Erfurt professors who remained
faithful to the Church when Luther, in the course of his sermon, in
sarcastic language, pits his new interpretation of Scripture against
the “sophists, birettas and skull-caps.” “Bang the mouths of the
sophists to [when they cry]: ‘_Papa, Papa_, _Concilium, Concilium_,
_Patres, Patres_, Universities, Universities.’ What on earth do we
care about that? one word of God is more than all this.”[1020] “Let
them go on with all their sermons and their dreams!” “Let us see what
such bats will do with their feather-brooms!”[1021]
The commanding tone in which he spoke and the persuasive force of his
personality were apt to make his hearers forgetful of the fact, that,
after all, his great pretensions rested on his own testimony alone.
In the general excitement the objections, which he himself had the
courage to bring forward, seemed futile: “Were not Christ and the
Gospel preached before? Do you fancy,” he replies, “that we are not
aware of what is meant by Gospel, Christ and Faith?”[1022]
It was of the utmost importance to him that, on this occasion of his
appearance at Erfurt, he should make the whole weight of his personal
authority felt so as to stem betimes the flood let loose by others who
taught differently; he was determined to impress the seal of his own
spirit upon the new religious system at this important outpost.
Even before this he had let fall some words in confidence to Lang
expressive of his concern that, at Erfurt, as it seemed to him, they
wished to outstrip him in the knowledge of the Word, so that he felt
himself decreasing while others increased (John iii. 30),[1023] and
in the Circular-Letter above mentioned, he had anxiously warned the
Erfurt believers against those who, confiding in their “peculiar
wisdom,” were desirous of teaching “something besides Christ and
beyond our preaching.”[1024] Now, personally present at the place
where danger threatened, he insists from the pulpit with great
emphasis on his mission: “It was not I who put myself forward....
Christ Our Master when sending His apostles out into the world to
preach gave them no other directions than to preach the Gospel ...
when He makes a man a preacher and apostle He also in His gracious
condescension gives him instructions how to speak and what to speak,
even down to the present day.” Those who heard him were therefore to
believe for certain “that he was not preaching what was his, but, like
the apostles, the Word of God.”[1025]
Many of his hearers were all the more likely to overlook the strange
pretensions herein embodied, seeing that a large portion of his
discourse proclaimed the sweet doctrine of evangelical freedom and
denounced good works.
For the latter purpose he very effectively introduces the Catholic
preachers, putting into their mouths the assertion, falsely credited
to them, that “only works and man’s justice” availed anything, not
“Christ and His Justice”; for they say, “faith is not sufficient,
it is also necessary to fast, to pray, to build churches, to found
monasteries, monkeries and nunneries, and so forth.” But “they will
be knocked on the head and recoil, and be convicted of the fact, that
they know nothing whatever of what concerns Christ, the Gospel and
good works.” “We cannot become pious and righteous by our own works,
if we could we should be striking Paul a blow on the mouth.” These
“dream-preachers” speak in vain of “Works, fasting and prayer,” but
you are a Christian if you believe that Christ is for you wisdom
and righteousness. “The doctrine of those who are called Christians
must not come from man, or proceed from man’s efforts.... Therefore
a Christian life is not promoted by our fasting, prayers, cowls or
anything that we may undertake.”[1026]
He returns again and again to the belief, so deeply rooted in the
heart, of the efficacy of good works in order that he may uproot
it completely. The whole Christian system demands, he thinks, the
condemnation of the importance attached hitherto to good works.
“Thus the whole of Christianity consists in your holding fast to the
Evangel, which Christ alone ordains and teaches, not to human words
or works.”[1027] It is a “devil” who speaks to you of the meritorious
power of works, “not indeed a black or painted devil, but a white
devil, who, under a beautiful semblance of life, infuses into you
the poison of eternal death.”[1028] Of the Christian who relies only
on faith, he says, “Christ’s innocence becomes his innocence, and in
the same way Christ’s piety, holiness and salvation become his, and
all that is in Christ is contained in the believing heart together
with Christ.”[1029] “But such faith is awakened in us by God. From it
spring the works by which we assist and serve our neighbour.”[1030]
He speaks at considerable length in the last part of his sermons of
the particular works which he considers allowable and commendable. How
much he wished to imply may, however, be inferred from what has gone
before.
Shall we not do good works? Shall we not pray any more, fast, found
monasteries, become monks or nuns, or do similar works? The answer
is: “There are two kinds of good works, some which are looked upon as
good,” i.e. “our own self-chosen works,” such as “special fasting,
special prayers, wearing a special dress or joining an Order.” “None
of this is ordained by God,” and “Christian faith looks to nothing
save Christ only,” therefore these works we must leave severely alone.
There are, on the other hand, works which are better than these.
“When once we have laid hold upon Christ, then good Christian works
follow, such as God has commanded and which man performs not for
his own advantage but in the service of his neighbour.” But even of
these works Luther is careful to add that they should be performed
“without placing any trust in them for justification.” “Fasting is
a good work,” but then, “the devil himself does not eat too much,”
and sometimes even “a Jew” fasts; “prayer is also a good work,” but
it does not consist in “much mumbling or shouting,” and even “the
Turk prays much with his lips.” “No one may or can bear the name of
Christian except by the work of Christ.”[1031]
Thus, even where he is forced to admit good works, he must needs add a
warning.
Finally, where he is exhorting to the patient bearing of crosses, he
immediately, and most strangely, restricts this exercise of virtue
to the limits of his own experience: One bears the cross when he is
unjustly proclaimed “a heretic and evil-doer,” not “when he is sick in
bed”; to bear the cross is to be “deprived of interior consolation,”
and to be severely tried by “God’s hand and by His anger.”[1032]
In the new congregation at Erfurt it was a question of the very
foundations of the moral life. Yet in Luther’s addresses we miss the
necessary exhortations to a change of heart, to struggle against the
passions and overcome sensuality. Neither is the sinner exhorted to
repentance, penance, contrition, fear of God and a firm purpose of
amendment, nor are the more zealous encouraged to the active exercise
of the love of God, to self-denial according to the virtues of their
state, or to sanctification by the use of those means which Luther
still continued to recognise, at least to a certain extent, such
as the Eucharist. All his exhortations merge into this one thing,
trust in Christ. He preached, indeed, one part of the sermon of the
Precursor, viz. “The Kingdom of God is at hand”; with the other:
“Bring forth therefore fruit worthy of penance,” he would have nothing
to do.
As far as the change at Erfurt went, the moral condition of the town
was to serve more than ever as a refutation of Luther’s expectation
that “the works will follow.”
On January 24, 1524, Eobanus Hessus wrote to Lang: “Immorality,
corruption of youth, contempt of learning and dissensions, such are
the fruits of your Evangel.”[1033] “I dislike being here very much,”
he says, in the same year, to his friend Sturz, “since all is lost,
for there is now no hope of a revival of learning or of a recovery in
public life. Everything is on the road to destruction, and we ourselves
are rendered odious to all classes by reason of some unlearned
deserters. “Oh, unhappy Erfurt,” he cries, in view of the “outrageous
behaviour of these godless men of God”; one seeks to oppress the other;
already the battlefield of passion is tinged with “blood.”[1034]
“You have by your preaching called forth a diabolical life in the
town,” Usingen wrote in 1524 of the preachers at Erfurt, “although this
is now displeasing to you, and you encourage it even up to the present
day; you set the people free from the obedience which, according to the
Divine command, they owe to the authorities of the Church, you deprive
the people of the fear both of God and of man, hence the corruption of
morals, which increases from day to day.”[1035]
Usingen, who continued courageously to vindicate the faith of his
fathers, was depicted by the preachers as a “crazy old man,” just as
they had been advised to do by Luther. “I am quite pleased to hear,”
Luther wrote to Lang some considerable time after his return, “that
this ‘Unsingen’ is still carrying on his fooleries; as the Apostle Paul
says, their folly must be made manifest (2 Tim. iii. 9).”[1036]
The champion of the Church, the alleged fool, was sufficiently
clear-sighted and frank to predict the Peasant-War as the end of all
the godless commotion, and to prophesy that the result of the general
religious subversion would be the ruin of his German Fatherland. A
fanatical preacher in the town had appealed to the mattocks of the
peasants. Him the Augustinian asks: “If the Word of God suffices in the
Church, why have you in your sermons appealed for help to the pickaxes,
mattocks and spades of the peasants?” “Why do you tell the people that
the peasant must come from the field with these weapons to assist
the Evangel, if your own and your comrades’ words prove of no avail?
Do you not know with what audacity the peasants are already rising
against their lords?” “The new preaching,” he complains, even where
it is not directly inflammatory, “renders the people, who are already
desirous of innovations and dearly love the freedom of the flesh, only
too much inclined for tumults, and this daily foments the spirit of
unrest.”[1037] “Do you not know that the mob is a hydra-headed monster,
a monster that thirsts for blood? Are you anxious to promote your cause
with the help of cut-throats?”[1038] Owing to the iconoclasts, the
ancient greatness of Constantinople fell, and the Roman Empire of the
East faded away; in like manner, so gloomily he predicts, the religious
struggle now being waged in Germany will bring about the ruin of the
Western Empire and the loss of its ancient greatness.[1039]
The help which the innovators received from the Erfurt magistrates
induced the leaders of the party to pin their trust on the support
of the secular authorities. Even this was justified by appeals to
Scripture.
Lang, on presenting to Hermann von Hoff, the president of the Erfurt
town-council, a translation which he had made of the Gospel of St.
Matthew, stated in the accompanying letter, that he had done so “in
order that all may know and take heed to the fact, that whatever
they undertake against the Gospel is also directed against you. It
is necessary, unfortunately, to defend the Gospel by means of the
sword.”[1040]
In July, 1521, an agreement had, it is true, been entered into which
brought some guarantee of safety to the clergy, more particularly
the Canons of St. Mary’s and St. Severus, yet in the ensuing years
the Chapters were forced to make endless protests against the
preachers’ interference in their services and the encroachments of the
magistrates on their personal liberty, all in direct contravention of
the agreement.
The council demanded that the oath of obedience should be taken to
itself and not to the Archbishop of Mayence, as heretofore. Priests
were arrested on charges which did not concern the council at all,
and were taken to the Rathaus. The clergy were obliged to pay taxes
like other citizens on all farms and property which belonged to them
or to their churches--which had been exempt from time immemorial--and
likewise on any treasure or cash they might possess. When the
peasants threatened Erfurt, the clergy were advised to bring all
the valuables belonging to their churches to the Rathaus where the
council, in view of the danger of the times, would receive them into
safe custody, giving in return formal receipts. Since the council, as
guardians of several monasteries, including St. Peter’s, had already
appointed laymen who hindered the lawful Superiors from coming to
any independent decision in matters of any moment, and as all the
chalices and other vessels of gold and silver, together with the more
valuable Church vestments, had already been seized at the Servites,
the Brothers of the Rule and the Carthusians, the Canons saw how
futile it would be to reject the “advice” given, and they accordingly
decided to deliver up the more valuable objects belonging to the two
principal churches, St. Mary’s and St. Severus, their decision being
accepted by the council with “hearty thanks.” At the formal surrender
of the vessels the magistrates protested that the Canons were really
not fully aware how well disposed they, the magistrates, were towards
them; that they had no wish to drive away the clergy, “but rather to
show them all charity so that they might return thanks to God.” Yet we
learn also that: Many persons belonging to the council whispered that
it was their intention to make the position of the clergy unbearable
by means of this and other like acts of despoliation.[1041]
On April 27, 1525, on the occasion of the taking over of the treasure,
with the co-operation of persons “distinguished for their strong
Lutheran views,” a strict search was made in both the venerable
churches for anything of any value that might have been left. Not the
least consideration was paid to the private property of the individual
clergy, objects were seized in the most violent manner, locked chests
and cupboards were simply forced open, or, if this took too long,
broken with axes. Every hasp of silver on copes and elsewhere was
torn off. “Unclean fists,” says a contemporary narrator, “seized the
chalices and sacred vessels, which they had no right to touch, and
carried them with loud jeers in buckets and baskets to places where
they were dishonoured.” As in other churches and convents, the books
and papers on which any claims of the clergy against the council might
be based were selected with special care. While precious works of
art were thus being consigned to destruction,[1042] members of the
town-council were consoling the Canons by renewed assurances, that the
council “would protect both their life and their property.” Finally,
the two churches were closely watched for some while after, “lest
something might still be preserved in them, and to prevent such being
taken possession of by the clergy.”[1043]
When, in 1525, on the news of the Peasant Rising in Swabia and
Franconia, meetings were held by the peasants in the Erfurt district,
the adherents of the movement determined to enforce by violence
their demands even at Erfurt. Those in the town who sympathised with
Luther made common cause with the rebels.[1044] The magistrates were
undecided. They were not as yet exclusively Lutheran, but were anxious
to make the town independent of the Archbishop of Mayence, and to
secure for themselves the property and rights of the clergy. For the
most part the lower orders were unfavourable to the magistrates, and
therefore sided with the peasantry.
The peasants from the numerous villages which were politically regarded
as belonging to the Erfurt district demanded that they should be
emancipated from the burdens which they had to bear, and placed on a
footing of social equality with the lower class of Erfurt burghers.
With this they joined, as had been done elsewhere, religious demands
in the sense of Luther’s innovations. The movement was publicly
inaugurated by fourteen villages at a meeting held in a beerhouse on
April 25 or 26, 1525, at which the peasants bound themselves by an
oath taken with “uplifted right hand,” at the risk of their lives “to
support the Word of God and to combine to abolish the old obsolete
imposts.” When warned not to go to Erfurt, one of the leaders replied:
“God has enlightened us, we shall not remain, but go forward.” As soon
as they had come to an agreement as to their demands concerning the
taxes “and other heavy burdens which the Evangel was to assist them to
get rid of,” they collected in arms around the walls of Erfurt.[1045]
The magistrates then took counsel how to divert the threatening storm
and direct it against the clergy and the hated authorities of Mayence.
The remembrance of the “Pfaffensturm” which, in 1521, had served as a
means to allay the social grievances, was an encouragement to adopt a
similar course. As intermediary between council and peasants, Hermann
von Hoff, who has been mentioned above as an opponent of the Catholic
clergy and the rights of Mayence, took a leading part; one of his
principles was that “it is necessary to make use of every means, sweet
as well as bitter, if we are to allay so great a commotion and to avert
further mischief.”[1046]
In their perplexity the magistrates, through the agency of Hoff,
admitted the horde of peasants, only stipulating that they should
spare the property of the burghers, though they were to be free to
plunder the Palace of the Archbishop of Mayence, the “hereditary lord”
of the city, and also the toll-house. The peasants made their entry
on April 28 with that captain of the town whom Lang had invited to
draw the sword in the cause of the Evangel. Not only was the Palace
despoiled and the toll-house utterly destroyed, but the salt warehouses
and almost all the parsonages were attacked and looted. In the name
of “evangelical freedom” the plunderers vented all their fury on the
sacred vessels, pictures and relics they were still able to find.
“In the Archbishop’s Palace Lutheran preachers, for instance, Eberlin
of Günzburg, Mechler and Lang, mixed with the rabble of the town and
country and preached to them.” The preachers made no secret of being
“in league with the peasantry and the proletariate of the town.” The
clergy and religious were, however, to be made “to feel still more
severely”[1047] the effects of the alliance between the three parties.
At the first coming of the peasants, that quarters might be found for
them, “all the convents of monks and nuns were confiscated and their
inhabitants driven out into the street.” “Alas, how wretched did the
poor nuns look passing up and down the alleys of the town,”[1048]
says an eye-witness in an Erfurt chronicle. All those connected with
the Collegiate churches of St. Mary and St. Severus had peasants
billeted on them in numbers out of all proportion to their means. On
the morning of April 28, the service in the church of St. Mary’s was
violently interrupted. On the following Sunday, Eberlin, the apostate
Franciscan, commenced a course of sermons, which he continued for
several days with his customary vehemence and abuse. Exactly a week
after the coming of the peasants they passed a resolution in the
Mainzer Hof that the number of parishes should be reduced to ten,
including the Collegiate church of St. Mary’s, and that in all these
parish churches “the pure Word of God should be preached without any
additions, man-made laws, decrees or doctrines.” As for the pastors,
they were to be appointed and removed by the congregation. This was
equivalent to sentencing the old worship to death. On the same day
an order was issued to all the parish churches and monasteries to
abstain in future from reciting or singing Matins, Vespers or Mass.
The only man who was successful in evading the prohibition was Dr.
Conrad Klinge, the courageous guardian of the Franciscans, who at the
hospital continued to preach in the old way to crowded audiences.
Most of the beneficed clergy now quitted the town, as the council
refused to undertake any responsibility on their behalf; and as they
were forbidden to resume Divine Worship or even to celebrate Mass in
private, at the gate of the town they were subjected to a thorough
search lest they should have any priestly property concealed about
them. The magistrates sought to extort from the clergy who remained,
admissions which might serve as some justification for their conduct.
The post of preacher at the Dom, after it had been refused by Eberlin,
who had at length taken fright at the demagogic spirit now abroad, was
bestowed upon one of Luther’s immediate followers; the new preacher
was Dr. Johann Lang, an “apostate, renegade, uxorious monk,” as a
contemporary chronicler calls him.
All tokens of any authority of the Archbishop of Mayence in the town
were obliterated, and the archiepiscopal jurisdiction was declared
to be at an end. Eobanus Hessus wrote gleefully of the ruin of the
“popish” foe. “We have driven away the Bishop of Mayence, for ever.
All the monks have been expelled, the nuns turned out, the canons
sent away, all the temples and even the money-boxes in the churches
plundered; the commonwealth is now established and taxes and customs
houses have been done away with. Again we are now free.”[1049] Here
the statement that the clergy of Mayence had been expelled “for ever”
proved incorrect, for the rights of the over-lord were soon to be
re-established.
The magistrates were the first to fall; they were deposed, and the
lower-class burghers and the peasants replaced them by two committees,
one to represent the town, the other the country. In the latter
committee the excited ringleaders of the peasantry gave vent to
threatening speeches against the former municipal government, and
such wild words as “Kill these spectres, blow out their brains” were
heard.[1050]
The actual wording of the resolutions passed by both the committees
was principally the work of preachers of the new faith. Eberlin, too,
was consulted as to how best to draw up “the articles in accordance
with the Bible,” but he cautiously declined to have anything to
do with this, and declared that their demands seemed to him to be
exorbitant and that, “the Evangel would not help them.” The Lutheran
preachers also exerted themselves to bring about the reinstatement
of the magistrates. It is said that on April 30, in every quarter of
the town, a minister of the new doctrine preached to the citizens
and country people to the following effect: “You have now by your
good and Christian acts and deeds emancipated yourselves altogether
from the Court at Mayence and its jurisdiction, which, according to
Divine justice and Holy Scripture, should have no temporal authority
whatever. But in order that this freedom may not lead you astray,
there must be some authorities over you, and therefore you must for
the future recognise the worthy magistrates of Erfurt as your rulers,”
etc.[1051]
The words of the preachers prevailed, and the newly elected
councillors became the head of a sort of republic. The burdens of the
town increased to an oppressive extent, however, and the peasants who
had returned to their villages groaned more than ever under the weight
of the taxes. Financial difficulties continued to increase.
Yielding to the pressure of circumstances, the councillors gave their
sanction on May 9, 1525, “under the new seal,” to the amended articles,
twenty-eight in number, which had been drafted by the town and peasant
committees during the days of storm and stress. The very first article
made obligatory the preaching of “the pure Word of God,” and gave to
each congregation the right to choose its own pastors. “The gist of the
remaining articles was the appointment of a permanent administrative
council to give a yearly account, and to impose no new taxes without
the knowledge and sanction of both burghers and country subjects.”
In accepting the articles it was agreed that Luther’s opinion on them
should be ascertained, a decision which seems to show that the peasants
and burghers, though probably not the councillors themselves, reckoned
upon the weighty sanction of Wittenberg. Yet about May 4 Luther had
finished his booklet “Against the murderous Peasants” (above p. 201),
which was far from favourable to seditious movements such as that
of Erfurt. The council invited him by letter, on May 10, to come to
Erfurt with Melanchthon “and establish the government of the town,” as
Melanchthon puts it (“_ad constituendum urbis statum_”).[1052] Luther,
however, did not accept the invitation, and a month later the council
sent him a copy of the articles, requesting a written opinion. It is
difficult to believe that the Erfurt magistrates were not aware of
Luther’s growing bitterness against the peasants, which is attested
by the pamphlets he wrote at the time, or that they were incapable of
drawing the obvious conclusion as to his reply.[1053] “If the council
in taking this step,” says Eitner, “was relying on Luther’s known
attitude towards all revolutionary movements, and hoped to make an end
of the inconvenient demands of the people by means of the Reformer’s
powerful words, then their expectation was fully realised. Both
Luther’s letter (i.e. his answer to the council) and his written notes
on the copy of the articles sent him, are full of irony expressing
the displeasure of one whose advice was so much in request, but whose
interference in the peasant movement, in spite of his good intentions,
had thus far met with so little success.... The very articles which
the authors had most at heart were submitted by Luther to a relentless
and somewhat pointless criticism.... Thus we see in a comparatively
trivial case what has long been acknowledged of his action generally,
viz. that Luther’s interference in the Peasant-War cannot be altogether
justified.... His conduct shattered his reputation, both in the empire
and in his second native town [Erfurt], and paved the way for the
inevitable reaction.”[1054]
Luther, in his reply to the “Honourable, prudent and beloved” members
of the Erfurt council,[1055] declares in the very first sentences that
the Twenty-eight Articles were so “ill-advised” that “little good could
come of them” even were he present himself at Erfurt; he is of opinion
that certain people, who “are better off than they deserve,” are
putting on airs at the expense of the council, constitute a danger to
the common weal, and, with “unheard-of audacity and wickedness,” wish
to “turn things upside down.” Things must never be permitted to come
to such a pass that the councillors fear the common people and become
their servants; the common people must be quiet and entrust all to the
honourable magistrates to be set right, “lest the Princes have occasion
to take up arms against Erfurt on account of such unwarrantable
conduct.” Luther’s new sovereign, the Elector Johann, had just been
assisting in the suppression of the peasant rising. He was in entire
sympathy with the Wittenberg Professor, whom he so openly protected
and favoured, and doubtless they had discussed together the state of
affairs at Erfurt. In his written reply Luther asks whether it is not
“seditious” to refuse to pay the Elector the sum due to him for acting
as protector of the city. “Did they, then, esteem so lightly the Prince
and the security of the town, which, as a matter of fact, was something
not to be paid for in money?” Their demand really signified either that
“no one was to protect the town of Erfurt, or that the Princes were to
relinquish their claim to payment and yet continue to protect the town.”
The demand that the congregations of the parishes should appoint
their own pastors Luther considered particularly inadmissible; it
was “seditious that the parishes should wish to appoint and dismiss
their own pastors without reference to the councillors, as though the
councillors, in whom authority was vested, were not concerned in what
the town might do.” He insists that “the councillors have the right to
know what sort of persons are holding office in the town.”
Concerning some of the articles which dealt with taxes and imposts,
he points out that the business is not his concern, since these
are temporal matters. Of the proposal to re-establish the decayed
University of Erfurt he says: “This article is the best of all.” Of
two of the articles he notes: “Both these will do,” one being that,
for the future, openly immoral persons and prostitutes of all classes
were not to be tolerated, nor the common houses of public women, and
the other, that every debtor, whether to the council or the community,
should be “faithfully admonished no matter who he might be.” Concerning
the former of these two articles, however, we may remark, that a house
of correction for the punishment of light women had existed at Erfurt
under the Archbishop’s rule, but had been razed to the ground by the
very framers of the articles as soon as the peasants entered the town.
The principal thing, in Luther’s opinion, was to place the reins in
the hands of the magistrates, so that they may not sit there like an
“idol,” “bound hand and foot,” “while the horses saddle and bridle
their driver”; on the contrary, the aim of the articles seemed to
him to be, to reduce the councillors to be mere figureheads, and to
let “the rabble manage everything.”[1056] The “rabble” was just then
Luther’s bugbear.
The clergy who had quitted the city addressed, on May 30, a written
complaint to the Cardinal of Mayence, with an account of the
proceedings. On June 8 they also appealed to Johann, the Saxon Elector,
and to Duke George of Saxony, asking for their mediation, since they
were the “protectors and liege lords” of their Church. They also
did all they could with the council to recover their rights. The
councillors were, however, merely rude, and replied that the proud
priests might ask as much as they pleased but would get no redress.
This was what caused them to complain to their secular protectors that
they were being treated worse than the meanest peasant. Duke George
advised them to await the result of the negotiations which, as he knew,
were proceeding between the town of Erfurt and the Cardinal.
The Lutheran Elector, on the other hand, entered into closer relations
with the town-council of Erfurt, accepting with good grace their appeal
for help, their protestation of submission and obedience to his rule,
and the explicit assurance of the councillors at the Weimar conference,
on June 22, “that they would stand by the true and unfeigned Word of
God as pious and faithful Christians, and, in support of the same,
stake life and limb, with the help of God’s grace.” Thereupon the
Elector promised them, on June 23, that, “should they suffer any
inconvenience or attack because of the Word of God,” he, as their
“liege lord, ruler and protector,” would “stand by them and afford
them protection to the best of his ability,” since “the Word of God
and the Holy Evangel were likewise dear to him.” In point of fact he
did espouse the cause of the inhabitants of Erfurt, though, like Duke
George, it was his wish to see a peaceful settlement arrived at between
the town and its rightful over-lord.[1057]
The crafty councillors were actually negotiating with the
representatives of the Cardinal of Mayence at the very time when they
were seeking the protection of Saxony. The over-lord whose rights they
had outraged, through his vicar, had made known his peremptory demands
to the council on May 26, viz. entire restitution, damages, expulsion
of the Lutheran sect, re-establishment of the old worship and payment
of an indemnity. In the event of refusal he threatened them with the
armed interference of the Swabian League. The threat took effect, for
the Swabian League at that time was feared, and disturbers of the peace
had had occasion to feel its strength. The hint of armed interference
proved all the more effective when Duke George advised the inhabitants
of Erfurt to come to terms with the Mayence vicar and abolish
Lutheranism, as otherwise they would have to expect “something further.”
The council therefore assumed a conciliatory attitude towards Mayence,
and negotiations concerning the restitution to be made were commenced
at a conference at Fulda on August 25, 1525. After protracted delays
these terminated with the Treaty of Hammelburg on February 5, 1530.
This was, “from the political point of view, an utter defeat for the
inhabitants of Erfurt.”[1058] The council was not only obliged to
recognise the supremacy of the Archbishop, but also to re-erect all
buildings which had been destroyed, and to return everything that
had been misapplied; in addition to this, for the loss of taxes and
other revenues, the council was to pay the Archbishop 2500 gulden, and
to the two Collegiate churches, for losses sustained, 1200 marks of
fine silver. Both these churches were to be handed over for Catholic
worship. The reinstated over-lord, however, declared, for his part,
that, “As regards the other churches and matters of faith and ritual,
we hereby and on this occasion neither give nor take, sanction nor
forbid, anything to any party.”[1059]
Thus the rescinding of the innovations was for the present deferred,
and Luther had every reason to be satisfied with what had been effected
in a town to which he was attached by many links. How little gratitude
he showed to Archbishop Albert, and how fiercely his hatred and animus
against the cautious Cardinal would occasionally flame up, will be seen
from facts to be mentioned elsewhere.
Among the few Erfurt monks who, though expelled from their monastery,
remained true to their profession and to the Church, there was one who
attained to a great age and who is mentioned incidentally by Flacius
Illyricus. He well remembered the first period of Luther’s life in
Erfurt, his zeal for the Church and solicitude for the observance of
the Rule.[1060]
When considering Luther’s intervention in Erfurt matters, and his
personal action there, one thought obtrudes itself.
When Luther, now quite a different man and in vastly altered
circumstances, returned to Erfurt on the occasion of the visit referred
to above, is it not likely that he recalled his earlier life at Erfurt,
where he had spent happy days of interior contentment, as is shown
by the letters he wrote before his priestly ordination? In one of
the sermons he delivered there, in October, 1522, he refers to his
student days at Erfurt, but it does not appear that he ever seriously
reflected on the contrast presented by the convictions he held at that
time on the Church and his new ideas on faith and works. His allusions
to his Erfurt recollections are neither serious nor grateful towards
his old school. He speaks scoffingly of his learned Erfurt opponents,
some of whom he had been acquainted with previously, as “knights of
straw.” “Yes, they prate, we are Doctors and Masters.... Well, if a
title settles the matter, I also became a Bachelor _here_, and then
a Master and then again a Bachelor. I also went to school with them,
and I know and am convinced that they do not understand their own
books.”[1061]
Another circumstance must be taken into account. Whereas in later life
he can scarcely speak of his early years as a monk without telling his
hearers how he had passed from an excessive though purely exterior
holiness-by-works to his great discovery, viz. to the knowledge of a
gracious God, in 1522 he is absolutely silent regarding these “inward
experiences”; yet his very theme, viz. the contrast between the new
Evangel and the “sophistical holiness-by-works” preferred by Catholics,
and likewise the familiar Erfurt scene of his early life as a monk,
should, one would think, have invited him to speak of the matter
here.[1062]
While Luther was seeking to expel by force the popish “wolves,” more
especially the monks and nuns, from the places within reach of the new
Evangel, an enemy was growing up in his own camp in the shape of the
so-called fanatics; their existence can be traced back as far as his
Wartburg days, and his first misunderstanding with Carlstadt; these, by
their alliance with Carlstadt, who had been won over to their ideas,
and with the help of men like Thomas Münzer, had of late greatly
increased their power, thanks to the social conditions which were so
favourable to their cause.
6. Sharp Encounters with the Fanatics
If, on the one hand, the antagonism which Luther was obliged to display
towards the fanatical Anabaptists endangered his work, on the other the
struggle was in many respects to his advantage.
His being obliged to withstand the claim constantly made by the
fanatics to inspiration by the Holy Ghost served as a warning to him
to exercise caution and moderation in appealing to a higher call in
the case of his own enterprise; being compelled also to invoke the
assistance of the authorities against the fanatics’ subversion of the
existing order of things, he was naturally obliged to be more reticent
himself and to refrain from preaching revolution in the interests of
his own teaching. We even find him at times desisting from his claim to
special inspiration and guidance by the “spirit” in the negotiations
entered into on account of the Münzer business; this, however, he does
with a purpose and in opposition with his well-known and usual view.
In place of his real ideas, as expressed by him both before and after
this period, he, for a while, prefers to deprecate any use of force
or violence, and counsels his sovereign to introduce the innovations
gradually, pointing out the most suitable methods with patience and
prudence.
At first he was anxious that indulgence should be observed even in
dealing with the Anabaptists, but later on he invoked vigorously the
aid of the authorities.
In reality he himself was borne along by principles akin to those of
the fanatics whose ideas were, as a matter of fact, an outcome of his
own undertaking. His own writings exhibit many a trait akin to their
pseudo-mysticism. In the end his practical common sense was more than
a match for these pestering opponents, who for a time gave him so much
trouble. His learning and education raised him far above them and made
the religious notions of the Anabaptists abhorrent to him, while his
public position at the University, as well as his official and personal
relations with the sovereign, ill-disposed him to the demagogism of the
fanatics and their efforts to win over the common people to their side.
The fanatical aim of Thomas Münzer, the quondam Catholic priest who
had worked as a preacher of the new faith at Allstedt, near Eisleben,
since 1523, was the extermination by violence of all impious persons,
and the setting up of a Kingdom of God formed of all the righteous here
on earth, after the ideal of apostolic times. This tenet, rather than
rebaptism, was the mark of his followers. The rebaptism of adults,
which was practised by the sect, was merely due to their belief that an
active faith was essential for the reception of the sacraments, whilst
children of tender years were incapable of any faith at all.
As a beginning of the war against the “idolatry” of the old Church,
Münzer caused the Pilgrimage Chapel at Malderbach, near Eisleben,
where a miraculous picture of Our Lady was venerated, to be destroyed
in April, 1524. He then published a fiery sermon he had recently
preached, in which he exhorted the great ones and all friends of the
Evangel among the people at once to abolish Divine Worship as it had
hitherto been practised. The sermon was sent to the Electoral Court by
persons who were troubled about the rising, and who begged that Münzer
might be called to account. The sermon was also forwarded to Luther by
Spalatin, the Court Chaplain, evidently in order that Luther might take
some steps to obviate the danger. In point of fact, Luther’s eagle eye
took in the situation at a glance, and he at once decided to intervene
with the utmost vigour. With Münzer’s spirit he was already acquainted
through personal observation, so he said, and now he realised yet
more clearly that its effect would be to let the mob loose, with
the consequence that “heavenly spirits” of every sort would soon be
claiming to interfere in the direction of his own enterprise.
Luther at once composed a clever and powerful writing entitled “A
Circular to the Princes of Saxony Concerning the Spirit of Revolt.”
This appeared in the last days of July, 1524. To it we shall return
later, for it is of great psychological interest.
Münzer was dismissed from his situation, and went to Mühlhausen, where
the apostate monk, Heinrich Pfeifer, had already prepared the ground,
and thence to Nuremberg. At Nuremberg he brought out, in September,
1524, his “Hochverursachte Schutzrede und Antwort wider das geistlose
sanftlebende Fleisch zu Wittenberg” in reply to Luther’s Circular,
above mentioned. He then recommenced his restless wanderings through
South Germany and Switzerland. He remained for some time with the
ex-priest and professor of theology, Balthasar Hubmaier, then pastor of
the new faith at Waldshut. On his return to Mühlhausen, in December,
he put into execution his fantastic communistic scheme, which lasted
until he and the seditious peasants were defeated in the encounter
at Frankenhausen on May 15, 1525; his execution for a while put an
end to the endeavours of the fanatics. Nevertheless, in other places,
more particularly at Münster during the famous Reign of Terror from
1532-1535, the fanaticism of the Anabaptists again broke out under even
worse forms.
The short circular, “On the Spirit of Revolt,”[1063] referred to
above as a document curiously illustrative of Luther’s psychology, is
not important in the sense of furnishing a true picture of his inner
thoughts and feelings. Conveying as it does a petition and admonition
to the Princes, it is naturally worded politically and with great
caution, and was also manifestly intended for the general public.
Nevertheless its author, even where he clothes his thoughts in the
strange and carefully chosen dress best calculated to serve the purpose
he had in view, affords us an interesting glimpse into his mode of
action. He also shows throughout the whole circular in what light he
wishes to see his own higher mission regarded.
Luther commences his writing with a complaint regarding Satan. It is
his habit, he says, when nothing else avails, “to attack the Word of
God by means of false spirits and teachers.” Hence, because he now
perceives that the Evangel, though assailed by “raging Princes” (the
opponents of the Saxon Princes), was nevertheless growing and thriving
all the more, he had made a nest at Allstedt and caused his spirits
there to proclaim that, “it was a bad thing that faith and charity and
the Cross of Christ were being preached at Wittenberg. You must hear
God’s voice yourself, they say, and suffer God’s action in you and
feel how heavy your load is. It is all nonsense about the Scriptures
[so Luther makes them say], all ‘Bible, Bubble, Babble,’” etc.
Secondly, a charge which was likely to weigh as much or even more with
the Princes, he proceeds, “the same spirit would not allow the matter
to remain one of words, but intended to strike with the fist, to
oppose the authorities by force and to bring about an actual revolt.”
As against this he points out very skilfully, that, according to God’s
ordinance, the Princes are the “rulers of the world,” and that Christ
had said: “My Kingdom is not of this world” (John xviii. 36). Hence
his urgent exhortation to them is “to prevent such disorders and to
anticipate the revolt.”
As to the spirit on which the fanatics pride themselves, it had not
yet, so Luther declares, been proved, but “goes about working its own
sweet will” without being willing to vindicate itself before two or
three witnesses; Münzer, according to Luther’s previous experience of
him, had no wish to present himself at Wittenberg (to be examined);
“he was afraid of the soup and preferred to stay among his own
followers, who say yes to all his excellent speeches.”
“If I, who am so deficient in the spirit and hear no heavenly voices,”
so he humbly assures the Princes, “had uttered such words against
my Papists, how they would have cried out on me ‘Gewunnen’ and have
stopped my mouth! I cannot glorify myself or defy others with such
great words; I am a poor, wretched man and far from carrying through
my enterprise in a high-handed way, I began it with great fear and
trembling, as St. Paul, who surely might have boasted of the heavenly
voice, confesses concerning himself (1 Cor. ii.).”[1064]
Luther now comes to the proof that, unlike the fanatics, his cause was
from God, that it was very different from Münzer’s enterprise, that he
was being unfairly attacked by this rival, and that consequently his
sovereign should support his undertaking as he had previously done.
Here he undoubtedly meets with greater difficulties than when he made
the off-hand statement that Münzer’s spirit was a “lying devil, and an
evil devil,” and that “storming and fanaticism” and acts of violence by
the rabble “Mr. Omnes” must not be permitted.
From the burden of proof for his own mission from above, consisting
in many instances of mere hints and allusions, we may select the
following considerations submitted by him to his sovereign.
First: I proceed “without boasting and defiance,” with humility,
indeed with “fear.” “How humbly, to begin with, did I attack the Pope,
how I implored and besought, as my first writings testify!”--We have
seen that Luther’s writings and the steps he took from the outset
of the struggle “testify,” as a matter of fact, to something quite
different. Here he says never a word of the communications he believed
he had received from the Spirit of God and his experience of being
carried away by God. We may also add that his appeal to the example
of Paul in the passage of Corinthians referred to above, when speaking
of the “trembling and fear” he endured, was scarcely in place, since
it was no question of actual fear in the case of the Apostle, as
Paul, shortly afterwards, in the sublime consciousness of his Divine
mission goes on to say: we are God’s coadjutors ... according to the
grace of God which is given to me as a wise architect I have laid the
foundation (1 Cor. iii. 9, 10). Paul merely states, that he is unable
to speak to the Corinthians as to spiritual men, because they were
still “babes in Christ,” not as though anything were wanting in him,
for the testimony “of the Spirit and of power” never failed him.
A second point upon which Luther lays great stress is, that, though I
was of so humble and “poor a spirit” I nevertheless performed “noble
and exalted spiritual works,” which Münzer certainly has not done.
I stood up for the Evangel, which I preached in an “honourable and
manly” fashion; indeed “my very life was in danger”: “I have had to
risk life and limb for it and I cannot but glory in it,” he says,
again with reference to Paul, “as St. Paul also was obliged to do;
though it is foolishness and I should prefer to leave it to the lying
spirits.”[1065] What exactly are the instances that he is so unwilling
to relate of his noble scorn for death? “I stood up at Leipzig to
dispute before a most dangerous assembly. I went to Augsburg without
escort to appear before my greatest enemy. And I took my stand at
Worms before the Emperor and the whole realm, knowing well beforehand
that the pledge of a safe conduct would be broken, and that savage
malice and cunning were directed against me. But, poor and weak as I
then was, my will was nevertheless so determined that, had I known
there were as many devils waiting for me as there were tiles on the
roofs of Worms, I should still have ridden thither, and yet I had as
yet heard nothing of heavenly voices and ‘God’s burdens and works’”
(such as the fanatics pretended they had experienced). He commits his
cause to Christ the Lord, so he declares, if He will support him then
all will be well, but “before men and any assembly he is ready to
answer boldly for himself” (as he had done at Leipzig, Augsburg and
Worms).
Münzer, in his “Schutzrede,” was not slow to answer Luther’s
“boasting” concerning his three appearances in public. It must be
touched upon here for the sake of completeness, although it must be
borne in mind that it is the utterance of an opponent. Münzer calls
Luther repeatedly, and not merely on account of this boasting, “Dr.
Liar” and “Lying Luther.” He says to him: “Why do you throw dust in
the eyes of the people? you were very well off indeed at Leipzig. You
rode out of the city crowned with gilly-flowers and drank good wine
at Melchior Lother’s? Nor were you in any danger at Augsburg [as a
matter of fact every precaution had been taken], for Staupitz the
oracle stood at your side.... That you appeared before the Empire at
Worms at all was thanks to the German nobles whom you had cajoled and
honeyed, for they fully expected, that, by your preaching you would
obtain for them Bohemian gifts of monasteries and foundations which
you are now promising to the Princes. Therefore if you had wavered at
Worms, you would have been stabbed by the nobles sooner than allowed
to go free, as everyone knows.... You made use of wiles and cunning
towards your own followers. You allowed yourself to be taken captive
by your own councillors [and brought to the Wartburg] and made out
that you were ill-used. Anyone ignorant of your knavery would no
doubt swear by all the Saints that you were a pious Martin. Sleep
softly, dear lump of flesh. I should prefer to sniff you roasting in
your defiance under the anger of God.”[1066] The falsity of Luther’s
assertion, that the promise of a safe conduct had not been kept
at Worms, has been already pointed out (p. 69). The reason of his
appearing at Augsburg without an escort for the journey there and
back, was, that the Elector trusted Cardinal Cajetan and did not wish
Luther to apply for one.
In proof of his being in the right Luther, in the third place, points
emphatically to his learning and his success. His cause was thus
based on a much firmer foundation than that of the Allstedt fanatic.
“I know and am certain that by the Grace of God I am more learned in
the Scripture than all the sophists and Papists, but God has thus far
graciously preserved me from pride, and will continue to preserve
me.” “I have done more harm to the Pope without the use of fists
than a powerful king could have done”; “my words have emptied many a
convent.” These fanatics “utilise our victory and enjoy it, take wives
and relax papal laws, though it was not they who bore the brunt of the
fighting.”
Fourthly: “I know that we who possess and understand the
Gospel--though we be but poor sinners--have the right spirit, or as
Paul says [Rom. viii: 23] ‘_primitias spiritus_,’ the first-fruits
of the spirit, though we may not have the fulness of the spirit....
We know what faith, charity and the cross are.... Hence we know and
can judge whether a doctrine is true or false, just as we are able to
discern and judge this lying spirit,” etc.
Fifthly we must consider the fruits of our teaching. These are those
mentioned by St. Paul (Gal. v. 22 f., Rom. viii. 13), viz: “charity,
joy, peace, patience, benignity, goodness, longanimity and mildness”;
Paul also says, “that the deeds of the flesh must be mortified and the
old Adam, together with all his works, crucified with Christ. In a
word, the fruit of our spirit is the keeping of the ten commandments
of God.” The Allstedt spirit, he adds, ought really to bring forth yet
higher fruits since it purports to be a higher spirit. If fruits are
lacking then surely we also may admit that, “alas, we do not as much
as we ought.”--It is notorious enough that Luther might have made
still greater admissions of this sort. Nevertheless, he is able to
point to “abundant fruit of the spirit produced by God’s Grace among
our followers,” and is ready, “if it comes to boasting,” to set his
own person, “which is the meanest and most sinful of all, against all
the fruits of the Allstedt spirit, however greatly the fanatics may
blame my life.” In order, however, the better to safeguard himself on
this point, he remarks that, “on account of the life, the doctrine”
must not be condemned, as this spirit “takes offence at our feeble
life.” It appears that Münzer had spoken very strongly against Luther
and the goings on at Wittenberg.
The one sentence in Luther’s writing which must have made the deepest
impression on his princely readers, and on their courtiers, was that
concerning the appropriation of the churches and convents, which had
been surrendered in consequence of the innovations. “Let the Rulers of
the land do what they please with them!” This invitation, in the mind
of those in power, was quite sufficient to make up for the deficiencies
of the other arguments and to be considered as an irrefragable proof of
the justice of the cause.
Luther’s higher mission being in his own opinion so firmly established
that he had no cause to fear any man, he goes so far in his Circular
as to propose that his Anabaptist foes should not be hindered. “Do not
scruple to let them preach freely!” He for his part will gird himself
for the fight, and we know of how much the force and violence of his
eloquence was capable. Confident that no one could stand against his
written or spoken word, he cries: “Let the spirits fall upon one
another and fight it out.... Where there is a struggle and a battle
some must fall and be wounded, but whoever fights manfully receives the
crown.” As a matter of fact, however, he was speedily to withdraw this
too-confident challenge; indeed, as we shall see, he later went so far
as to demand the infliction of the death-penalty upon those who dared
to differ in doctrine from himself, viz. the Anabaptists and fanatics,
establishing the necessity of this on passages from the Old Testament
which speak of the execution of false prophets.[1067]
Münzer’s party too had appealed in defence of their violent work of
destruction to the precepts of the Old Testament (Gen. xi. 2; Deut.
vii. 12; xii. 2, 3: “Destroy the altars and break down the images,”
etc.). Hence Luther deemed it necessary to point out in his Circular
against them, that “a certain Divine command then existed for such acts
of destruction which is not given to us at the present day.”
It was no uncommon thing for the Bible to furnish such matters of
dispute for the warring elements; in the question of the Divine
commission it ever occupied the foreground.
Luther solemnly raised the Bible on high and, to the Anabaptists and
other teachers of the new faith who differed from him, protested that
he and he alone had discovered the Word of God and was the appointed
teacher. Yet all those whom he addressed said the selfsame thing and
even maintained that they could show better proofs of their mission
than Luther. How, then, was the question to be decided?
The Catholic Church has never permitted individual doctors to set up
their own as the authentic interpretation of the Bible; she declared
herself to be the only divinely appointed supreme authority qualified
to determine the true sense of the written Word of God, she herself
having received the living Word of God, together with authorisation
to guard the whole body of Divine teaching, the written inclusive, in
its primitive purity, and to proclaim it with an infallible voice. She
appeals to the words of Christ: “Teach all nations,” “He that hears
you, hears me,” “You shall be witnesses for me to the ends of the
earth,” “I am with you, even to the consummation of the world.”[1068]
Outside this safe rule there is nothing but arbitrary judgment and
confusion. Luther and those he called “heretics” accused each other of
the most flagrant arbitrariness, and not without cause. They applied to
each other in derision the phrase: “Bible, Bubble, Babble,” for indeed
it was a confusion of tongues. It was not merely Luther who applied the
phrase to Münzer’s party, for, according to Agricola, Münzer mocked the
Lutherans with the same words when they ventured to attack him with
biblical texts. The Anabaptist Conrad Grebel, of Zürich, writing to
Münzer on September 5, 1524, says: “You have on your side the Bible,
which Luther derides as ‘Bible, Bubble, Babble, etc.’”[1069]
No one could prevent the fanatics from availing themselves of the
freedom of private interpretation which Luther had set up as a
principle. Münzer, no less than Luther, respected the Bible as such,
and knew how to make use of it skilfully. He also, declared, exactly
as Luther had done, that he taught the people “only according to Holy
Scripture,” and, “please God, never preached his own conceits.”[1070]
According to Luther’s own principles, Münzer’s faction had also a
perfect right to make the “outward Word” (the Bible) agree with the
“inward Word,” which they believed they heard. When Luther, at a later
date, insists so strongly on the need of accepting the outward Word as
well as the inner worth, this was really a retreat on his part (see
vol. iv., xxviii. 1); moreover, by the outward Word he here means the
Bible as he explained it.
To force those who were unwilling to accept the new, purely personal
and subjective interpretation, and to do so without the authority
of the Church, whose claims had been definitively discarded, was to
exercise an intolerable spiritual despotism. We can well understand
how Münzer came to complain, in one of his letters, that Luther in his
Circular-Letter “ramps in as ferociously and hideously as a mighty
tyrant.”[1071] He could well complain in particular of Luther’s
demand, that the spirit which spoke in Münzer should submit to an
examination before the Lutheran tribunal at Wittenberg previous to
being acknowledged as a spirit which had been duly called. This Luther
required, assuring his followers that Münzer’s party was execrated
even by the Papists, that it had no real commission and could show
no miracles on its behalf. He was anxious to retain for himself the
“first-fruits of the Spirit.” To this the retort of his foes was that
the first-fruits of the Spirit were theirs, belonging to them by
virtue of heavenly testimony. This fellow Luther wishes to ascribe the
first-fruits of the Spirit to himself, wrote Grebel to Münzer, and yet
he composes such a “wicked booklet.” I know his intentions; they are
thoroughly tyrannical. “I see he means to give you up to the headsman’s
axe and hand you over to the Princes.”[1072]
And yet, in spite of other differences between himself and the
Anabaptists, Luther found himself in agreement with them not merely
on the principle of free interpretation of the Bible but also in the
stress he lays on the inspiration from above supposed to be bestowed
on all. Luther did not deny that individual inspiration, the “whisper”
from on high, as he termed it, was one of the means by which faith
might be arrived at; on the contrary, the only question for him was how
far this might go.
Luther was fond of insisting that only a heart tried by temptation was
able to arrive at the understanding of the words of Scripture and of
religious truths in general. Münzer, too, demands this preliminary on
the part of the would-be theologian, though he does so in rather more
fantastic language. Study of Tauler’s mysticism had filled his mind,
even more than Luther’s, with confused notions. On the appearance of
Luther’s Circular-Letter, he offered to submit to an examination of
his spirit before the whole of Christendom. Those were to be summoned
from all nations who had “endured overwhelming temptations in matters
of faith and had arrived at despair of heart.” These words we find in
a letter addressed to the Elector of Saxony, August 3, 1524.[1073]
Luther, however, considered himself far better acquainted with the
abyss of interior sufferings than any other; Münzer must not be allowed
to interfere with him here. “We must not be bold in the Word of God,”
but “treat Holy Scripture with reverence and great fear; this the
rabble and the impudent spirits do not do.” Such things (what Christ
says concerning the new birth) “cannot be understood, unless a man has
experienced it, and himself undergone a spiritual regeneration.”[1074]
Luther, in point of fact, met the Anabaptists half-way on that doctrine
of baptism from which they took their name. Rebaptism he naturally
rejected, but he nevertheless advocated the principle for which the
Anabaptists stood, namely, that, for the reception of baptism,
faith is necessary on the part of the catechumen. To overcome the
difficulties which presented themselves in the case of children who
had not yet reached the use of reason, he had recourse to some curious
explanations. There was no help for it; they also must believe.
Probably they are enlightened at the moment of baptism, which, in
accordance with the Church’s ancient usage, must be administered to
them, and, by some Almighty action, are penetrated with that perception
of faith which is essential for the reception of this absolutely
necessary sacrament, After all, he argues, why should reason be
essential for faith? Is not reason really hostile to faith? Strange
indeed were the subterfuges in which he took refuge in order to evade
the consequences which Münzer and his party rightly drew from his
theses.[1075]
But in spite of all they might have in common, and notwithstanding his
being the actual father of the detestable Anabaptist error, he felt
himself removed far above the fanatics by a sense of superiority and
Divine support which no words could adequately express.
His conviction regarding his own supreme mission and his great gifts
and achievements, which increased in strength as he advanced in years,
derived further encouragement from the utter madness of the fanatics
and his success in overthrowing them.
No sooner had the unhappy Münzer been made prisoner and, after a
contrite Catholic confession, been beheaded at Mühlhausen, together
with Heinrich Pfeifer, a priest, and twenty-four rebels, than Luther
proclaimed the event throughout Germany in a pamphlet as a plain
judgment of God, which set a seal on his own Evangel and confirmed him
as the teacher of the truth.
In this work, entitled “A frightful story and Divine Judgment,”[1076]
he says: Had God spoken through him “this [his fall] would not have
occurred. For God does not lie but keeps His Word. Since then Thomas
Münzer has fallen, it is plain that he spoke and acted through the
devil while pretending to do so in the name of God.... More than five
thousand,” he continues, “rushed headlong to destruction of body
and soul. Alas! the pity of it all! This was what the devil wanted,
and what he is seeking in the case of the seditious peasants.” He
protests that, “he feels sorry that the people should thus have
perished in body and soul,” but he cannot help endorsing their eternal
reprobation, as far as in him lies; “to the end they remained hardened
in infidelity, perjury and blasphemy,”[1077] therefore if God has so
manifestly punished these “noxious, false prophets,” this must serve
to teach us to have a great regard for the “true Word of God.”
“I do not boast of an exalted spirit,” Luther says, comparing himself
with the fanatics and their like, but “I do glory in the great gifts
and graces of my God and of His Spirit, and I do so rightly, so I
think, and not without cause.... Münzer is indeed dead, but his spirit
is not yet exterminated.... The devil is not asleep, but continues to
send out sparks.... These preachers cannot control themselves, the
spirit has blinded them and taken them captive, therefore they are not
to be trusted.... Beware and take heed, for Satan has come among the
children of God!”[1078]
His self-confidence makes it as clear as daylight to him that he is the
true interpreter of the Word of God, whether against the survivors of
Münzer’s party or against the fickle phantasies of Carlstadt; this we
see particularly in the caustic, eloquent tracts he launched against
the latter: “To the Christians of Strasburg against the fanatics” and
“Against the heavenly Prophets.”
In the latter, a famous book which will be dealt with later when we
have to speak of Carlstadt (vol. iii., xix. 2), Luther attacks the
fanatics along the whole line and unconditionally lays claim to a
higher authority for his own personal illumination and his Evangel.
Yet he does not omit to point out, in view of the fact that so many
repudiated this Evangel, that its power can only be felt by those whose
consciences have been “humbled and perturbed.”
Never for a moment does he relinquish his claim, that his
interpretation of the Bible is the only true one:--
“What else was wanting in Münzer,” he says, “than that he did not
rightly expound the Word?... He should have taught the pure Gospel!...
It is a great art to be able to distinguish rightly between the Law
and the Gospel.... God’s Word is not all of the same sort, but is
diverse.... Whoever is able to distinguish rightly between the Law
and the Gospel is given a high place and called a Doctor of Holy
Scripture, for without the Holy Ghost it is impossible to make this
distinction. This I have experienced myself.... No Pope, or false
Christian, or fanatic, is able to separate these two [the Law and
the Gospel] one from the other.”[1079] But because he had the “Holy
Spirit,” Luther was able to make this supremely great discovery, and
found thereby the key to the Scriptures, on which alone he builds.
“I, for my part, have, by the grace of God, now effected so much that,
thanks be to God, boys and girls of fifteen know more of Christian
doctrine than all the Universities and Doctors previously did.” “I
have set men’s consciences at rest concerning penance, baptism,
prayer, crosses, life, death and the Sacrament of the Altar, and
also ordered the question of marriage, of secular authority, of the
relations of father and mother, wife and child, father and son, man
and maid--in short, every condition of life, so that all know how to
live and how to serve God according to one’s state.”[1080]
Given his achievements, Luther was not going too far when he spoke of
himself repeatedly as a “great doctor.”[1081] He also showed himself
extremely sensitive, as we shall soon see, to the attempts of the
sectarians and fanatics to deprive him of the honour of the first
place, to discredit his discovery of the Gospel, and either to crown
themselves with his laurels and possess themselves of the fruits of
his struggles, or, at his expense, to invent novelties and launch them
on the world. Seeing that Christ is “destroying the Papacy” through
him and is bringing it to its “_exspiravit_,” i.e. to the last gasp,
he is naturally annoyed to learn that there are other spokesmen of the
new faith who refuse to follow him without question, and who cause
“a great falling away from his preaching and much slanderous talk.
There are some, who after having read a page or two or listened to a
sermon, without further ado take it on themselves to be overbearing
and to reproach others, telling them that their conduct is not that
of the followers of the Gospel.” This, he declares, he himself had
“never taught anyone,” rather, as St. Paul also had done, he had
“strictly forbidden it. They merely act in this way because they are
desirous of novelties.... They misapply Holy Scripture to their own
conceits.”[1082]
All this he says when actually declaring that he has no wish to set
himself above anyone, or to be “any man’s master.”
There was scarcely one among the many teachers of the innovations who
dared to differ from him whom Luther did not liken to the devil. “I
have had more than thirty doctors of the fanatics opposing me,” he
said on one occasion, “all anxious to be my instructors”; all these
he had driven before him like chaff and vanquished the “devil” in
them.[1083]
“Münzer, Carlstadt, Campanus and such fellows, together with the
factious spirits and sects, are merely devils incarnate, for all their
efforts are directed to doing harm and avenging themselves.”[1084]
Himself he looks upon as the champion of God against the devil,
raised, as it were, to the pinnacle of the temple. It is the devil
whom by heavenly power he repels and shames in the fanatics who arise
in his camp. “Satan,” he says to them, “cannot conceal himself.”[1085]
“Such fellows are beguiled by the devil.”[1086] Johann Agricola, a
comrade of his, he delivers over to Satan, because he differed from
him in some points of doctrine: “He goes on his way, all devoted to
Satan as he is, sowing seeds of enmity against us.”[1087] Luther
warns him that he may become a martyr, but like Arius and Satan, whom
Christ punishes. “Good God, what utter malice! These heretics say of
me what the Manichæans said of Christ, viz. that Christ had indeed the
Holy Spirit but only in an imperfect degree, whereas they themselves
possessed it in its perfection.”[1088]
Caspar Schwenckfeld, like Agricola, he esteemed an heretical
theologian desirous of innovations, “a mad fool possessed by the
devil”; “it is the devil who spews and excretes his works.” Luther’s
malediction on this heretical devil runs, “May God’s curse light on
thee, Satan, thy spirit which called thee forth, be with thee to
thy destruction.”[1089] Michael Stiefel, the Lutheran preacher and
fanatic, is also no less possessed of the devil. “It is soon over
with a man,” Luther laments over this old friend, “when the devil
possesses him in this way.”[1090] Even Zwingli and the Zwinglians are
also possessed through and through by the devil and are the servants
of Satan.[1091] All who do not agree with him, but set up their own
ideas, merely show that the devil is at work in the world. “This is
how the work of the devil goes on. In twenty years I have met more
than fifty sectarians desirous of teaching me, but God has preserved
me, He Who said of St. Paul, ‘I will show him how great things he must
suffer for my name’s sake’” (Acts ix. 16).[1092]
It is these men whom the devil [of pride] carries high up “in the air
and sets on the pinnacle of the temple.”[1093]
We must cut short this string of Luther’s utterances and quote some of
the words of his opponents. What Thomas Münzer said in reply is the
reverse of feeble, but at least it gives us a good idea of the way in
which controversies were conducted in those days. Thomas Münzer, in his
printed reply to Luther referred to above,[1094] is manifestly angry
that Luther should stamp all who contradict him as devils.
“That most ambitious, lying scribe Dr. Luther,” he says, becomes, “the
longer he lives, more of an arrogant fool, shields himself behind
Holy Scripture and utilises it to his advantage in the most deceitful
manner.”[1095]
The greatest of all crimes is that “no attention is paid to the
commands of the Pope of Wittenberg,” Münzer remarks sarcastically;
Luther was putting himself up “in place of the Pope,” while at the
same time “he curried favour with the Princes”; “you, you new Pope,
make them presents of convents and churches.” “You have distracted
all Christendom with a false religion and now, when it is necessary,
are unable to control it” except with the help of the rulers. He was
introducing “a new system of logic-chopping with the Word of God”; he
is desirous of “managing everything by the Word” and exalts himself
as though he had not come into the world in the ordinary way but had
“sprung from the brain.” He speaks of “our safeguard and protection”
as though he himself were a Prince; with his “fantastic reason” he was
working mischief, while making a great display of humility; he makes
much of his own “simplicity,” but this resembled that of the fox, or
of an onion which has nine skins. All his adversaries he labelled as
“devils,” but he himself raved and ranted like a hound of hell, and
if he did not raise an open revolt this was merely because, like the
serpent, he glided over the rocks.[1096]
Equally remarkable are the words addressed to Luther by Valentine
Ickelsamer, one of the leaders of the fanatics. He tells Luther that
his preaching only goes half-way, for it proclaims the right of
private judgment in things Divine, but not for all men, and “confuses
the people” by its want of logic and instability. Ickelsamer himself
is determined to speak, “because the Evangel gives us freedom of
belief and the power of judging.” Not only does he find numerous
“Scriptural utterances which are against Luther’s views,” but he also
inveighs strongly against the gigantic pride which leads Luther to
“desire that everyone should look to him”; his self-exaltation leads
him to commit the gravest “injustice and tyranny.” “Settle yourself
comfortably in the Papal Chair” he cries to Luther, “for after all you
only want to listen to your own singing.” Your obstinacy is such, he
says, that you would have no scruple in contradicting the statement
“Christ is God” “were you unfavourably disposed” towards its author.
Would it not be a good thing if “Our Lord God were to smash the idols
and set you up in their place?”[1097]
In spite of all remonstrances Luther continued, nevertheless, to
compare his adversaries to mere devils. The devil beguiles them to
employ their reason, to seek the reason (“_Quare_”) of the articles of
faith. Such words are tantamount to an attack on theology in general.
“The ‘_Quare_,’” he says, “leads us into all the unhappiness and heresy
by which our first parents were deceived by the devil in Paradise....
Verily we deserve to be crowned with coltsfoot for being so foolish and
falling so readily into the snare when the devil comes along with his
old ‘_Quare_.’”[1098]
“They are lost [the fanatics], they are the devil’s own.”[1099]
On the other hand, Luther makes the devil confirm his own mission.
“The devil has been dreading this for years and smelt the roast from
afar; he also sent forth many prophecies against it, some of which
apply to me so that I often marvel at his great malice. He would also
have liked,to kill me.”[1100] The devil desired Luther’s death simply
in order to rid himself of his fine preaching.
Another familiar thought which seemed to have an irresistible
attraction for him frequently intervenes to confirm this theory. My
interior sufferings, he says repeatedly, and my struggles with the
devil, set the seal of most certain assurance on my teaching, and this
seal the fanatics do not possess.
Here comes Campanus, he says of a refractory theologian in his ranks,
and “makes himself out to be the only man who is sure of everything”;
“he prides himself on being certain upon all matters and of never
being at a loss”; Campanus condemns him as a “liar and diabolical
man,” and of this he was “as sure as that God is God.” And yet this
Campanus has “never passed through any struggle, nor had a tussle
with the devil, and actually glories in the fact.”[1101] On the other
hand, he himself, he says, had been “tried by the devil” and proved by
“temptation”; that is the true test and is essential for every real
“student of theology”; “for as soon as God’s Word dawns upon you, the
devil is sure to try you, and in this way you become a doctor in very
truth.”[1102]
“But those whom the devil takes captive by false doctrine and a
factious spirit, he holds tight. He takes possession of their heart,
making them deaf and blind, so that they neither see nor hear
anything, and do not pay any heed to the plain, clear and manifest
testimony of Holy Scripture; for they are so tightly caught in his
clutches that they cannot be torn away.”[1103] At first heretics do
not see where Satan is taking them. “They put forward the antecedent
most devoutly and with a simulated peace of conscience. Thereupon
the devil draws a consequence, which they [the factious spirits] had
never dreamt of. Johann Agricola, for instance, does not see the
consequence. But the devil is a capital dialectician and has already
built up the syllogism, antecedent, consequence and all. And yet we
still lull ourselves into a false security and think that the devil
is not governing the world.”[1104] Luther refers the prejudice of
heretics in favour of their errors to a kind of bewitchment by the
devil, for if the devil is able to bewitch the bodily senses, as
Luther was convinced he could, then he will also be able, “expert and
dangerous adept” as he is, to take captive the hearts and consciences
of men “with still greater ease.” “What is nothing but a lie, heresy
and horrid darkness, they take for plain, pure truth and are not to be
moved from their ideas by any exhortations or remonstrance.... They
behave like those parents in the legend of St. Macarius, who, owing
to a delusion of the devil, took their daughter for a cow, until they
were at last set free from the spell.... Thus the devil in such people
effects by false doctrine what he is otherwise wont to bring about by
means of delusive pictures and fancies.”[1105]
We will here conclude with a family scene. On one occasion, in 1544,
Luther, in the presence of Catherine von Bora, poured out his ire
against Schwenckfeld for his want of acquiescence in his doctrines:
“He is ‘_attonitus_’ [moonstruck], like all the fanatics,” he says of
him. “He spurts the grand name of Christ over the people and wants me
to bow low before him. I thank God I am better off, however, for I know
my Christ well, and have no need of this man’s filth.” Here Catherine
interrupted him: “But, my dear Sir, that is really too rude.” Luther
replied: “They are my masters in rudeness. It is necessary to speak so
to the devil; he can make an end of this fanaticism,” etc.... “He leads
the Churches astray, though from God he has received neither command
nor mission! The mad, devil-possessed fool does not even know what he
is talking about.... Of the muck the devil spews and excretes through
his booklet I have had quite enough.”[1106]
7. Progress of the Apostasy. Diets of Spires (1529) and Augsburg (1530)
The Imperial Edict, issued after the Diet of Nuremberg and dated
February 8, 1523, had decreed, that the Gospel should be preached
agreeably to the teaching of the Christian Church.
At the Diet of Nuremberg, in 1524, it had been enacted that the edict
against Luther promulgated at Worms was to stand and to be enforced
as far as was possible; the Pope was also to be requested to summon
a General Council to meet in Germany, but, before this, it was to be
decided at a religious convention, meeting at Spires in the same year,
what attitude should be assumed towards the doctrines called into
question. Against this decree Luther published an angry, turbulent
pamphlet entitled, “Two unequal and contradictory commands.”[1107] He
therein showed that the orders of the Diet were self-contradictory; for
it was absurd to uphold the Edict of Worms in all its severity and yet
at the same time to reserve the decision regarding Luther’s doctrine to
the assembly at Spires.[1108]
He went, however, much further and attacked the authority of the
Estates and of the Emperor. On the other hand, at the conclusion of the
Diet, the Dukes William and Lewis of Bavaria, and twelve bishops of
South Germany, at the instance of Lorenzo Campeggio, the Papal Legate,
and Archduke Ferdinand, had met together and agreed to carry out the
Edict of Worms as far as they were able, and at the same time to
inaugurate a wholesome reform of morals amongst both clergy and people.
“By means of this agreement the temporal and spiritual Princes hoped
to maintain unimpaired the religious unity of the German Nation and to
insure internal tranquillity in their dominions.”[1109] Dissension for
a while prevented others from joining the league.
The indecision of the Diets was due not only to lack of unity among
the Catholics, but to a variety of other causes: to political
considerations, the state of general unrest, the need of adopting
measures against the Turks, the apprehensions of the Estates, and,
finally, to religious indifference.
The Diet of Spires, in 1526, decreed in language no less ambiguous,
that the Edict of Worms was to remain in force until a General Council
could be summoned, and that the sovereigns and Estates of the Empire
should “live, govern and conduct themselves as they hoped to answer
for it to God and His Majesty [the Emperor].” This cannot be read “as
implying that the evangelicals were given a formal right to separate
themselves from the communion with the Church and to set about the work
of reformation on their own account.”[1110]
The Diet held subsequently at Spires, in 1529, opposed the
anti-Catholic interpretation placed on the resolutions of 1526 and the
way in which they had been enforced. It pointed out the inconveniences
which had been their result, and sought earnestly to improve the
position of affairs.[1111] The article of 1526, it declared, had
been interpreted, during the time that had since elapsed, in a most
regrettable manner, “as an excuse for all sorts of shocking new
doctrines and sects” and had served as a cloak for “apostasy, strife,
dissension and wickedness”; wherefore it was to be rescinded and
certain other enactments put into force.
Then follow the resolutions of the Diet of Spires, accepted by the
Catholic majority and published with the Imperial sanction, against
which the Lutheran Princes and Estates raised the “Protest” from which
Protestantism took its name.
Foremost among these resolutions is the following: Those who had
previously adhered to the Edict of Worms, “are determined to abide by
the same until the future Council shall be convened and to insist upon
their subjects doing so too.” Further, it was enacted by the Estates,
that, “where the new teaching had been introduced and could not be
abolished without notable revolt, trouble and danger,” “novelties”
were to be avoided until the assembly of the Council. Thirdly, in
places where the new teaching was in force the Blessed Sacrament in
particular was not to be assailed or preached against (as it was by
the Zwinglians), neither were people to be hindered from attending
Mass. After more stringent measures had been sanctioned against the
Anabaptists and “those who attempted to stir up the people to revolt
against the authorities,” for the preservation of peace in matters
of religion it was further determined that, “no ruler might take the
subjects of another ruler under his protection whether for reasons of
belief or for any other.” What had been enacted at Worms was to remain
in full force, but “if any Estate should commit a deed of violence”
the Kammergericht was empowered to pronounce sentence of outlawry on
the offenders.
The latter enactments were occasioned by the preparations made by the
Lutheran Estates to unite themselves still more closely in a common
League.
Against these resolutions as a whole the party in the Reichstag which
sided with the promoters of the innovations raised, on April 19, 1529,
the “Protest” which has since become famous; they declared at the same
time that it was impossible for them to countenance any alteration in
the favourable Edict of 1526. Previous to the departure of their rulers
and representatives, the Saxon Electorate, and Hesse, and the cities of
Strasburg, Ulm and Nuremberg entered, on April 22, into the “particular
secret agreement” concerning mutual armed resistance to any attack
which might be made upon them in the “cause of the Word of God” by the
Swabian League, the Kammergericht or the Empire.
In a Memorandum of the same year, also signed by Melanchthon, Luther
approved the action of his Elector and sought to justify it from the
theological point of view; “first, and principally, on the ground, that
His Princely Highness [by accepting the Edict of Spires of 1529] would
have been acting contrary to His Highness’ conscience and condemning
the doctrines which he acknowledged before God to be both Christian
and wholesome.” He also seeks to pacify the Prince by instancing the
terrible abuses of the Papal Church in Germany, which had been so
happily removed by the new teaching and which he ought not to use his
authority to “re-establish or maintain.”[1112]
In the Reichstagsabschied there was, however, no question of the
maintenance of abuses, and, only to Luther, could the retention of
the Mass appear as the maintenance of an “abuse”; it was much more a
question of checking, for a time, the advance of the innovations and
the propaganda of the Lutherans and of securing the legal rights of
Catholics, more particularly in those districts where the new religious
system was already in being.
The protesters might have accepted such a settlement without in any
way sacrificing their claims to equity, had they really been desirous
of justice and of coming to an agreement. Melanchthon himself, in his
own name and that of his friends, could well write: “The Articles in
the Imperial resolution do not press hard upon us.”[1113] Luther’s
opinion, on the other hand, was quite different; it was only his
defiant attitude and their own obstinate determination to resist the
terms offered them which prevented the protesters from accepting the
resolution in question. Their action, however, tended to excite men’s
minds still further. They appealed to their conscience: “What would our
assent be,” they declared in the Protest, “but a public denial of our
Lord and Saviour Christ and His sacred Word, which there is no doubt we
now possess in all its purity, simplicity and justice?”
They then made the attitude they had thus assumed an excuse for
refusing assistance against the Turks, notwithstanding the fact that
news had already reached Spires that the Turkish fleet was cruising
off the coasts of Sicily and threatening Western Christendom. “It
is an undeniable fact, that they would not promise to render aid
against the Turks unless the Catholic Estates of the Empire arrived
at some other conclusion concerning the religious question than that
under discussion, which they declared it was impossible for them to
accept.”[1114]
Such was the position of affairs when, in the summer of 1530, the
much-talked-of Reichstag at Augsburg was entrusted with the task of
bringing about the practical reconciliation of those who had separated
from communion with the Church. In the event of failure the Emperor
held out the prospect of the employment of sterner measures.
Luther and his followers agreed to the negotiations, but with the
so-called “proviso of the Gospel,” i.e. stipulating that the plain
Gospel, the Word of God, should not be tampered with.
What a grand temple of peace the old Augsburg Rathaus, with its
assembly-room for the forty-two members of the Reichstag, might have
become! In that case what significance the solemn procession of the
Blessed Sacrament, which, accompanied by the Catholic Princes and
Estates, passed through the streets of the city on the Feast of
Corpus Christi, would have possessed. Intentionally the feast had
been celebrated with a pomp and concourse of people such as had never
before been witnessed in the city, for was it not to symbolise the
establishment of religious unity? As it was, however, the work of
pacification completely miscarried, owing to the stubbornness of Luther
and his party.
Luther himself remained in the background during the proceedings.
He stayed in a place of safety at the Castle of Coburg, situated on
the Elector’s territory but sufficiently near to the city where the
Reichstag was held. His principal representative at Augsburg was
Melanchthon, who distinguished himself by his supple and politic
behaviour. In the afternoon of June 25, he caused the famous “Augsburg
Confession,” of which he was himself the author, to be read in the
Rathaus in the presence of the Estates of the Empire.[1115] The names
of the Elector and Prince Johann Frederick of Saxony, of Margrave
George of Brandenburg, of Dukes Franz and Ernest of Lüneburg, of
Landgrave Philip of Hesse, of Prince Wolfgang of Anhalt and of the
representatives of the Imperial cities of Nuremberg and Reutlingen were
appended to the document.
When, during the sessions, the new faith and the steps to be taken
towards peace came to be discussed, Melanchthon, greatly to the
surprise of the Catholics, spoke as though the spiritual jurisdiction
of the bishops was to be recognised by the Protestant party. The Papal
Legate wrote letters to Rome which aroused high hopes, at least in the
minds of the more sanguine. It was only gradually that the Catholic
party at Augsburg became convinced of the fact that they must exercise
the utmost caution. The ambiguity of the promises made by Melanchthon
rested on the fact, that acknowledgment of jurisdiction was tacitly
restricted to those bishops who should declare themselves in favour of
the new faith.
Melanchthon also made use of equivocation in the official document
just referred to, i.e. in the Augsburg Confession of Faith (cp. vol.
iii., xviii. 1). In the further negotiations with his opponents he
was “only too much inclined to agree to ambiguous formularies and
to make concessions not honestly compatible with the constantly
repeated ‘proviso,’ that nothing contrary to the Gospel was to be
conceded.”[1116] When, however, he showed himself shaky even with
regard to the sacrificial character of the Mass, the anxious Lutherans
at Augsburg thought it time to draw Luther’s attention to the matter.
It was pointed out to him by Lazarus Spengler that “our representatives
at Augsburg are going rather too far” in their concessions to the
demands of the Catholics.
Luther would not sanction any actual yielding, but was not averse to
a little diplomacy. He replied to Spengler, on August 28: “I have
written to him [Melanchthon] about this once before and am now writing
to him again, but hope that there is no real need. For though Christ
may appear to be somewhat weak, this does not mean that He is pushed
out of His seat.... Though too much may have been conceded--as may
be the case--still, the cause is not lost, on the contrary, a new
struggle has been entered upon that our adversaries may be convinced
how honestly they have acted. For nothing may be conceded above and
beyond the Gospel, whichever party’s ‘_insidiæ_’ hold the field; for,
in the proviso concerning the Gospel, ‘_insidiæ_’ are embodied other
than those which our adversaries can employ against us. For what is the
wisdom of man as compared with that of God? Therefore let your mind
be at rest; we can have conceded nothing contrary to the Gospel. But
if our supporters concede anything against the Gospel, then the devil
himself will seize on that, as you will see.”[1117]
This remarkable letter, with its allusions to the weakness of Christ,
the proviso of the Gospel and the successful “_insidiæ_,” calls for
some further consideration. Luther reckoned on two things, as we
shall see from his instructions to be quoted immediately. First, that
the best way to escape from the difficult situation created by the
Reichstag was to make general statements, which, however, were not
to surrender any part of the new teaching; he was anxious to pursue
this course in order to secure freedom for the Evangel, or at least
some delay in the condemnation of his cause. Secondly, that though at
Augsburg the evangelical spokesmen might be forced to give up some
part of the new teaching, yet this would be invalid, since against the
Gospel nothing can stand.
One can scarcely fail to see that one and the other of these
calculations militated against any serious, practical result of the
negotiations. They could only succeed in retarding any settlement of
the question, though any delay would of course tend to strengthen
Luther’s cause.
We have also a Latin letter of Luther’s to Melanchthon, bearing the
same date (August 28), which throws even more light on their treatment
of the Diet of Augsburg.
The letter describes the painful embarrassment in which Melanchthon
found himself placed as intermediary after the advances and concessions
he had made at Augsburg. Luther encourages him with strange arguments:
“I am reassured by the thought, that you cannot have committed anything
worse than a sin against our own person, so that we may be accused of
perfidy and fickleness. But what then? The constancy and truth of our
cause will soon set that right. I trust this will not be the case,
but I say, should it be, even then we should have no need to despair.
For when once we have evaded the peril and are at peace, then we can
easily atone for our tricks and failings (‘_dolos ac lapsus nostros_’),
because His [God’s] mercy is over us. ‘Expect the Lord, do manfully and
let thy heart take courage, and wait thou for the Lord’” (Psalm xxvi.
14).[1118]
This highly questionable counsel refers to the second of Luther’s
calculations mentioned above. He was not, however, forgetful of
the first, and expressly tells Melanchthon that he will best elude
difficulties by the general statement that “they were ready to give to
God what was God’s, and to the Kaiser what was the Kaiser’s.... Let
them [the opposition] prove what they assert, viz. that God and the
Emperor were on their side.” “Let them show that what they demand is
according to the Word of God”; should they succeed, then they will have
a right to hold the field, because all they were anxious to do was to
obey the Word of God. With Luther, however, the Word of God was not
really the Word of God itself, but what he understood by the Word of
God. We cannot wonder if Catholics stigmatised this form of speaking as
mere “dissimulation.” Nor can it be matter of surprise that far-seeing
Catholic representatives at Augsburg dreaded some snare on the part
of the protesters. Luther’s conception of the “proviso of the Gospel”
which, according to his letter to Spengler, was under any circumstances
to lead to the success of his cause, certainly shows their suspicions
to have been amply justified. Luther was, however, wrong in imputing to
them any wish to make use of similar “_insidiæ_” against his cause.
In a Latin letter of the same date Luther pointed out to his friend
Jonas, who was also one of the theologians then at Augsburg, the course
he himself had pursued at the Diet of Worms as the best example and
rule to be followed at Augsburg. At Worms Luther had appealed in the
presence of the Empire to the Word of God as binding on his conscience.
“Whatever you may concede [to the opposition],” he says to Jonas,
“never forget to except the Gospel, as I did at Worms, for here the
circumstances are quite similar.” Previous to this he had said: “Christ
watches over His honour, though we may perhaps be asleep to our shame.
Let them boast that you have yielded much, for they do not understand
that they have not got the one and only thing for which we really care
[the Gospel]. Let them have their way, those spectre-monks of Spires,”
he adds in German.[1119]
Nevertheless, in his letter of September 23, 1530, to the pastor
of Zwickau, Nicholas Hausmann, Luther speaks of the readiness of
his party to make concessions in the matter of the bishops, as of
a serious and important matter: the Catholic party had required
concessions of them which could only be described as “filthy, shameful
and degrading.” “Our party have rejected their offers absolutely.”
And he continues in the same serious tone: “They offered to admit the
jurisdiction of the bishops again, if these would see that the Gospel
was taught and all abuses done away with; some festivals also were to
be retained. Nothing, however, came of it. Our foes are determined
upon their own destruction; their inevitable fate hangs over their
heads.”[1120]
What he says to the Landgrave Philip of Hesse scarcely a month
later, on looking back upon this matter, is less mystical and more
diplomatic. The latter had expressed his “surprise” at the position
which had been taken up at Augsburg towards the Catholics, and Luther
was forced to seek an excuse. Here he represents the offers made as
a mere pretence and thus comes, as a matter of fact, nearer to the
truth than in the aforesaid letter to his zealous admirer Hausmann,
which was anything but true to fact. We should assuredly have been
guilty of a “fault,” he says, and have acted to the detriment of our
party, had our advances been accepted, but of that there was little
fear; now, however, we profit by our offer, for we can represent
ourselves as having been badly treated and thus we get an advantage
of the Papists. “I trust that Your Highness will not take offence,”
so runs the passage, “that we offered to accept certain things, such
as fasting, festivals, meats and chants, for we knew well that they
could not accept any such offer, and it serves to raise our repute
still further and enables me in my booklet to paint their disrepute
still more forcibly. It would indeed have been a mistake on our part
had the offer been accepted.”[1121] The Protestant author of the
“Hessische Kirchengeschichte im Zeitalter der Reformation” thinks it
necessary to make this extenuating remark: “The fact that Luther was
here seeking to excuse himself will serve to explain the wording of
this letter concerning his behaviour during the negotiations with
the Catholics, which otherwise might be easily misunderstood.” He
thinks there was no question of any original intention of taking
advantage of his opponents’ good faith, but that Luther, merely as an
afterthought, sought “to represent this as having been all along his
intention.”[1122] But does this really suffice to establish Luther’s
honesty and uprightness in the business?
In agreement with what he had said to Philip of Hesse, in his
“Warnunge an seine lieben Deudschen” (below, p. 391), which he was
then writing, or at least thinking of, Luther made every effort “to
enhance our repute” by instancing the ostensibly so conciliatory
attitude of the evangelicals at Augsburg. He there speaks of the
“humility, patience and pleading” which they “exhibited”;[1123] “our
prayers and pleas for peace” were, however, “lost upon these obstinate
men.” “The Papists,” he declared further on, quite untruly, had
refused to hear of peace, truth or reproof, but, “with their heads
down,” insisted upon waging war or raising a revolt. “Our offers, our
prayers, our cries for peace” were all wasted. He gives no details
concerning the spirit in which these “offers” were made.
The Emperor’s attempts to bring about peace at the Diet of Augsburg,
under the circumstances described above, were doomed to failure. It
was impossible for the Reichstag to bridge over the chasm which was
intentionally and artfully kept open by Luther and his party. The
final resolutions which were drawn up in due form and proclaimed by
the Emperor on November 19, declared that in matters of faith no
innovations might be introduced; worship, in particular the ritual of
the sacraments, the Mass and Veneration of the Saints, was to remain as
before until a decision by an Œcumenical Council; any interference with
or injury to churches and convents was forbidden; married priests were
to be removed from their posts and punished; preachers were only to be
appointed by the bishop; books were not to be printed without being
submitted to the censors, etc. The enactment, that Church property
which had been seized by the innovators should be returned without
delay, was a source of particular displeasure to Luther’s friends.
According to Luther the devil had triumphed at the Reichstag. “The
spectre-monks of Spires,” to use his own expression, i.e. the spirits
of hell, according to him, threatened his enterprise with destruction.
The apparition of the phantom monks of Spires was one of the
manifestations of diabolical animosity towards his teaching which
troubled Luther greatly at that time, in his lonely retreat of Coburg.
We here see the curious spirit-world in which he lived. A whole troop
of fiends disguised as monks, so he had been reliably informed, had
come to the Rhine at Spires at the beginning of the Diet of Augsburg
and had been ferried across the river on the pretext that “they were
from Cologne and wished to attend the Diet at Augsburg. But,” so the
story ran, “when they had crossed over, they all suddenly vanished,
so that they are believed to have been nothing but a band of evil
spirits.”[1124] Melanchthon looked upon the apparition of the “monks
of Spires” as the presage of a “terrible revolt.”[1125] His son-in-law,
George Sabinus, wrote a description of the incident in verse. Luther
himself was probably more inclined to look upon these spectres as
devils, because he had personally seen an apparition of the devil at
Coburg, where Satan had appeared in the garden below his window under
the form of a serpentine streak of light (cp. vol. vi., xxxvi. 3).
He was at that time dominated by fear and dread, partly owing to the
proceedings at the Reichstag, partly on account of the unfortunate
termination of the religious conference with Zwingli at Marburg,[1126]
where no understanding had been reached regarding the chief point
under dispute, and partly also because in his solitude his old inward
“temptations” and mental depression were again tormenting him. He
was also suffering much from the result of overwork. A malady due to
nervous exhaustion had, in 1527, so enfeebled him as to bring him to
the verge of the grave. The malady now returned with similar, though
less severe, symptoms. The spiritual desolation and fear, which were
the consequence of his doubts, now again assailed him as they had done
after his previous illness in 1527. Of this condition, Melanchthon, to
whom it was familiar enough, wrote to Dietrich, that one could not hope
to dispel it by human means, but only by recourse to prayer.[1127]
“Satan has sent me his emissaries,” Luther himself says of his
sufferings; “I was alone, Veit and Cyriacus were absent, and Satan was
so far successful as to drive me out of the room and force me to go
amongst the people.” He compares his mental state to a land dried up by
heat and wind and thirsting for water.[1128]
He observed to Melanchthon that as a rule he was weaker in such
personal combats than when it was a question of the common weal, or
of his public work.[1129] This may serve to correct those historians
who have nothing but “praise for Luther’s assurance and cheerfulness”
during the time when at Augsburg his cause stood in such imminent
danger.
Luther’s letters, previous to the breaking off of his followers’
pretended negotiations at Augsburg, certainly do not breathe a
spirit of interior peace. He says, for instance, to Jonas: “I am
actually bursting with anger and indignation (‘_pæne rumpor ira et
indignatione_’). I beseech you to cut the matter short and come back
home. They have our Confession and the Gospel. If they wish they can
accept them, if not let them depart.” Then there follows in the Latin
epistle a characteristic exclamation in German: “If war is to come, let
it come, we have prayed and done enough. The Lord has given them over
to us as a holocaust in order ‘to reward them according to their works’
[2 Tim. iv. 14]; us, His people,” Luther concludes, “He will save even
from the fiery furnace of Babylon. Forgive me, I pray, my Jonas, for
spewing out all this annoyance of mine into your lap; but what I have
written for you is meant for all.”[1130]
That it was indeed meant for all he showed by publishing, in 1531, in
anticipation of the “war” and in order that his party might not become
a “holocaust,” the “Warnunge Doctoris Martini Luther an seine lieben
Deudschen.”[1131] In this work, while indulging in the most virulent
abuse of the Reichstag, he declares, that in the event of a war or
tumult no assistance was to be rendered to the Papists; legitimate
self-defence demanded that such attacks should be met by resistance.
The determination shown by Luther after the Diet of Augsburg to
withstand the whole authority of the Empire is plainly manifest
even now in the vehemence of the tracts which he proceeded to throw
broadcast among the people. His purpose was to foster among the masses
a spirit of opposition which should be a constant menace to peace.
Losing no time, he at once attacked the Imperial Abschied in a special
pamphlet, “Auff das vermeint keiserlich Edict,”[1132] which immediately
followed the “Warnunge” and was soon being read throughout the German
lands.
It is true that at the beginning he here affirms that it is not his
wish to “write against his Imperial Majesty or any of the authorities,
temporal or spiritual.” Yet the whole work is nothing but a piece
of frightful abuse against the decision arrived at by Charles V and
against those Estates of the realm which had confirmed it. It is a
mere artifice when he declares that he is merely inveighing against
“traitors and other miscreants,” whether “Princes or Bishops, who work
their deeds of wickedness in the name of the Emperor,” “particularly
against that arch-knave, Pope Clement [VII] and his servant Campegius,”
for all the while, now with satire, now in deadly earnest, he is
really attacking the Reichstag and the authority of the Empire.
Incidentally we may mention that, quite oblivious of the Imperial
command, he had launched this pamphlet amongst the people without
submitting it to the censorship, and that in the very title he speaks
of the “supposed Edict,” though it was a question of an Edict issued
in due form and signed and sealed by the Emperor. His distortions
and misrepresentations, both of historical truth and of the Catholic
doctrine as put forward at the Reichstag, are so gross that they
deserve to be chronicled here.
Some of his misstatements were at once pointed out to him, in 1531, by
Franz Arnoldi, parish-priest at Cöllen, near Meissen, in the “Antwort
auf das Büchlein,” printed at Dresden, probably at the instance
of Duke George of Saxony.[1133] “As many lies as words,” exclaims
Arnoldi;[1134] “the devil, the father of lies and murderer of the human
race,” was anxious to support Luther by means of the “dissensions,
disagreements and revolts” which had already been stirred up, and, for
this purpose, had sent this shocking booklet among the people through
the agency of his “familiar and customary instrument and tool, Martin
Luther, that barrel brimful of abuse and slander.” Over and over
again Arnoldi expresses his conviction in the strongest and coarsest
language, that “the apostate undoubtedly worked under the devil’s own
direction.”[1135] Luther’s proceedings do not, however, stand out with
sufficient clearness in Arnoldi’s tract; indeed, the author was not
competent to grapple with the task he undertook. For instance, he fails
to show by examples how Luther, all through his pamphlet, makes use of
dishonest devices. Thus Luther represents the Imperial Recess as laying
it down that everything which the Lutherans opposed was certain on
the strength of the Gospel, or of a special inspiration received by
the Pope, and that this applied even to real ecclesiastical abuses, to
say nothing of certain pious customs not affecting the faith. Hoping
to mislead the people, Luther tells them that whoever refuses to take
Holy Water has, according to the Reichstag, fallen under sentence
of death; that, according to the same source, “befoulment with holy
things, pilgrimages and such-like” is a true revelation; that festivals
and fasts, cowls and tonsure, payments to Rome and pious brotherhoods,
come, according to the Papists, from the Gospel, in fact, constitute
their only Gospel. By his “inspirations” the Pope sets himself above
Holy Scripture, just as he makes himself Emperor and sets himself above
the Emperor, particularly in “secular government.” In support of this
last statement he cites the Decretals, though his references prove
nothing of the sort but rather the reverse.[1136]
It will be worth our while to examine rather more closely Luther’s
system of polemics as it appears in his work “Auff das vermeint
keiserlich Edict.” Its utter unfairness was, indeed, calculated to
rouse the masses to a pitch in which deeds of violence were to be
expected.
Seeing that the Edict promulgated by the Reichstag merely leads people
to “blaspheme God day and night,” it were better to be a Turk than
a Christian under such a banner. The Edict “abuses and slanders the
married state”--because it does not tolerate those priests who “live a
dishonourable life or with dishonourable women.” It brings to nought
the Word of God because it will not allow those to preach who teach,
like himself, “that which is in accordance with faith in Christ.” It
entirely degrades the authorities by inciting them only to “murder,
burn, drown, hang and expel” the people. “Let no one,” he says, “be
apprehensive of this Edict which they have so shamefully invented and
promulgated” in the name of the pious Emperor, for in real truth it is
the veriest devil’s dung.
Many other almost incredible misrepresentations accompany his
stream of eloquence. Bishops, cardinals and popes were merely
squandering Church property “on women of easy virtue, on feasting
and debauchery,” whereas Luther and his followers employed for good
purposes such possessions of the Church as they had appropriated.
If they did not hold them in very high esteem this was because so
much “blasphemy” still adhered to them. The monks were stifled in
their holiness-by-works; they were convinced, for instance, that they
had infallibly won heaven by merely donning the religious habit.
The clergy were a mere herd of “hogs and debauchees.” Many of his
statements were made expressly to excite the contempt and laughter
of the masses. The clerical doctrine of good works, for instance,
consisted in believing that whoever inadvertently swallowed a drop of
water or a gnat before communion, was not permitted to approach the
sacrament. According to him the clergy declared that “whoever had a
smudge on his rochet was guilty of a mortal sin.” Of himself and his
preaching on faith he has it, that “he insisted more upon good works
than Popery had ever done”; nevertheless, he would not have men seek
salvation in their works without Christ, as the Pope taught, and as
the sophistical authors of the Edict, “those imperial clerks and
poets,” believed.
Incidentally he seeks to lead the misguided people, who had no
opinions of their own, to believe that the Catholic spokesmen who
had rejected his doctrine of the slavery of the will, did not even
know what the question at issue really was. They do not know “what
free-will is; the Universities still disagree on the subject.... These
great, rude, blockheads condemn what they themselves admit they do not
understand”--as though, forsooth, a difference regarding the exact
definition and meaning involved a doubt as to the existence of freedom.
In their Edict they condemn my doctrine of justification, he cries,
though they themselves clearly recognise the contrary and, in the
secret of their hearts, are on my side, knowing well that their
boasts are but idle lies. In confident tones he asserts that he has
been defamed by sophistical charges of supporting doctrines which
were altogether strange to him and which he had never defended;--in
point of fact, these charges were not levelled at him at all, but
against the Anabaptists and others; he makes out the Edict to contain
contradictions,--of which in reality not the slightest trace is
to be found. The Catholic declaration that to receive communion
under both kinds is in itself allowable, he distorts into a general
permission. Because the giving of the chalice was no longer part of
the discipline of the Church, he calls the Popes spiritual robbers of
the faithful and overt enemies of their salvation. Add to this his
misinterpretation of Bible passages, the pious tone artfully assumed
here and there, his deliberate passing over in silence of certain
questionable points, and his pretence of awaiting the decision of a
general Council.
What has been quoted is sufficient to show the stratagems to which the
author has recourse at the expense of truth, and the doubtful methods
employed by him in his popular controversial writings. Yet this
work is by a long way not the most violent and malicious specimen of
Luther’s literary output.
We may wonder whether Luther, in the stress of his controversial
struggle, was fully aware of the glaring dishonesty of his utterances.
Certain it is that he was frequently carried away by anger and
excitement. Some daring misrepresentations and inventions he reiterated
so often that he may at last have come to believe them. Without some
inward obsession playing upon his imagination such a phenomenon is
almost inexplicable.
Although the contents of Luther’s “Warnunge an die Deudschen” and
“Auff das vermeint keiserlich Edict” incited people to resist
the Emperor,[1137] and thus far agreed with the demands of the
revolutionary party, as made, for instance, by the Landgrave of Hesse,
yet Luther was most careful to guard himself against any accusation of
having preached revolt against the authority of the Empire. Previous
to the publication of the “Warnunge” he had assured the Landgrave that
the greatest caution would be exercised in the work, “so that it may
not be stigmatised as seditious.”[1138] Later, too, he declared, quite
at variance with the actual facts of the case, and notwithstanding the
well-founded complaints of Duke George of Saxony and his own Elector’s
disapproval of the inflammatory character of his work: “In it I have
not treated of anything in a seditious manner and no one will be able
to convict me of stirring up revolt thereby.”[1139] He informs the
Elector, that the two pamphlets were really not “sufficiently severe”
considering the tone of his literary opponents; he was “only sorry
that he had not used stronger and more violent language,” whereas--the
allegation is untrue, but was calculated to produce a powerful effect
on the Elector--“unheard-of threats are contained in this horrible
statute and sentence levelled against Your Electoral Highness and
the members of your house, so that the sword and wrath of the whole
Empire menaces Your Electoral Highness in life and limb, drenching
Germany with innocent blood, making widows and orphans, and bringing
destruction and devastation on the Empire.”[1140] He concludes: “May
Our Merciful Father in Heaven comfort and strengthen Your Electoral
Highness in His Word.”
The Catholic Duke George of Saxony, a clear-headed man and good
politician, owing to the attack made upon him by Luther, descended
into the literary arena at the time when the struggle was at
its height, after the Edict of Augsburg, writing an anonymous
“Gegenwarnung” against Luther’s “Warnunge” and against his “Vermeint
Edict.” This was published by Arnoldi, who added an epilogue of his
own.[1141] The work is written in powerful language and abounds with
good arguments. The Duke commences with the plain statement, that the
innovator is after nothing else than making “us Germans disloyal to the
Emperor and opposed to all authority.” He points out with how great
cunning and malice Luther had gone to work, telling countless lies,
making a loud clamour and using endless artifices; this should be taken
to heart by those who called him a living Saint and vaunted the spirit
of God which spoke through him.
Having learnt the name of the author, Luther replied immediately
in a booklet steeped in hate, entitled, “Widder den Meuchler zu
Dresen gedrückt.”[1142] He fell upon the Duke with such insults,
misrepresentations and calumnies that many Catholics, to whom Luther’s
conduct appeared ever stranger, shared the opinion expressed in
George’s reply, viz. that “Luther is certainly possessed by the devil,
with the whole legion which Christ drove out of the man who was
possessed”; if Paul was right in saying that the spirit was known by
its fruits (Gal. v. 22), then Luther’s spirit was “the spirit of lies,
which spoke fond inventions and untruths through him.”[1143]
Luther, in his pamphlet “Widder den Meuchler, etc.” abuses the
author of the “Gegenwarnung” as an “arch-villain,” a “horrid,
impudent miscreant,” a fellow who tried to deck out and conceal the
“traitorous, murderous tyranny” of the Papists under the mantle of the
charges of “revolt and disobedience” directed against him, Luther. He
stigmatises all his opponents, more particularly the Catholic rulers,
as “bloodthirsty tyrants and priests,” as “bloodhounds” who have gone
raving mad from malice, as “murderers who have shed so much innocent
blood and are still desirous of shedding more.” They were “worthy
offshoots, who believe our teaching to be true and nevertheless
condemn it, and are therefore anxious for war and slaughter.” He also
declares he had never seen a “bigger and more stupid fool” than the
author. “Now then, squire assassin! Speak up and let us hear your
opinion. Shame upon your book, shame upon your brazen effrontery and
malicious heart; how is it that you do not blush to lay bare your
murderous and shameful lies before all the world, to deceive such
pious folk and to praise and vaunt such obstinate bloodhounds? But you
are a Papist, hence the infamies of the Papacy cling to you so that
you have gone mad and spit out such shameful words.”[1144]
To describe the Catholic party at the Diet of Augsburg he makes use of
the word “bloodhounds” six times within a few lines.[1145]
The haste with which he dashed off the pamphlet was only equalled by
his terrible excitement. He says at the end: “I have been forced to
hurry for the Leipzig Fair [the book Fair], but soon I shall lick
his gentle booklet into better shape for him.... I don’t care if he
complains that it contains nothing but evil words and devils, for that
redounds to my honour and glory; I wish it to be said of me in the
future, that I was full of evil words, vituperation and curses on the
Papists. I have humbled myself frequently for more than ten years and
given them nothing but good words.”[1146]
What he really should have done would have been to defend himself
against the charge brought forward by George of stirring up revolt
against the authority of the Empire. He not only failed to vindicate
himself, but assumed a still more threatening and defiant attitude.
* * * * *
After contemplating these far from pleasing pictures we may be allowed
to conclude by referring to one of Luther’s more favourable traits.
While, on the one hand, his soul was filled with deep anger against the
Papists, on the other he was also zealous in inveighing against those
who were threatening the foundations of those articles of the Christian
faith which he still held in common with Catholics, and which he was
ever ready to defend with the fullest conviction.
He foresaw that the freethinking spirit, which was involved in his own
religious movement, would not spare the dogma of the Trinity. He was
painfully alive to the fact that the arbitrariness of the Anabaptists
presaged the ruin of the most fundamental of Christian tenets.
In a sermon preached in 1526, speaking of the doctrine of the Trinity,
he had said: “The devil will not rest until he has managed to do the
same with this dogma as with the Sacrament; because we have snatched it
out of the jaws of the Pope and re-established its right use, turbulent
spirits now want to tread it under foot. The same will happen in the
matter of this article, so that we shall relapse into Judaism.”[1147]
A dangerous example of anti-Trinitarian tendencies had shown itself in
Luther’s immediate circle in the person of Johann Campanus, a native
of the diocese of Liege, who had been a student at Wittenberg since
1528. This man boasted that he was the first since the days of the
Apostles to rediscover the Gospel concerning the true unity or dualism
of God.[1148]