As the great Bishop Luke lay dying at Jungbunzlau, there was rising to
fame among the Brethren the most brilliant and powerful leader they had
ever known. Again we turn to the old Thein Church; again the preacher is
denouncing the priests; and again in the pew is an eager listener with
soul aflame with zeal. His name was John Augusta. He was born, in 1500,
at Prague. His father was a hatter, and in all probability he learned
the trade himself. He was brought up in the Utraquist Faith; he took
the sacrament every Sunday in the famous old Thein Church; and there he
heard the preacher declare that the priests in Prague cared for nothing
but comfort, and that the average Christians of the day were no better
than crack-brained heathen sprinkled with holy water. The young man was
staggered; he consulted other priests, and the others told him the same
dismal tale. One lent him a pamphlet, entitled "The Antichrist"; another
lent him a treatise by Hus; and a third said solemnly: "My son, I see
that God has more in store for you than I can understand." But the
strangest event of all was still to come. As he rode one day in a
covered waggon with two priests of high rank, it so happened that one of
them turned to Augusta and urged him to leave the Utraquist Church and
join the ranks of the Brethren at Jungbunzlau. Augusta was horrified.
Again he consulted the learned priest; again he received the same
strange counsel; and one day the priest ran after him, called him back,
and said: "Listen, dear brother! I beseech you, leave us. You will get
no good among us. Go to the Brethren at Bunzlau, and there your soul
will find rest." Augusta was shocked beyond measure. He hated the
Brethren, regarded them as beasts, and had often warned others against
them. But now he went to see them himself, and found to his joy that
they followed the Scriptures, obeyed the Gospel and enforced their
rules without respect of persons. For a while he was in a quandary.
His conscience drew him to the Brethren, his honour held him to the
Utraquists, and finally his own father confessor settled the question
for him.
"Dear friend," said the holy man, "entrust your soul to the Brethren.
Never mind if some of them are hypocrites, who do not obey their own
rules. It is your business to obey the rules yourself. What more do you
want? If you return to us in Prague, you will meet with none but sinners
and sodomites."
And so, by the advice of Utraquist priests, this ardent young man joined
the ranks of the Brethren, was probably trained in the Brethren's House
at Jungbunzlau, and was soon ordained as a minister. Forthwith he rose
to fame and power in the pulpit. His manner was dignified and noble.
His brow was lofty, his eye flashing, his bearing the bearing of a
commanding king. He was a splendid speaker, a ready debater, a ruler
of men, an inspirer of action; he was known ere long as the Bohemian
Luther; and he spread the fame of the Brethren's Church throughout the
Protestant world. Full soon, in truth, he began his great campaign. As
he entered on his work as a preacher of the Gospel, he found that among
the younger Brethren there were quite a number who did not feel at all
disposed to be bound by the warning words of Luke of Prague. They had
been to the great Wittenberg University; they had mingled with Luther's
students; they had listened to the talk of Michael Weiss, who had been
a monk at Breslau, and had brought Lutheran opinions with him; they
admired both Luther and Melancthon; and they now resolved, with one
consent, that if the candlestick of the Brethren's Church was not to
be moved from out its place, they must step shoulder to shoulder with
Luther, become a regiment in the conquering Protestant army, and march
with him to the goodly land where the flower of the glad free Gospel
bloomed in purity and sweet perfume. At the first opportunity
Augusta, their leader, brought forward their views. At a Synod held
at Brandeis-on-the-Adler, summoned by Augusta's friend, John Horn,
the senior Bishop of the Church, for the purpose of electing some new
Bishops, Augusta rose to address the assembly. He spoke in the name of
the younger clergy, and immediately commenced an attack upon the old
Executive Council. He accused them of listlessness and sloth; he said
that they could not understand the spirit of the age, and he ended his
speech by proposing himself and four other broad-minded men as members
of the Council. The old men were shocked; the young were entranced; and
Augusta was elected and consecrated a Bishop, and thus, at the age of
thirty-two, became the leader of the Brethren's Church. He had three
great schemes in view; first, friendly relations with Protestants in
other countries; second, legal recognition of the Brethren in Bohemia;
third, the union of all Bohemian Protestants.
First, then, with Augusta to lead them on, the Brethren enlisted in the
Protestant army, and held the banner of their faith aloft that all the
world might see. As the Protestants in Germany had issued the Confession
of Augsburg, and had it read in solemn style before the face of
the Emperor, Charles V., so now the Brethren issued a new and full
"Confession of Faith," to be sent first to George, Margrave of
Brandenburg, and then laid in due time before Ferdinand, King of
Bohemia. It was a characteristic Brethren's production.[35] It is
perfectly clear from this Confession that the Brethren had separated
from Rome for practical rather than dogmatic reasons. It is true
the Brethren realised the value of faith; it is true the Confession
contained the sentence, "He is the Lamb that taketh away the sins of the
world; and whosoever believeth in Him and calleth on His name shall be
saved"; but even now the Brethren did not, like Luther, lay stress on
the doctrine of justification by faith alone. And yet Luther had no
fault to find with this Confession. It was addressed to him, was printed
at Wittenberg, was issued with his consent and approval, and was praised
by him in a preface. It was read and approved by John Calvin, by
Martin Bucer, by Philip Melancthon, by pious old George, Margrave of
Brandenburg, and by John Frederick, Elector of Saxony. Again and again
the Brethren sent deputies to see the great Protestant leaders. At
Wittenberg, Augusta discussed good morals with Luther and Melancthon;
and at Strasburg, Cerwenka, the Brethren's historian, held friendly
counsel with Martin Bucer and Calvin. Never had the Brethren been so
widely known, and never had they received so many compliments. Formerly
Luther, who liked plain speech, had called the Brethren "sour-looking
hypocrites and self-grown saints, who believe in nothing but what they
themselves teach." But now he was all good humour. "There never have
been any Christians," he said, in a lecture to his students, "so like
the apostles in doctrine and constitution as these Bohemian Brethren."
"Tell your Brethren," he said to their deputies, "to hold fast what God
has given them, and never give up their constitution and discipline. Let
them take no heed of revilements. The world will behave foolishly. If
you in Bohemia were to live as we do, what is said of us would be said
of you, and if we were to live as you do, what is said of you would be
said of us." "We have never," he added, in a letter to the Brethren,
"attained to such a discipline and holy life as is found among you, but
in the future we shall make it our aim to attain it."
The other great Reformers were just as enthusiastic. "How shall I," said
Bucer, "instruct those whom God Himself has instructed! You alone, in
all the world, combine a wholesome discipline with a pure faith." "We,"
said Calvin, "have long since recognised the value of such a system,
but cannot, in any way, attain to it." "I am pleased," said Melancthon,
"with the strict discipline enforced in your congregations. I wish we
could have a stricter discipline in ours." It is clear what all this
means. It means that the Brethren, in their humble way, had taught the
famous Protestant leaders the value of a system of Church discipline and
the need of good works as the proper fruit of faith.
Meanwhile Augusta pushed his second plan. The task before him was
gigantic. A great event had taken place in Bohemia. At the battle of
Mohacz, in a war with the Turks, Louis, King of Bohemia, fell from his
horse when crossing a stream, and was drowned {1526.}. The old line of
Bohemian Kings had come to an end. The crown fell into the hands of the
Hapsburgs; the Hapsburgs were the mightiest supporters of the Church
of Rome; and the King of Bohemia, Ferdinand I., was likewise King of
Hungary, Archduke of Austria, King of the Romans, and brother of the
Emperor Charles V., the head of the Holy Roman Empire.
For the Brethren the situation was momentous. As Augusta scanned the
widening view, he saw that the time was coming fast when the Brethren,
whether they would or no, would be called to play their part like men in
a vast European conflict. Already the Emperor Charles V. had threatened
to crush the Reformation by force; already (1530) the Protestant princes
in Germany had formed the Smalkald League; and Augusta, scenting the
battle from afar, resolved to build a fortress for the Brethren. His
policy was clear and simple. If the King of Bohemia joined forces with
the Emperor, the days of the Brethren's Church would soon be over. He
would make the King of Bohemia their friend, and thus save the Brethren
from the horrors of war. For this purpose Augusta now instructed the
powerful Baron, Conrad Krajek, the richest member of the Brethren's
Church, to present the Brethren's Confession of Faith to King Ferdinand.
The Baron undertook the task. He was the leader of a group of Barons
who had recently joined the Church; he had built the great Zbor of the
Brethren in Jungbunzlau, known as "Mount Carmel"; he had been the first
to suggest a Confession of Faith, and now, having signed the Confession
himself, he sought out the King at Vienna, and was admitted to a private
interview {Nov. 11th, 1535.}. The scene was stormy. "We would like to
know," said the King, "how you Brethren came to adopt this faith. The
devil has persuaded you."
"Not the devil, gracious liege," replied the Baron, "but Christ the Lord
through the Holy Scriptures. If Christ was a Picard, then I am one too."
The King was beside himself with rage.
"What business," he shouted, "have you to meddle with such things? You
are neither Pope, nor Emperor, nor King. Believe what you will! We shall
not prevent you! If you really want to go to hell, go by all means!"
The Baron was silent. The King paused.
"Yes, yes," he continued, "you may believe what you like and we shall
not prevent you; but all the same, I give you warning that we shall put
a stop to your meetings, where you carry on your hocus-pocus."
The Baron was almost weeping.
"Your Majesty," he protested, "should not be so hard on me and my noble
friends. We are the most loyal subjects in your kingdom."
The King softened, spoke more gently, but still held to his point.
"I swore," he said, "at my coronation to give justice to the Utraquists
and Catholics, and I know what the statute says."
As the King spoke those ominous words, he was referring, as the Baron
knew full well, to the terrible Edict of St. James. The interview ended;
the Baron withdrew; the issue still hung doubtful.
And yet the Baron had not spoken in vain. For three days the King was
left undisturbed; and then two other Barons appeared and presented the
Confession, signed by twelve nobles and thirty-three knights, in due
form {Nov. 14th}.
"Do you really think," they humbly said, "that it helps the unity of the
kingdom when priests are allowed to say in the pulpit that it is less
sinful to kill a Picard than it is to kill a dog."
The King was touched; his anger was gone, and a week later he promised
the Barons that as long as the Brethren were loyal subjects he would
allow them to worship as they pleased. For some years the new policy
worked very well, and the King kept his promise. The Brethren were
extending on every hand. They had now at least four hundred churches and
two hundred thousand members. They printed and published translations
of Luther's works. They had a church in the city of Prague itself. They
enjoyed the favour of the leading nobles in the land; and Augusta, in a
famous sermon, expressed the hope that before very long the Brethren and
Utraquists would be united and form one National Protestant Church.[36]
At this point a beautiful incident occurred. As the Brethren were now so
friendly with Luther, there was a danger that they would abandon their
discipline, become ashamed of their own little Church, and try to
imitate the teaching and practice of their powerful Protestant friends.
For some years after Luke's death they actually gave way to this
temptation, and Luke's last treatise, "Regulations for Priests," was
scornfully cast aside. But the Brethren soon returned to their senses.
As John Augusta and John Horn travelled in Germany, they made the
strange and startling discovery that, after all, the Brethren's Church
was the best Church they knew. For a while they were dazzled by the
brilliance of the Lutheran preachers; but in the end they came to the
conclusion that though these preachers were clever men they had not
so firm a grip on Divine truth as the Brethren. At last, in 1546, the
Brethren met in a Synod at Jungbunzlau to discuss the whole situation.
With tears in his eyes John Horn addressed the assembly. "I have never
understood till now," he said, "what a costly treasure our Church is. I
have been blinded by the reading of German books! I have never found any
thing so good in those books as we have in the books of the Brethren.
You have no need, beloved Brethren, to seek for instruction from others.
You have enough at home. I exhort you to study what you have already;
you will find there all you need." Again the discipline was revived in
all its vigour; again, by Augusta's advice, the Catechism of Luke was
put into common use, and the Brethren began to open schools and teach
their principles to others.
But now their fondest hopes were doomed to be blasted. For the last
time Augusta went to Wittenberg to discuss the value of discipline with
Luther, and as his stay drew to a close he warned the great man that if
the German theologians spent so much time in spinning doctrines and
so little time in teaching morals, there was danger brewing ahead.
The warning soon came true. The Reformer died. The gathering clouds in
Germany burst, and the Smalkald War broke out. The storm swept on to
Bohemia. As the Emperor gathered his forces in Germany to crush the
Protestant Princes to powder, so Ferdinand in Bohemia summoned his
subjects to rally round his standard at Leitmeritz and defend the
kingdom and the throne against the Protestant rebels. For the first time
in their history the Bohemian Brethren were ordered to take sides in a
civil war. The situation was delicate. If they fought for Ferdinand they
would be untrue to their faith; if they fought against him they would be
disloyal to their country. In this dilemma they did the best they could.
As soon as they could possibly do so, the Elders issued a form of prayer
to be used in all their churches. It was a prayer for the kingdom
and the throne.[37] But meanwhile others were taking definite sides. At
Leitmeritz the Catholics and old-fashioned Utraquists mustered to fight
for the King; and at Prague the Protestant nobles met to defend the
cause of religious liberty. They met in secret at a Brother's House;
they formed a Committee of Safety of eight, and of those eight four were
Brethren; and they passed a resolution to defy the King, and send help
to the German Protestant leader, John Frederick, Elector of Saxony.
And then the retribution fell like a bolt from the blue. The great
battle of Mühlberg was fought {April 24th, 1547.}; the Protestant troops
were routed; the Elector of Saxony was captured; the Emperor was master
of Germany, and Ferdinand returned to Prague with vengeance written on
his brow. He called a council at Prague Castle, summoned the nobles and
knights before him, ordered them to deliver up their treasonable papers,
came down on many with heavy fines, and condemned the ringleaders to
death.
At eight in the morning, August 22nd, four Barons were led out to
execution in Prague, and the scaffold was erected in a public place that
all the people might see and learn a lesson. Among the Barons was Wenzel
Petipesky, a member of the Brethren's Church. He was to be the first to
die. As he was led from his cell by the executioner, he called out in a
loud voice, which could be heard far and wide: "My dear Brethren, we go
happy in the name of the Lord, for we go in the narrow way." He walked
to the scaffold with his hands bound before him, and two boys played his
dead march on drums. As he reached the scaffold the drums ceased, and
the executioner announced that the prisoner was dying because he had
tried to dethrone King Ferdinand and put another King in his place.
"That," said Petipesky, "was never the case."
"Never mind, my Lord," roared the executioner, "it will not help you
now."
"My God," said Petipesky, "I leave all to Thee;" and his head rolled on
the ground.
But the worst was still to come. As Ferdinand came out of the castle
church on Sunday morning, September 18th, he was met by a deputation of
Utraquists and Catholics, who besought him to protect them against the
cruelties inflicted on them by the Picards. The King soon eased their
minds. He had heard a rumour that John Augusta was the real leader of
the revolt; he regarded the Brethren as traitors; he no longer felt
bound by his promise to spare them; and, therefore, reviving the Edict
of St. James, he issued an order that all their meetings should be
suppressed, all their property be confiscated, all their churches be
purified and transformed into Romanist Chapels, and all their priests
be captured and brought to the castle in Prague {Oct. 8th, 1547.}. The
Brethren pleaded not guilty.[38] They had not, as a body, taken any part
in the conspiracy against the King. Instead of plotting against him, in
fact, they had prayed and fasted in every parish for the kingdom and the
throne. If the King, they protested, desired to punish the few guilty
Brethren, by all means let him do so; but let him not crush the innocent
many for the sake of a guilty few. "My word," replied the King, "is
final." The Brethren continued to protest. And the King retorted by
issuing an order that all Brethren who lived on Royal estates must
either accept the Catholic Faith or leave the country before six weeks
were over {May, 1548.}.
And never was King more astounded and staggered than Ferdinand at the
result of this decree.