When Luther had once decided for himself on the propriety of sacerdotal

marriage, he was not likely to stop half-way. Some of the reformers

were disposed to adopt the principles of the early church, and, while

permitting married priests to officiate, denied to them the right

to marry a second time or to espouse any but virgins, declaring all

_digami_ worthy of death and calling upon the people to drive them

out. Against these Luther, in 1528, took up the cudgels vigorously,

arguing the question in all its bearings and arriving at the conclusion

that only bigamists were to be shunned or deemed unworthy of holy

orders.[1077] Yet at the same time his thoroughly practical mind

prevented him from losing sight of some of the evils inseparable

from the revolution which he had wrought in an institution so deeply

affecting daily life as monasticism. As late as 1543, in a letter to

Spalatin, while congratulating him on the desire expressed by some

nuns to leave their convent, he cautions them not to do so unless

they have a certainty or, at least, a speedy prospect of marriage. He

complains of the number of such cases in which he had been obliged to

support the fugitives, and he concludes by declaring that old women

who had no chance of finding husbands had much better remain in their

cloisters.[1078]

It is not difficult to explain why there was so ready and general an

acquiescence in the abrogation of a rule established by the veneration

of so many centuries. Not only had the doctrines of the reformers

taken a deep and firm hold of the popular heart throughout Germany,

destroying the reverence for tradition and antiquity, and releasing

the human mind from the crushing obligation of blind obedience, but

there were other motives, natural, if not particularly creditable. The

ecclesiastical foundations had long neglected the duties of charity,

hospitality, and education, on which were grounded their claims to

their broad lands and rich revenues. While, therefore, the temporal

princes might be delighted with the opportunity of secularizing and

seizing the church possessions, the people might reasonably hope that

the increase of their rulers’ wealth would alleviate their own burdens,

as well as release them from the direct oppression which many of them

suffered from the religious establishments. Even more potential was the

disgust everywhere felt for the flagrant immorality of the priesthood.

The dread experienced by every husband and father lest wife and

daughter might at any moment fall victims to the lust of those who had

every opportunity for the gratification of unholy passions, led them

to welcome the change, in the hope that it would result in restoring

decency and virtue to a class which had long seemed to regard its

sacred character as the shield and instrument of crime.

The moral character of the clergy, indeed, had not improved during the

busy and eventful years which marked the first quarter of the sixteenth

century. There is a curious little tract, printed in Cologne in 1505,

with the approbation of the faculty, which is directed against

concubinage in general, but particularly against that of the priests.

Its laborious accumulation of authorities to prove that licentiousness

is a sin is abundant evidence of the existing demoralization, while

the practices which it combats, of guilty ecclesiastics granting

absolution to each other and mutually dispensing themselves from

confession, show how easily the safeguards with which the church had

sought to surround her ministers were eluded.[1079] The degradation of

the priesthood, indeed, can readily be measured when, in the little

town of Hof, in the Vogtland, three priests could be found defiling

the sacredness of Ash-Wednesday by fiercely fighting over a courtesan

in a house of ill-fame;[1080] or when Leo X., in a feeble effort at

reform, was obliged to argue that systematic licentiousness was not

rendered excusable because its prevalence amounted to a custom, or

because it was openly tolerated by those whose duty was to repress

it.[1081] In fact, a clause in the Concordat with Francis I. in 1516,

renewing and enhancing the former punishments for public concubinage,

would almost justify the presumption that the principal result of the

rule of celibacy was to afford to the officials a regular revenue

derived from the sale of licenses to sin[1082]—the old abuse, which

rises before us in every age from the time of Damiani and Hildebrand,

and which, since John XXII. had framed the tariff of absolutions for

crime known as the “Taxes of the Penitentiary,” had the authority of

the papacy itself to justify it. In this curious document we find that

a concubinary priest could procure absolution for less than a ducat

“in spite of all provincial and synodal constitutions;” while half a

ducat was sufficient to absolve for incest committed with a mother or a

sister.[1083]

That no concealment was thought necessary, and that sensual indulgence

was not deemed derogatory in any way to the character of a Christian

prelate, may be reasonably deduced from the panegyric of Gerard of

Nimeguen on Philip of Burgundy, granduncle of Charles V., a learned and

accomplished man, who filled the important see of Utrecht from 1517

to 1524. Gerard alludes to the amorous propensities and promiscuous

intrigues of his patron without reserve, and as his book was dedicated

to the Archduchess Margaret, sister of Charles V., it is evident

that he did not feel his remarks to be defamatory. The good prelate,

too, no doubt represented the convictions of a large portion of his

class, when he was wont to smile at those who urged the propriety of

celibacy, and to declare his belief in the impossibility of chastity

among men who, like the clergy, were pampered with high living and

tempted by indolence. Those who professed to keep their vows inviolate

he denounced as hypocrites of the worst description, and he deemed them

far worse than their brethren who sought to avoid unnecessary scandal

by decently keeping their concubines at home.[1084]

Even this reticence, however, was considered unnecessary by a large

portion of the clergy. In 1512, the Bishop of Ratisbon issued a series

of canons in which, after quoting the Basilian regulations, he adds

that many of his ecclesiastics maintain their concubines so openly

that it would appear as though they saw neither sin nor scandal in

such conduct, and that their evil example was the efficient cause of

corrupting the faithful.[1085] In Switzerland the same abuses were

quite as prevalent, if we may believe a memorial presented, in 1533, by

the citizens of Lausanne, complaining of the conduct of their clergy.

They rebuked the incontinence of the priests, whose numerous children

were accustomed to earn a living by beggary in the streets, but the

canons were the subjects of their especial objurgation. The dean of

the chapter had defied an excommunication launched at him for buying

a house near the church in which to keep his mistress; others of the

canons had taken to themselves the wives of citizens and refused to

give them up; but the quaintest grievance of which they had been guilty

was the injury which their competition inflicted on the public brothel

of the town.[1086] What was the condition of clerical morality in

Italy may be gathered from the stories of Bishop Bandello, who, as a

Dominican and a prelate, may fairly be deemed to represent the tone

of the thinking and educated classes of society. The cynical levity

with which he narrates scandalous tales about monks and priests shows

that in the public mind sacerdotal immorality was regarded almost as a

matter of course.[1087]

The powerful influence of all this on the progress of the Reformation

was freely admitted by the authorities of the church. When the legate

Campeggi was sent to Germany to check the spread of heresy, in his

reformatory edict issued at Ratisbon in 1524, he declared that the

efforts of the Lutherans had no little justification in the detestable

morals and lives of the clergy, and this is confirmed by his unsparing

denunciation of their licentiousness, drunkenness, quarrels, and

tavern-haunting; their traffic in absolution for enormous offences;

their unclerical habits and hideous blasphemy; their indulgence in

incantations and dabbling in witchcraft.[1088] Very significant is

his declaration that the canonical punishments shall be inflicted on

concubinary priests, in spite of all custom to the contrary or all

connivance with the prelates.[1089]

How little, indeed, licentious ecclesiastics might reasonably dread

the canonical punishments is illustrated in the report, by the

celebrated jurisconsult Grillandus, of a case which came before him

while he was auditor of the Papal Vicar in Rome. A Spanish priest

and Doctor of Canon Law, residing in the Christian capital, became

enamoured of several young nuns at once, and endeavored to seduce them

by teaching them that, as they and he were alike spouses of Christ,

carnal affection between them was their duty. Failing in this, he

sought to compel the assistance of God in his designs, and, being a

man of literary culture, he composed a number of prayers of singular

obscenity, and bribed various ignorant priests to recite them amid

the ineffable mysteries of the Mass, hoping thus to obtain the aid of

heaven in overcoming the chastity of his intended victims. At length he

chanced to offer one of these prayers to a priest of somewhat better

character, who was sufficiently shocked by it to communicate with the

authorities. Brought before Grillandus, the guilty Spaniard sought to

justify himself by alleging various Scriptural texts, but, upon being

warned that such a defence would subject him to a prosecution for

heresy, he recanted and acknowledged his errors. For this complicated

mingling of lust and sacrilege, his only punishment was a short

banishment from Rome.[1090] When the papal court set such an example,

what was to be expected of less enlightened regions?

How keenly these evils were felt by the people, and how instinctively

they were referred to the rule of celibacy as to their proper origin,

is shown by an incidental allusion in the formula of complaint laid

before the pope by the imperial Diet held at Nürnberg early in 1522,

before the heresy of priestly marriage had spread beyond the vicinity

of Wittenberg. The Diet, in recounting the evils arising from the

ecclesiastical jurisdiction which allowed clerical offenders to

enjoy virtual immunity, adduced, among other grievances, the license

afforded to those who, debarred by the canons from marriage, abandoned

themselves night and day to attempts upon the virtue of the wives and

daughters of the laity, sometimes gaining their ends by flattery and

presents, and sometimes taking advantage of the opportunities offered

by the confessional. It was not uncommon, indeed, for women to be

openly carried off by their priests, while their husbands and fathers

were threatened with vengeance if they should attempt to recover them.

As regards the sale to ecclesiastics of licenses to indulge in habitual

lust, the Diet declared it to be a regular and settled matter, reduced

to the form of an annual tax, which in most dioceses was exacted of all

the clergy without exception, so that when those who perchance lived

chastely demurred at the payment, they were told that the bishop must

have the money, and that after it was handed over they might take their

choice whether to keep concubines or not.[1091] In the face of this

condition of ecclesiastical morality, it required some obtuseness for

Adrian VI. to compare Luther to Mahomet, the one seeking to attract to

his party the carnal-minded by permitting marriage, even as the other

had established polygamy,[1092] and, further, to abuse him for uniting

the ministers of Christ with the vilest harlots.[1093]

* * * * *

Among the diverse opinions of existing evils and their remedy, it is

interesting to see what was the view of the subject taken by those

ecclesiastics whose purity of life removed them from all temptation to

indulgence, and who yet were not personally interested in upholding the

gigantic but decaying structure of sacerdotalism. Of these men Erasmus

may be taken as the representative. His opinion on all the questions

of the day was too eagerly desired for him to escape the necessity of

pronouncing his verdict on the innovation portended by the one or two

marriages which took place near Wittenberg in 1521, and accordingly, in

1522, from his retreat at Bâle he issued a short dissertation on the

subject, which, although addressed merely to Bishop Christopher of that

city, was evidently intended for a European audience. In this essay,

after sketching the rise of celibacy and attributing it to the purity

and fervor of the early Christians, he proceeds to depict the altered

condition of the church. Among the innumerable multitude of priests

who crowd the monasteries, the chapters, and the parishes, he declares

that there are few indeed whose lives are pure, even as respects open

and avowed concubinage, without penetrating into the mysteries of

secret intrigue. As, therefore, there is no Scriptural injunction of

celibacy, he concludes that, however desirable it might be to have

ministers free from the cares of marriage and devoting themselves

solely to the service of God, yet, since it seems impossible to conquer

the rebellious flesh, it would be better to allow those who cannot

control themselves to have wives with whom they could live in virtuous

peace, bringing up their children in the fear of God, and earning

the respect of their flocks. No more startling evidence, indeed, of

the demoralization of the period could be given than the cautious

fear which Erasmus expresses lest such a change should be opposed by

the episcopal officials, who would object to the diminution of their

unhallowed gains levied on the concubines of the clergy.[1094]

* * * * *

When such was the condition of ecclesiastical morality, and such were

the opinions of all except those directly interested in upholding the

old order of things, it is no wonder if the people were disposed to

look with favor on the marriage of their pastors, and if the rejection

of celibacy gave a fresh impetus to the cause of Lutheranism. In the

early days of all sects, it is only those of ardent faith and pure

zeal who are likely to embrace a new belief, with all the attendant

risks of persecution and contumely. The laxity of life allowed to the

Catholic clergy would attract to its ranks and retain those whose aim

was sensual indulgence. Thus, necessarily, the reformers who married

would present for contrast regular and chaste lives and well-ordered

households, purified by the dread of the ever-impending troubles

to which the accident of a day might at any time expose them. The

comparison thus was in every way favorable to the new ideas, and they

flourished accordingly.

Nor, perhaps, were the worldly inducements to which I have before

alluded less powerful in their own way in advancing the cause. Shortly

before Luther’s marriage, whatever influence was derivable from an

aristocratic example was obtained when the Baron of Heydeck, a knight

of the Teutonic order, renounced his vows and publicly espoused a nun

of Ligny.[1095] This may possibly have encouraged his superior, Albert

of Brandenburg, grand-master of the order, to execute his remarkably

successful coup d’état in changing his religion and seizing the estates

of the order, thus practically founding the state which chance and

talent have exalted until it has been able to realize, at least for a

time, the day-dream of a united Germany. The liberty of marriage which

he thus assumed was soon turned to account in his advantageous alliance

with Frederic, King of Denmark, whose daughter Dorothea he espoused,

the Bishop of Szamland officiating as his proxy, and the actual

marriage being celebrated June 14, 1526.[1096]

Luther may reasonably be held excusable for counselling and aiding a

transaction which lent such incalculable strength to the struggling

cause of the Reformation, and it is not to be wondered at if he

endeavored to follow it up with another of a similar character. The

nephew of the Duke of Prussia, also named Albert of Brandenburg,

occupied the highest place in the Teutonic hierarchy, as Archbishop

both of Mainz and Magdeburg, in the latter of which powerful sees the

Lutheran heresies had taken deep root. Luther sought to induce the

archbishop to follow his uncle’s example; to take possession in his

own right of the Magdeburg territories, and to transmit them to the

posterity with which heaven could not fail to bless his prospective

marriage—a scheme which met the warm approbation of the leading nobles

of the diocese. Albert thought seriously of the project, especially as

the Peasants’ War then raging was directed particularly against the

lands of the church, but he finally abandoned it, and his flock had to

work out their reformation without his assistance.[1097]

Perhaps some plans of territorial aggrandizement may have stimulated

the zeal of the Count of Embden, who boasted that he had assisted

and encouraged the marriage of no less than five hundred monks and

nuns;[1098] yet the process of secularizing the monastic foundations

was in many places by no means sudden or violent. Thus, when the Abbot

of Ilgenthal in Saxony died, in 1526, the Elector John simply forbade

the election of a successor, and placed the abbey in charge of a

prefect, while the remaining monks were liberally supplied until they

one after another died out,[1099] and in 1529, when Philip, Count of

Waldeck, took possession of the ancient monastery of Hainscheidt, he

caused all the monks to be supported during life.[1100]

* * * * *

Through all this period the hope had never been abandoned of such an

arrangement as would prevent an irrevocable separation in the church.

Moderate and temperate men on both sides were ready to make such

concessions of form as would enable Christendom to remain united, as

the great vital truths on which all were agreed so far outweighed the

points of divergence. Whether these hopes were well or ill-founded

was to be determined at the Diet of Augsburg, to which, in June,

1530, both parties were summoned for the purpose of submitting their

differences to the emperor. Charles came to Germany in the full flush

of his recent extraordinary triumphs, the most powerful prince since

the days of Charlemagne. Europe was at length at peace, even the Turk

only looming in the East as a probable, not as an existing, enemy. But

Charles, newly crowned at Bologna, came ostensibly as the steadfast

ally of the pope, and Clement VII. had not the slightest intention of

renouncing the traditional and imprescriptible rights of the Holy See.

The Catholic princes of Germany, too, had their grounds of private

quarrel with their Protestant peers, and, holding an unquestioned

majority, were not disposed to abandon their position. The Protestant

princes, on the other hand, were firm in their new-found faith, and,

however disposed to avert the threatened storm by the sacrifice of

non-essentials, their convictions were too strong for them to retrace

the steps which they had taken during so many long and weary years.

It is evident that, with such materials on either side, no reunion

was probable; and, even had an accommodation on points of doctrine

been possible, there was one subject which scarcely seemed to admit of

satisfactory compromise. In the states of the reform, the downfall of

monachism had placed in the hands of the temporal powers large bodies

of sequestrated abbey lands. To the Catholic it was sacrilege to leave

these in the hands of the spoiler; the Protestant would not willingly

give up the spoil.

The contest was opened by the Protestants submitting a statement

of their belief, divided into two parts, the one devoted to points

of faith, the other to matters of practice. Prepared principally

by Melanchthon, it presents their tenets in the mildest and least

objectionable form, and becoming the recognized standard of their

creed, it has attained a world-wide renown under the name of the

Confession of Augsburg. The questions of celibacy and monastic vows

were ably and temperately argued; their post-scriptural origin was

shown, and the reasons which induced the reformers to reject them

were placed in a light as little offensive as possible.[1101] At

first, a counter-statement was anticipated from the Catholics, and

negotiations were expected to be carried on by a comparison of the

two, but they took higher ground, and contented themselves with

drawing up a refutation of the Confession. The emperor was firm.

His aspirations for the universal monarchy, which ever eluded his

grasp, did not comport with encouraging independence of thought and

freedom of religious belief. In his theory, uniform subordination of

religion was a necessary element of the political system which was to

make him sovereign of Europe, and he would listen to no compromise.

He was inclined to summary measures, but the Catholic princes were

hardly prepared for the consequences of an immediate rupture, and,

after a threatening interval, another effort was made to effect a

reconciliation. Conferences between the leading theologians on both

sides took place, and the Lutherans, warned of their danger, were more

disposed than ever to make concessions and to accept such terms as

the stronger party were willing to offer them. At length, on the 8th

of September, the draft of a proposed plan of accord was laid before

the Diet. In this the points in dispute were referred to that future

œcumenic council which had so long been demanded as the panacea for

all ecclesiastical ills, and which, after more than thirty years of

continued expectation, was destined to fail so miserably in reconciling

difficulties. Such monasteries as had not been destroyed were to be

maintained in the exercise of the customary rites and observances

of religion. Abbots and communities who had been ejected were to be

allowed to return; and all religious houses which had been emptied of

their occupants were to be placed in the hands of officers appointed

by the emperor, who were to administer to their possessions until

the future council should decide upon all the points relating to

monachism; the Protestants thus relieving themselves of the accusation

that they were actuated by motives of worldly gain. Similar proposals

were made with regard to communion in the two elements and clerical

marriage. These were left as open questions for the council to settle,

while a phrase of doubtful import subjected them in the mean time

to the governments of the several states.[1102] The concessions in

this project, however, though they might suit the views of temperate

doctors and princes in Germany, and though even the Roman curia might

be willing to grant them in order to save its threatened temporal power

over the Teutonic states, did not suit the policy of Charles, who

regarded the church as simply one of the instruments with which he was

to build up his universal empire.[1103] It was not difficult for him,

therefore, to bring to naught all such schemes of conciliation. The

restoration of all abbots and monks was ordered; restitution of church

lands was commanded, or their delivery to the emperor to be held until

the assembling of the future council; and when the Diet adjourned,

Charles issued a decree enjoining on all married priests to abstain

from their wives, to eject them, and to seek absolution from their

ordinaries.[1104]

The threatening aspect of affairs warned the Protestant princes that no

time was to be lost in making provision for mutual defence, and ere the

year was out the famous League of Schmalkalden enabled them to present

a united front to the powers which they had virtually defied. Into the

political history of that eventful time it is not my province to enter.

Suffice it to say that they were able to maintain their position, and

in their own states to oppose the reactionary movement which at times

seemed to be on the point of destroying all that had been accomplished.

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