THE REFORMATION MOVEMENT.
The "great man" theory of history, formerly everywhere prevalent, and
even now common among non-historical persons, has long regarded the
Reformation as the purely personal work of the Augustine monk who was
its central figure. The fallacy of this conception is particularly
striking in the case of the Reformation. Not only was it preceded by
numerous sporadic outbursts of religious revivalism which sometimes
took the shape of opposition to the dominant form of Christianity,
though it is true they generally shaded off into mere movements of
independent Catholicism within the Church; but there were in addition
at least two distinct religious movements which led up to it, while
much which, under the reformers of the sixteenth century, appears as
a distinct and separate theology, is traceable in the fourteenth and
fifteenth centuries in the mystical movement connected with the names
of Meister Eckhart and Tauler. Meister Eckhart, whose free treatment
of Christian doctrines, in order to bring them into consonance with
his mystical theology, had drawn him into conflict with the Papacy,
undoubtedly influenced Luther through his disciple, Tauler, and
especially through the book which proceeded from the latter's school,
the _Deutsche Theologie_. It is, however, in the much more important
movement, which originated with Wyclif and extended to Central Europe
through Huss, that we must look for the more obvious influences
determining the course of religious development in Germany.
The Wycliffite movement in England was less a doctrinal heterodoxy
than a revolt against the Papacy and the priestly hierarchy. Mere
theoretical speculations were seldom interfered with, but anything
which touched their material interests at once aroused the vigilance
of the clergy. It is noticeable that the diffusion of Lollardism, that
is of the ideas of Wyclif, if not the cause of, was at least followed
by the peasant rising under the leadership of John Ball, a connection
which is also visible in the Tziska revolt following the Hussite
movement, and the Peasants' War in Germany which came on the heels
of the Lutheran Reformation. How much Huss was directly influenced by
the teachings of Wyclif is clear. The works of the latter were widely
circulated throughout Europe; for one of the advantages of the custom
of writing in Latin, which was universal during the Middle Ages, was
that books of an important character were immediately current amongst
all scholars without having, as now, to wait upon the caprice and
ability of translators. Huss read Wyclif's works as the preparation for
his theological degree, and subsequently made them his text-books when
teaching at the University of Prague. After his treacherous execution
at Constance, and the events which followed thereupon in Bohemia, a
number of Hussite fugitives settled in Southern Germany, carrying with
them the seeds of the new doctrines. An anonymous contemporary writer
states that "to John Huss and his followers are to be traced almost
all those false principles concerning the power of the spiritual and
temporal authorities and the possession of earthly goods and rights
which before in Bohemia, and now with us, have called forth revolt
and rebellion, plunder, arson, and murder, and have shaken to its
foundations the whole commonwealth. The poison of these false doctrines
has been long flowing from Bohemia into Germany, and will produce the
same desolating consequences wherever it spreads."
The condition of the Catholic Church, against which the Reformation
movement generally was a protest, needs here to be made clear to the
reader. The beginning of clerical disintegration is distinctly visible
in the first half of the fourteenth century. The interdicts, as an
institution, had ceased to be respected, and the priesthood itself
began openly to sink itself in debauchery and to play fast and loose
with the rites of the Church. Indulgences for a hundred years were
readily granted for a consideration. The manufacture of relics became
an organised branch of industry; and festivals of fools and festivals
of asses were invented by the jovial priests themselves in travesty
of sacred mysteries, as a welcome relaxation from the monotony of
prescribed ecclesiastical ceremony. Pilgrimages increased in number
and frequency; new saints were created by the dozen; and the disbelief
of the clergy in the doctrines they professed was manifest even to
the most illiterate, whilst contempt for the ceremonies they practised
was openly displayed in the performance of their clerical functions.
An illustration of this is the joke of the priests related by Luther,
who were wont during the celebration of the mass, when the worshippers
fondly imagined that the sacred formula of transubstantiation was being
repeated, to replace the words _Panis es et carnem fiebis_, "Bread
thou art and flesh thou shalt become," _by Panis es et panem manebis_,
"Bread thou art and bread thou shalt remain".
The scandals as regards clerical manners, growing, as they had been,
for many generations, reached their climax in the early part of the
sixteenth century. It was a common thing for priests to drive a
roaring trade as moneylenders, landlords of alehouses and gambling
dens, and even, in some cases, brothel-keepers. Papal ukases had
proved ineffective to stem the current of clerical abuses. The regular
clergy evoked even more indignation than the secular. "Stinking cowls"
was a favourite epithet for the monks. Begging, cheating, shameless
ignorance, drunkenness and debauchery, are alleged as being their
noted characteristics. One of the princes of the Empire addresses a
prior of a convent largely patronised by aristocratic ladies as "Thou,
our common brother-in-law!" In some of the convents of Friesland,
promiscuous intercourse between the sexes was, it is said, quite openly
practised, the offspring being reared as monks and nuns. The different
orders competed with each other for the fame and wealth to be obtained
out of the public credulity. A fraud attempted by the Dominicans
at Bern, in 1506, _with the concurrence of the heads of the order
throughout Germany_, was one of the main causes of that city adopting
the Reformation.[9]
In addition to the increasing burdens of investitures, annates, and
other Papal dues, the brunt of which the German people had directly
or indirectly to bear, special offence was given at the beginning of
the sixteenth century by the excessive exploitation of the practice of
indulgences by Leo X. for the purpose of completing the cathedral of
St. Peter's at Rome. It was this, coming on the top of the exactions
already rendered necessary by the increasing luxury and debauchery of
the Papal Court and those of the other ecclesiastical dignitaries,
that directly led to the dramatic incidents with which the Lutheran
Reformation opened.
The remarkable personality with which the religious side of the
Reformation is pre-eminently associated was a child of his time, who
had passed through a variety of mental struggles, and had already
broken through the bonds of the old ecclesiasticism before that
turning point in his career which is usually reckoned the opening of
the Reformation, to wit--the nailing of the theses on to the door of
the Schloss-Kirche in Wittenberg on the 31st of October, 1517. Martin
Luther, we must always bear in mind, however, was no Protestant in
the English Puritan sense of the word. It was not merely that he
retained much of what would be deemed by the old-fashioned English
Protestant "Romish error" in his doctrine, but his practical view of
life showed a reaction from the ascetic pretensions which he had seen
bred nothing but hypocrisy and the worst forms of sensual excess. It
is, indeed, doubtful if the man who sang the praises of "Wine, Women,
and Song" would have been deemed a fit representative in Parliament or
elsewhere by the British Nonconformist conscience of our day; or would
be acceptable in any capacity to the grocer-deacon of our provincial
towns, who, not content with being allowed to sand his sugar and
adulterate his tea unrebuked, would socially ostracise every one whose
conduct did not square with his conventional shibboleths. Martin Luther
was a child of his time also as a boon companion. The freedom of his
living in the years following his rupture with Rome was the subject of
severe animadversions on the part of the noble, but in this respect
narrow-minded Thomas Münzer, who in his open letter addressed to the
"Soft-living flesh of Wittenberg," scathingly denounces what he deems
his debauchery. It does not enter into our province here to discuss at
length the religious aspects of the Reformation; but it is interesting
to note in passing the more than modern liberality of Luther's
views with respect to the marriage question and the celibacy of the
clergy, contrasted with the strong mediæval flavour of his belief in
witchcraft and sorcery. In his _De Captivitate Babylonica Ecclesiæ_
(1519) he expresses the view that if, for any cause, husband or wife
are prevented from having sexual intercourse they are justified, the
woman equally with the man, in seeking it elsewhere. He was opposed to
divorce, though he did not forbid it, and recommended that a man should
rather have a plurality of wives than that he should put away any of
them. Luther held strenuously the view that marriage was a purely
external contract for the purpose of sexual satisfaction, and in no
way entered into the spiritual life of the man. On this ground he sees
no objection in the so-called mixed marriages, which were, of course,
frowned upon by the Catholic Church. In his sermon on "Married Life"
he says: "Know therefore that marriage is an outward thing, like any
other worldly business. Just as I may eat, drink, sleep, walk, ride,
buy, speak and bargain with a heathen, a Jew, a Turk or a heretic; so
may I also be and remain married to such an one, and I care not one
jot for the fool's laws which forbid it.... A heathen is just as much
man or woman, well and shapely made by God, as St. Peter, St. Paul, or
St. Lucia." Nor did he shrink from applying his views to particular
cases, as is instanced by his correspondence with Philip von Hesse,
whose constitution appears to have required more than one wife. He
here lays down explicitly the doctrine that polygamy and concubinage
are not forbidden to Christians, though, in his advice to Philip, he
adds the _caveat_ that he should keep the matter dark to the end that
offence might not be given; "for," says he, "it matters not, provided
one's conscience is right, what others say". In one of his sermons on
the Pentateuch[10] we find the words: "It is not forbidden that a man
have more than one wife. I would not forbid it to-day, albeit I would
not advise it.... Yet neither would I condemn it." Other opinions on
the nature of the sexual relations were equally broad; for in one of
his writings on monastic celibacy his words plainly indicate his belief
that chastity, no more than other fleshly mortifications, was to be
considered a divine ordinance for all men or women. In an address to
the clergy he says: "A woman not possessed of high and rare grace can
no more abstain from a man than from eating, drinking, sleeping, or
other natural function. Likewise a man cannot abstain from a woman.
The reason is that it is as deeply implanted in our nature to breed
children as it is to eat and drink."[11] The worthy Janssen observes
in a scandalised tone that Luther, as regards certain matters relating
to married life, "gave expression to principles before unheard of in
Christian Europe;"[12] and the British Nonconformist of to-day, if he
reads these "immoral" opinions of the hero of the Reformation, will be
disposed to echo the sentiments of the Ultramontane historian.
The relation of the Reformation to the "New Learning" was in Germany not
unlike that which existed in the other northern countries of Europe,
and notably in England. Whilst the hostility of the latter to the
mediæval Church was very marked, and it was hence disposed to regard
the religious Reformation as an ally, this had not proceeded very
far before the tendency of the Renaissance spirit was to side with
Catholicism against the new theology and dogma, as merely destructive
and hostile to culture. The men of the Humanist movement were for the
most part Freethinkers, and it was with them that freethought first
appeared in modern Europe. They therefore had little sympathy with
the narrow bigotry of religious reformers, and preferred to remain in
touch with the Church, whose then loose and tolerant Catholicism gave
freer play to intellectual speculations, provided they steered clear
of overt theological heterodoxy, than the newer systems, which, taking
theology _au grand sérieux_, tended to regard profane art and learning
as more or less superfluous, and spent their whole time in theological
wrangles. Nevertheless, there were not wanting men who, influenced at
first by the revival of learning, ended by throwing themselves entirely
into the Reformation movement, though in these cases they were usually
actuated rather by their hatred of the Catholic hierarchy than by any
positive religious sentiment.
Of such men Ulrich von Hutten, the descendant of an ancient and
influential knightly family, was a noteworthy example. After having
already acquired fame as the author of a series of skits in the new
Latin, and other works of classical scholarship, being also well
known as the ardent supporter of Reuchlin in his dispute with the
Church, and as the friend and correspondent of the central Humanist
figure of the time, Erasmus, he watched with absorbing interest the
movement which Luther had inaugurated. Six months after the nailing
of the theses at Wittenberg, he writes enthusiastically to a friend
respecting the growing ferment in ecclesiastical matters, evidently
regarding the new movement as a Kilkenny-cat fight. "The leaders,"
he says, "are bold and hot, full of courage and zeal. Now they shout
and cheer, now they lament and bewail, as loud as they can. They have
lately set themselves to write; the printers are getting enough to
do. Propositions, corollaries, conclusions, and articles are being
sold. For this alone I hope they will mutually destroy each other."
"A few days ago a monk was telling me what was going on in Saxony, to
which I replied: 'Devour each other in order that ye in turn may be
devoured (_sic_)'. Pray Heaven that our enemies may fight each other
to the bitter end, and by their obstinacy extinguish each other."
From this it will be seen that Hutten regarded the Reformation in
its earlier stages as merely a monkish squabble, and failed to see
the tremendous upheaval of all the old landmarks of ecclesiastical
domination which was immanent in it. So soon, however, as he perceived
its real significance, he threw himself wholly into the movement. It
must not be forgotten, moreover, that, although Hutten's zeal for
Humanism made him welcome any attempt to overthrow the power of the
clergy and the monks, he had also an eminently political motive for
his action in what was, in some respects, the main object of his life,
_viz._, to rescue the "knighthood," or smaller nobility, from having
their independence crushed out by the growing powers of the princes
of the Empire. Probably more than one-third of the manors were held
by ecclesiastical dignitaries, so that anything which threatened
their possessions and privileges seemed to strike a blow at the very
foundations of the imperial system. Hutten hoped that the new doctrines
would set the princes by the ears all round; and that then, by allying
themselves with the reforming party, the knighthood might succeed in
retaining the privileges which still remained to them, but were rapidly
slipping away, and might even regain some of those which had been
already lost. It was not till later, however, that Hutten saw matters
in this light. He was at the time the above letter was written in the
service of the Archbishop Albrecht of Mainz, the leading favourer
of the new learning amongst the prince-prelates, and it was mainly
from the Humanist standpoint that he regarded the beginnings of the
Reformation. After leaving the service of the archbishop he struck up
a personal friendship with Luther, instigated thereto by his political
chief, Franz von Sickingen, the leader of the knighthood, from whom he
probably received the first intimation of the importance of the new
movement to their common cause.
When, in 1520, the young Emperor, Charles V., was crowned at Aachen,
Luther's party, as well as the knighthood, expected that considerable
changes would result in a sense favourable to their position from the
presumed pliability of the new head of the Empire. His youth, it was
supposed, would make him more sympathetic to the newer spirit which
was rapidly developing itself; and it is true that about the time of
his election Charles had shown a transient favour to the "recalcitrant
monk". It would appear, however, that this was only for the purpose
of frightening the Pope into abandoning his declared intention of
abolishing the Inquisition in Spain, then regarded as one of the
mainstays of the royal power, and still more to exercise pressure
upon him, in order that he should facilitate Charles's designs on the
Milanese territory. Once these objects were attained, he was just as
ready to oblige the Pope by suppressing the new anti-Papal movement as
he might possibly otherwise have been to have favoured it with a view
to humbling the only serious rival to his dominion in the Empire.
Immediately after his coronation, he proceeded to Cologne and convoked
by imperial edict a Reichstag at Worms for the following 27th of
January, 1521. The proceedings of this famous Reichstag have been
unfortunately so identified with the edict against Luther that the
other important matters which were there discussed have almost fallen
into oblivion. At least two other questions were dealt with, however,
which are significant of the changes that were then taking place.
The first was the rehabilitation and strengthening of the Imperial
Governing Council (_Reichs-Regiment_), whose functions under Maximilian
had been little more than nominal. There was at first a feeling
amongst the States in favour of transferring all authority to it,
even during the residence of the Emperor in the Empire; and in the
end, while having granted to it complete power during his absence, it
practically retained very much of this power when he was present. In
constitution it was very similar to the French "Parliaments," and like
them was principally composed of learned jurists, four being elected
by the Emperor and the remainder by the estates. The character and
the great powers of this council, extending even to ecclesiastical
matters during the ensuing years, undoubtedly did much to hasten on the
substitution of the civil law for the older customary or common law, a
matter which we shall consider more in detail later on. The financial
condition of the Empire was also considered; and it here first became
evident that the dislocation of economic conditions, which had begun
with the century, would render an enormously increased taxation
necessary to maintain the imperial authority, amounting to five times
as much as had previously been required.
It was only after these secular affairs of the Empire had been disposed
of that the deliberations of the Reichstag on ecclesiastical matters
were opened by the indictment of Luther in a long speech by Aleander,
one of the papal nuncios, in introducing the Pope's letter. In spite
of the efforts of his friends, Luther was not permitted to be present
at the beginning of the proceedings; but subsequently he was sent for
by the Emperor, in order that he might state his case. His journey to
Worms was one long triumph, especially at Erfurt, where he was received
with enthusiasm by the Humanists as the enemy of the Papacy. But his
presence in the Reichstag was unavailing, and the proceedings resulted
in his being placed under the ban of the Empire. The safe-conduct
of the Emperor was, however, in his case respected; and in spite of
the fears of his friends that a like fate might befall him as had
befallen Huss after the Council of Constance, he was allowed to depart
unmolested.
On his way to Wittenberg Luther was seized by arrangement with his
supporter, the Kurfürst of Saxony, and conveyed in safety to the Castle
of Wartburg, in Thüringen, a report in the meantime being industriously
circulated by certain of his adherents, with a view of arousing
popular feeling, that he had been arrested by order of the Emperor and
was being tortured. In this way he was secured from all danger for the
time being, and it was during his subsequent stay that he laid the
foundations of the literary language of Germany.
Says a contemporary writer,[13] an eye-witness of what went on at
Worms during the sitting of the Reichstag: "All is disorder and
confusion. Seldom a night doth pass but that three or four persons
be slain. The Emperor hath installed a provost, who hath drowned,
hanged, and murdered over a hundred men." He proceeds: "Stabbing,
whoring, flesh-eating (it was in Lent) ... altogether there is an orgie
worthy of the Venusberg". He further states that many gentlemen and
other visitors had drunk themselves to death on the strong Rhenish
wine. Aleander was in danger of being murdered by the Lutheran
populace, instigated thereto by Hutten's inflammatory letters from
the neighbouring Castle of Ebernburg, in which Franz von Sickingen
had given him a refuge. The fiery Humanist wrote to Aleander himself,
saying that he would leave no stone unturned "till thou who camest
hither full of wrath, madness, crime, and treachery shalt be carried
hence a lifeless corpse".
Aleander naturally felt exceedingly uncomfortable, and other
supporters of the Papal party were not less disturbed at the threats
which seemed in a fair way of being carried out. The Emperor himself
was without adequate means of withstanding a popular revolt should it
occur. He had never been so low in cash or in men as at that moment. On
the other hand, Sickingen, to whom he owed money, and who was the only
man who could have saved the situation under the circumstances, had
matters come to blows, was almost overtly on the side of the Lutherans;
while the whole body of the impoverished knighthood were only awaiting
a favourable opportunity to overthrow the power of the magnates,
secular and ecclesiastic, with Sickingen as a leader. Such was the
state of affairs at the beginning of the year 1521.
The ban placed upon Luther by the Reichstag marks the date of the
complete rupture between the Reforming party and the old Church.
Henceforward, many Humanist and Humanistically-influenced persons who
had supported him withdrew from the movement and swelled the ranks of
the Conservatives. Foremost amongst these were Pirckheimer, the wealthy
merchant and scholar of Nürnberg, and many others who dreaded lest the
attack on ecclesiastical property and authority should, as indeed was
the case, issue in a general attack on all property and authority.
Thomas Murner, also, who was the type of the "moderate" of the
situation, while professing to disapprove of the abuses of the Church,
declared that Luther's manner of agitation could only lead to the
destruction of all order, civil no less than ecclesiastical. The two
parties were now clearly defined, and the points at issue were plainly
irreconcilable with one another or involved irreconcilable details.
The printing press now for the first time appeared as the vehicle
for popular literature; the art of the bard gave place to the art of
the typographer, and the art of the preacher saw confronting it a
formidable rival in that of the pamphleteer. Similarly in the French
Revolution modern journalism, till then unimportant and sporadic,
received its first great development, and began seriously to displace
alike the preacher, the pamphlet, and the broadside. The flood of
theological disquisitions, satires, dialogues, sermons, which now
poured from every press in Germany, overflowed into all classes of
society. These writings are so characteristic of the time that it is
worth while devoting a few pages to their consideration, the more
especially because it will afford us the opportunity for considering
other changes in that spirit of the age, partly diseased growths of
decaying mediævalism, and partly the beginnings of the modern critical
spirit, which also find expression in the literature of the Reformation
period.
FOOTNOTES:
[9] See Appendix B for this and an instance of a successful
imposture.
[10] _Sämmt. Werke_, xxxiii., 322-324.
[11] Quoted in Janssen, _Ein Zweites Wort an meine Kritiker_,
1883, p. 94.
[12] _Geschichte des Deutschen Volkes_, vol. ii., p. 115.
[13] Quoted in Janssen, bk. ii., 162.