RELIGIOUS CONDITION OF THE PROTESTANT CHURCH AT THE PEACE OF
WESTPHALIA--1648.
Theological strife was the precursor of the all-devastating Thirty
Years' War. The forces had been long at work before the fearful carnage
began. The principles involved were of such moment that, whatever power
took part in the struggle, did so with all the energy with which it was
endowed. The Emperor Rudolph II. had, in 1609, guaranteed to Bohemia the
liberty of Protestantism, but his successor, Matthias, violated the
pledge by preventing the erection of a Protestant church edifice. The
imperial councillors were cast out of the window; the priests driven
off; and the Elector Frederick V. of the Palatinate, chosen King of
Bohemia. But the Protestants were overcome. Ferdinand II. tore up the
imperial pledge; led back the priests into authority, and expelled the
Protestant clergy. Certain concessions having been previously made to
the Protestants, Ferdinand II. issued in 1629 his infamous _Edict of
Restitution_, by which the Protestants were to deliver up all the
monasteries confiscated after the Treaty of Passau. Calvinists were
excluded from the Peace; and the Catholic States were granted
unconditional liberty to suppress Protestantism in their hereditary
countries.[16] The fearful carnage commenced in bitter earnestness. No
war was ever carried on with more desperation; none can be found more
repulsive in brutality, or more beautiful in fortitude and sublime in
bravery. Great sanguinary contests often receive their appellation from
the influences that produce them, or the nations conducting them; but
this one, extending from 1618 to 1648, combined all these elements to
such an extent that the historian finds it most convenient to denominate
it by the period of its duration. It was the bloody mould in which the
continent of Europe received its modern shape. It extended, with but
slight exceptions, over the entire extent of Germany. Some portions of
that singularly picturesque country were permitted to hope for immunity
from its devastations; but, by and by, they too were visited; and all
that remained were a decimated population and smoking ruins.
Pastoral work was necessarily neglected. Large sections of the country
were deprived of all spiritual cultivation and oversight. The children
were deprived of both their natural protectors and those guardians whom
the church had provided for them. Out of ten hundred and forty-six
pastors in Würtemberg, for example, only three hundred and thirty were
left by the ravages of war. Food could hardly be provided for the
Seminary students, few as these were; for nearly all the young men had
been compelled to yield to the repeated conscriptions. The princes
themselves were in many cases driven from their jurisdiction; and when
the prince was gone the church was usually disorganized. Duke Eberhard
of Würtemberg and many of the Rhenish rulers were compelled to seek an
asylum in Strasburg. The Margrave of Baden-Durlach was a refugee to
Switzerland; Dukes Adolph Frederic I. and John II. of Mecklenburg fled
to Lübeck.[17]
The desolation caused by this protracted war baffles all description. No
writer has been competent for it. Schiller found it a task to which even
his fervid imagination and glowing diction could not measure. Wherever
it went it left destruction in its path. The population of Bohemia was
reduced from three millions to seven hundred and eighty thousand. Only a
fiftieth part of the inhabitants of the Rhine-lands were left alive.
Saxony lost nine hundred thousand of her citizens within the brief space
of two years. The city of Augsburg could number only eighteen thousand
out of her enterprising population of eighty thousand. In 1646 alone,
Bavaria saw more than one hundred of her thriving towns laid in ashes;
while little Hesse lost seventeen cities, forty-seven castles, and four
hundred towns.
The cruelty which characterized some of the participants in this war may
be conceived from the awful scene of the siege of Magdeburg; a picture
for which, says Schiller, "History has no speech, and Poetry no pencil."
"Neither childhood, nor age," another author affirms, "nor sex, nor
rank, nor beauty were able to disarm the conqueror's wrath. Wives were
mishandled in the arms of their husbands, daughters at the feet of their
fathers. Women were found beheaded in a church, whilst the troopers
amused themselves by throwing infants into the flames, or by spearing
sucklings at their mothers' breasts. 'Come again in an hour,' was
Tilly's only reply when some of his officers (utterly horrified at what
they saw) besought him to put a hand upon this bath of blood:--'Come
again in an hour and I will see what I can do. The soldier must have
something for his labor and risk.' With unchecked fury did these horrors
go forward, till smoke and flame set bounds to plunder. The city had
been fired in several places; and a gale spread the flames with rampant
speed. In less than twelve hours the town lay in ashes; two churches,
and some few huts excepted. Scarcely had the rage of the fire slackened,
when the troops returned again to grope for plunder. Horrible was the
scene which now presented itself. Living men crept out from under
corpses; lost children, shrieking, sought their parents; infants were
sucking the dead breasts of their mothers. More than six thousand bodies
were thrown into the Elbe, before the streets could be made passable;
whilst an infinitely larger number were consumed by the fire. Thirty
thousand persons are supposed to have perished."[18]
At the outset of the war, and at many times during its continuance, the
Protestants fought with but little apparent prospect of success. But
their heroic zeal continued unabated until it was crowned with triumph.
The peace of Westphalia, which concluded the protracted struggle,
secured the abolition of the oppressive Decree of 1635; granted legal
rights to the Protestant churches; established Lutheranism in Central
Germany, Norway, Denmark, Sweden, and Livonia; recognized the Swiss and
Dutch Republics; and, under certain conditions, allowed future changes
of religion by princes and people.[19]
The religious effect of the first few years of this sanguinary period
was beneficial. There were indications of more seriousness in common
life, and a deeper love of truth among the thinking circles. The people
manifested a disposition to trust in the Divine arm for deliverance from
their sorrows; and this new confidence developed itself particularly in
benefactions for the impoverished and young. But as the war progressed
and peace seemed farther off with every new year, the heart of the
people relaxed into coldness, distrust, and desperation. Thus, dark as
was the picture of religious life before the outbreak of hostilities, it
was darker still during their progress and at their close. So literally
was this the case that Kahnis declares its termination to have been the
beginning of the reign of secularism. He says: "Up to the period of the
Thirty Years' War religion was the chief moving power of the time. The
question regarding the confession prevailed over everything, and even
secular questions, that they might excite interest and be carried, were
compelled to clothe themselves in the garb of religion. But the result
of the Thirty Years' War was indifference, not only to the confession,
but to religion in general. Ever since that period secular interests
decidedly occupy the foreground, and the leading power of Europe is
France."[20]
It shall now be our business to inquire into that dwarfed vitality which
Kahnis elevates so high as to denominate "religion." We believe that, in
all the course of ecclesiastical history on the Continent, no period of
equal intelligence is marked by the same degree of religious coldness
and petrifaction. Theology was a special sufferer. The most useful
departments were neglected, while the least essential were raised to
superlative importance. Andreä places the following language on the
neglect of the study of church history, in the mouth of Truth: "History,
since she is exiled with me, readily consents to be silent and laughs at
the experience of those who, because they can but relate their exploits
from the A. B. C. school to the Professor's chair, that is, from the rod
to the sceptre, dream that they are in possession of a compendium of the
whole world. Hence their city is to them a compendium of the world,
their class book a library, their school a monarchy, their doctor's cap
a diadem, their rod of office a lictor's staff, each scholastic rule an
anathema: in short everything appears to them exaggerated. Oh! the
hapless human learning that is shut up in these scholastic Athens, that
whatever offences may everywhere besides be committed by ignorance, all
the severest punishments are in store for these alone to overwhelm it."
Again, in his _Christianopolis_, or ideal Christian state, he says:
"Since the inhabitants of Christianopolis value the church above
everything else in this world, they are occupied in her history more
than in any other. For since this is the ark which contains those who
are to be saved, they prefer to busy themselves about it more than about
all the waters of the deluge. They relate then by what immense mercy of
God this soul flock was brought together, received into covenant, formed
by laws enforced by his word; by what weak instruments it was extended,
by what mighty engines attacked, by what manifest aid defended; what
blood and prayers its safety had cost; amid what anger of Satan the
standard of the Cross triumphed; how easily the tares spring up; how
often its light is contracted to a narrow space; what great eclipses,
and how very great and thick an one it suffered under Antichrist; how it
has sometimes emerged from desperate circumstances, and especially in
this our age under the mighty Luther; with what defilement and spots it
is often stained; how much it is conversant with the flesh. Many other
such things they have in store; as also its periodical changes, and the
harmonious vicissitudes of its seasons. They diligently impress them on
the youth that they may learn to trust in God, to mistrust the flesh, to
despise the threats of the world, to endure the darkness of this age.
And this is right, however others may not even dissemble their neglect
of ecclesiastical history; for how little any knowledge of it is now
required even from ecclesiastics, or how, where it is found, it is sold
cheap in comparison with a syllogism or two--it does not belong to this
place to discuss more at length."
The existing state of impiety may be inferred from the low estimate of
childhood. The Roman Catholic Church of that day was not so careful of
the indoctrination of the young as she is at the present time. Mathesius
says that in the twenty-five years he spent within her fold he had seen
no case in which the catechism had been elucidated, and that he had not
once heard it explained from the pulpit. Luther took great pains to have
children and the lowest classes trained in the elements of religious
knowledge. His express language, in reference to the catechetical
instruction of the young and ignorant was, "It is not merely enough that
they should be taught and counselled, but care must be taken that, in
the answers returned, every sentence must be evidently understood." But
like so many other lessons of the great Reformer, this was not
remembered by his successors; and in course of time all that the youth
and laboring classes could boast in favor of their doctrinal training
was a smattering of contemporary controversy. There were sermons and
expository lectures intended for children; but they were often at
unseasonable hours, and of such insufferable dryness as to tax the mind
and patience of maturity. A certain author, in a catalogue of this class
of literature, enumerates _fifteen hundred and ninety catechetical
sermons for the young that were directed solely against the Calvinists_!
No one is better able to inform us, however, of the low state of
religious training than he who labored most for its improvement.
Spener's language, though written in reference to the melancholy
prostration which his own eyes beheld, applies equally well to the very
time of which we speak:
"If one were to say that catechizing and the Christian instruction of
youth is one of the principal, most important, and most necessary of our
duties, and not of less value than preaching, would he not be
contradicted or even laughed at by many uninstructed preachers, or by
others ignorant of their duty, who seek only their own honor; as if such
care were too small and contemptible for an office instituted for more
important employment? Yet such is but the real truth. Meantime this duty
is by many considered so ridiculous that there are preachers who think
it degrading to their dignity to undertake it, or even see that it is
diligently and faithfully performed by those appointed to it. It is no
credit to our evangelical churches that catechetical instruction has
been so little or not at all thought of in so many places; though even
Luther recommended it so strongly, and gave us so many admirable
writings to promote it. But now it either does not exist at all, or is
performed negligently, and thrown almost entirely upon schools and
schoolmasters.
"These duties should not have been left to schoolmasters; for these are
almost wholly unfit to discharge them on account of their own meagre
attainments. But preachers should recollect that the souls of the
_youth_ are intrusted to them, and that they must give an account of
them. They should therefore submit to this as well as to the other
duties of their office. It is not indeed anywhere prescribed who among
them should perform these duties. In places where there are several
clergymen, and the pastors and superintendents are laden with so many
other occupations that they cannot perform this duty, we cannot object
to its being left for the deacons, or for others who may have more time
for it. In large churches able catechists might be appointed.
Superintendents, however, and theologians in high office would not do
amiss if they would sometimes countenance this exercise by their
presence, and even now and then perform it themselves in order to
encourage others. If there were some who would voluntarily commence it
themselves, _it would not be interpreted ill, or thought below their
dignity_.
"I have become acquainted with the character of most instructors of
youth, and I find that their real aim is not to lead the soul of youth
to God, but their pay also, that they are chiefly not fit to impart a
correct knowledge of God since they do not possess it themselves. And
indeed there are very many who have not a knowledge even of the _letter_
of that which is or is not to be believed; much less do they comprehend
thoroughly and spiritually what is the will of God in faith and its
fruits. Catechizing is as necessary to the church as any other religious
agency can be."
We have also the important authority of Calixtus on the sad condition of
the education of the young. "The chief cause and origin of the decay of
learning," says he, "now tending to extinction, (which may God avert!)
I hold for my own part, to be this:--that the younger children are not
well grounded in the minor schools. Foundations ought to be laid there,
which might afterwards support the whole weight of solid learning and
true erudition. The children ought to learn from genuine authors the
Greek and Latin languages; the Keys (as they are) of those treasures
which preceding ages have laid up for our use. And they ought so to
learn, as to be able to appreciate the thoughts of others (specially of
the best authors), and to express their own in suitable and perspicuous
words.... But now, in many places, we see the reverse of all this.
Before they can speak (passing by preposterously, the matters essential
to ultimate success), the boys are made to proceed, or rather leap, to
higher subjects; 'real' subjects, as we have learned to call them.
Pedagogues of this stamp seem to themselves learned, whilst they are
teaching what they have never themselves mastered; and what their
scholars neither understand, nor at their age _can_ understand. In the
mean time the writings of those good authors, who, by all past ages,
have been recognized as masters of literature and style, are struck out
of their hands, and they (the schoolmasters) substitute their own
comments; disputing in a circle of children about Anti-Christ and the
doctrine of predestination."[21]
The theological literature of these times was voluminous and confused. A
work on an unimportant subject would occupy a dozen volumes, and then
the writer would give his finishing touches with the apology that he had
not done justice to his theme. No nation publishes to such an extent as
Protestant Germany in the nineteenth century; but one cannot be
adequately convinced of the extent of the literary activity of her
theologians of the former half of the seventeenth century without
loitering among the alcoves of her antiquarian bookstores of the present
day. The dusty tomes testify, by their multitude and care, to the
character of the ecclesiastical age that gave them birth. The Germans do
not sell their old books to the paper merchants because they are old. It
is sacrilege to convert the printed sheet back again to pulp. The
libraries of the universities are located in those portions of the city
where land is cheap; the catalogue is a small library of itself. The
Leipzig Fair keeps much of this long-printed literature before the
world. It changes hands, migrates to Tübingen, Halle, or some other
book-loving place; passes through a generation of owners, and turns up
in some other spot, but little the worse for wear. The peasant is found
at the book auction; the professor considers it a white day when a
replenished purse and the sale of an old library are simultaneous facts.
And when the hour arrives, the preparations are sometimes of the most
comfortable and leisure-inviting character. We once attended an auction
in picturesque old Brunswick which continued three days; and coffee,
beer, sandwiches and other refreshments were freely enjoyed at frequent
intervals by nearly all present. Every one had a long breathing spell
when the auctioneer, or any one of his numerous secretaries, sipped his
coffee and replenished his pipe.
We cannot affirm that there was as much a deficiency of talent or
learning at the time of which we speak, as there was of an humble,
subdued religious spirit, and of clearness of conception, all of which
are equally necessary to give a high tone to theological writing and
thinking. Dr. Pusey says of the theologians, that "they were highly
learned but deficient in scientific spirit, freedom from prejudice,
destitute of comprehensive and discriminating views, without which mere
knowledge is useless." An illustration is furnished in Calov's mammoth
production, entitled, _Systema locorum Theologicorum e sacra potissimum
scriptura et antiquitate, nec non adversariorum confessione doctrinam,
praxia et controversiarum fidei, cum veterum tum inprimis recentiorum
pertractationem luculentam exhibens_. The author tried faithfully to
redeem his pledge; and though he asserted that he had aimed at
conciseness, his work only terminated with the twelfth quarto volume!
The subject of the first part was the nature of Theology, Religion,
Divine Inspiration, Holy Scriptures, and the articles of Faith. He
defined Theology to be, that practical skill in the knowledge of true
religion, as drawn from divine revelation, which is calculated to lead
man after the fall through faith to eternal life. One of the important
questions propounded is:
"Are the Calvinists to be considered heretics, and do they not teach
very dangerous errors?" Of course an affirmative reply is returned with
cogent reasons therefor. At the end of this part there is a prolix
recital of the many errors of George Calixtus and his followers. Calov
conformed to the _causal_ method of composition. There were two systems
of arrangement in vogue, the _causal_ and _defining_. Under the former
were grouped the _causæ principales, et minus principales,
instrumentales, efficientes, materiales, formales, finales_. Under the
latter, a definition was prefixed to each article, which comprised the
whole doctrine of the church and all the opposed heresies. This was then
redundantly illustrated until the subject was supposed to be exhausted.
Schertzer, in his doctrinal work, begins with a definition of Christ,
and occupies three quarto pages with one sentence. We venture only its
commencement: "Christ is God-man; God and man, born of his heavenly
Father and his virgin mother; and Christ is according to his humanity
the natural son of God, constant in his unity to one person, his divine
and human nature impeccable." The favorite class-book of those times was
Koenig's _Theologia positiva acroamatica synoptice tractata_; and it
does but partial justice to this work to say that in dryness and
meagreness it almost defies a parallel.
There was a lamentable decrease of exegetical works and lectures toward
the middle of the seventeenth century. The Reformation was the signal
for Scriptural study; and the Reformers declared the word of God to be
the origin of their gigantic movement. All the ordinances of the early
Lutheran Church were in strict keeping with this principle. The Elector
Augustus, in his church order of 1580, established professors _solely
for the elucidation_ of the Scriptures. He appointed two to lecture on
the Old Testament, one on the Pentateuch and the other on the prophets;
and two on the New Testament. His command was, that they should all read
the Scriptures, as far as they could, in the same languages in which the
prophets and apostles had written. Many of the universities had no other
professors of theology than exegetical lecturers. The languages of the
Bible were diligently studied, and great progress was made in their
scientific understanding.
But after the rise of the long and exciting controversies of which we
have spoken, the death-blow was given to Scriptural interpretation. The
method of theological study was to spend the first year in learning what
is orthodox. The second was occupied in obtaining a knowledge of
controversies; the third was devoted to the Scriptures, a more intimate
knowledge of controversial literature, and the scholastics. One day in
the week was spent with the Fathers, Church Councils, and moral
theology. The later years were chiefly consumed in controversial
practice, as a preparation for the great arena. Francke as truthfully
described these times as his own when he said: "Youths are sent to the
universities with a moderate knowledge of Latin; but of Greek and
especially of Hebrew they have next to none. And it would even then have
been well, if what had been neglected before had been made up in the
universities. There, however, most are borne, as by a torrent, with the
multitude; they flock to logical, metaphysical, ethical, polemical,
physical, pneumatical lectures and what not; treating least of all those
things whose benefit is most permanent in their future office,
especially deferring, and at last neglecting, the study of the sacred
languages."
But while there were many evidences of religious torpor there were none
more marked and unmistakable than the preaching of that time. The pulpit
being an invariable index of the state of the national heart, it was not
less the case during the present period. The preaching was of the most
formal and methodical texture. It assumed a rhetorical and poetical
appearance; the people calling it the _Italian style_. Petrarch had
given shape to Italian thought, and through his influence Germany became
sated with poetic imagery and overwrought fancy. Sagittarius founded a
stipend for the preaching of a yearly sermon in the University Church
"which should be more a practical illustration of Christian doctrine
than of _lofty speech_." Emblematical sermons were sometimes delivered
in lengthy series.
Christopher Sunday descanted on the _Perpetual Heart-Calendar_, treating
of genera and species, and dividing his themes into "Remarkable,
Historical, and Annual events, Particular numbers, and the amounts of
Roman currency, the Four Seasons, the Seven Planets, the Twelve Heavenly
signs, and many aspects and useful directions." All these, this divine
claimed, are to be found in the Gospel as in a perpetual calendar of the
heart. Another preacher adopted as his theme for a funeral sermon, _The
Secret of Roses and Flowers_. Daniel Keck preached a discourse in 1642
from Romans viii. 18, calling his subject "The Apostolic Syllogism,"
dividing it into _subject_, _predicate_, and _conclusion_. The subject,
_suffering_, was again divided into _wicked_, _voluntary_, _stolid_ and
_righteous_; and these further classed into _natural_, _civil_ and
_spiritual_ suffering.
A sermon on Zaccheus from the words, _He was little of stature_, claims
for its theme, "The stature and size of Zaccheus." The first division
is, _he_; the second, _was_; third, _small stature_. Application
_first_, The text teaches us the variety of God's works; _second_, it
consoles the poor; _third_, it teaches us to make amends for our
personal defects by virtue. Tholuck well asks, who would imagine that
the author of this sermon was the minstrel of "When the early sun
arises," "Oh Jesus, all thy bleeding wounds," and so many other deeply
earnest Christian songs which have touched the hearts of many
generations,--the immortal Hermann von Köben? A pastor of Wernigerode
preached from Matthew x. 30. His divisions were, 1: Our hair--its
origin, style, form and natural circumstances. 2: On the right use of
the human hair. 3: The memories, admonition, warning and consolation
that have come from the human hair. 4: How hair can be used in a
Christian way! A Brunswick pastor commenced his Sabbath discourse on one
occasion with the words, "A preacher must have three things; a _good
conscience_, a _good bite_, and a _good kiss_;" wherefore his transition
was made to the theme under consideration: "_an increase of my salary_."
But it is needless to continue illustrations of the almost universal
dearth of preaching. One hardly knows whether to laugh at its absurdity
or weep over its prostitution.
Andreä's caustic pen revelled in satire at the depreciation of this
important agency of good. Some of his ideas are by no means ill-timed in
the present century. In the Dialogue of the Pulpit Orator he thus
speaks:[22]
A. Tell me earnestly, I pray you, what you find wanting in my
present sermon.
B. One thing only, but that a main point.
A. It cannot be in the arrangement?
B. It was, I believe, according to all the rules of the
methods.
A. Then the pronunciation was defective?
B. You must speak as God has made you; only you must not be an
imitator.
A. Then the action was wrong?
B. About that I am indifferent, if it be only quiet and not
gesticulatory.
A. My sermon must have been much too long?
B. _If a sermon be good it can't be too long: a bad one always
is._
A. Certainly I did not produce illustrations enough?
B. You could not have meant to empty a basket of quotations.
A. Then I spoke too slow?
B. Ha! In the pulpit we must teach, not talk too volubly.
A. I should have spoken louder too?
B. I like the voice of man, not the braying of an ass.
A. Should I not have used more subtle distinctions?
B. You were there to instruct the ignorant, not to dispute
with heretics.
A. Do then explain yourself more fully.
B. Hear me: you said, "I think much, very much," which was
good, but it only flowed through you as through a pipe.
A. Indeed!
B. Thus, much contracted the taste of the pipe and savored
accordingly.
A. No good compliment, this.
B. It is the best I can make. For when you only cast forth
good and wholesome doctrines, and show nothing of them
expressed in your life and manners, are you not placed out of
yourself to speak one thing and think another? You make us
believe that your holy words are only practised solemn words,
without any real feeling, just as poets make bridal songs and
funeral dirges whenever called upon. You have many passages of
Scripture in readiness; but they do not exhort, strengthen and
instruct you, though others die with joy at hearing the divine
word.
A. You are severe upon me.
B. It is not often the case that the worst men preach the
best. I wish but one thing: that for the future you should say
nothing but what you express in action by your example, or at
least realize by serious endeavors after obedience to God.
A. This is harsh enough.
B. It is incomparably harsher, however, to openly contradict
oneself before God both in words and works, and to convert the
divine service into an empty clatter of words.
A. You speak truly.
B. And it is just as true, believe me, that a simple, plain
sermon, exhibited and sealed by your life, is more valuable
than a thousand clever declamations.
This want of consistency between the profession of the clergy and their
daily life is indeed a dark picture. While we would not forget that
there were noble exceptions to all the examples of declension that we
have adduced, and that there were also exemplary illustrations of
ministerial devotion amid all the deformity of these times, we must
maintain that the ministerial spirit which characterized this period was
not merely cold and indifferent, but wicked, and to a great extent
abandoned.
The scenes of clerical immorality are enough to chill one's blood even
at the distance of more than two centuries. The preachers were not
licensed to preach until they had been graduated through a course of
study extending from five to ten years. According to the judgment of the
Lutheran Church, they must be fitted intellectually for exercising the
functions of their office. But after settlement over the churches of the
land, their conduct furnishes a sad proof that their intellectual
qualifications were utterly barren without the more important adjunct of
spiritual regeneration. They were not converted men, as the sequel will
plainly show. The salary allowed them was usually small; and this is the
apology pleaded for them by their friends; but scanty salaries are the
outgrowth of scanty ministerial piety. The people, in no age of the
world, have refused a proper and sufficient support to a zealous,
God-fearing ministry.
A Church Order of 1600 reads thus: "Since we have received information
that servants of the church (clergy) and schoolmasters, the parochial
teachers, are guilty of whoredom and fornication, we command that if
they are _notoriously_ guilty they shall be suspended. We learn, too,
that some of the village pastors do not possess the Bible. We command
that they shall get a Bible and Concordance. Those whom we formerly
suspended shall remain so until they give proof of a reformation." A
pastor Pfeifer of Neukirchen and Lassau lived five unhappy years with
his congregation; and from mere private prejudice refused the sacrament
of the Lord's Supper to the sick and dying. On communion-day he
overturned the baskets of the fish-venders; was wounded for his conduct;
and then went into his church to the performance of his ministerial
duties. He did not scruple to administer the elements with his bloody
hands. Pastor Johansen of Detzböll wrote in his Church Record in 1647,
the following: "The persons whom I will name have persecuted me in my
office, but God delivered me miraculously out of their hands. J. Dirksen
struck me down with a pitchfork: I was taken home as dead but recovered
again; some years afterwards he was struck dead, and died in the street.
J. Volkwartsen struck me with my own spade. Subsequently he was killed
by his brother. Where his soul went, God only knows. P. Peusen was on
the point of stabbing me through, but M. Payens saved me. A. Frese
committed adultery with my wife, and followed me with a loaded rifle. D.
Momsen broke two of my right ribs: he apologized afterwards for his
offence. I forgave him. O Jesus, protect me and thy poor Christianity,
that I may praise thee in eternity!" A church made the following charges
against its pastor: I. He called certain people "scoundrels" from the
pulpit; to which the offender pleaded "guilty." II. He had grown so
angry in his sermon that he afterwards forgot the Lord's Prayer. He
urged that "this had happened some time ago." III. When some women went
out after the sermon, he called after them, and told them that if they
would not stop to receive the blessing they would have his curse; "not
guilty." IV. He had cohabited with a servant girl, and an illegitimate
child was born; "others do the same thing." V. He forgot the cup at the
communion; "that happened long ago." VI. He said to the officer, "All
are devils who want me to go to Messing;" "that is true."
There were sad evidences of the same immorality in University life.
Melanchthon's prophecy had proved too true: "We have seen already how
religion has been put in peril by the irruption of barbarism, _and I am
very much afraid that this will happen again_." At a Disputation in the
University of Wittenberg, the Chancellor addressed a disputant with such
epithets as "Hear, thou hog! thou hound! thou fool! or whatever thou
art, thou stolid ass!" Another prominent personage of Wittenberg, in a
Disputation, became so enraged at hearing Melanchthon addressed as
authority against him, that he pulled down the great Reformer's picture
which hung near him, and trampled it under his feet. One Professor was
so deeply in debt that he could not pay his creditors, "if every hair on
his head were a ducat." Another was "in bed with seven wounds received
in a fall when he was coming home drunk." Some read their newspapers at
church-service. Nor did the wives and daughters of the Professors lead
any better life. They were guilty of deeds of the grossest immorality,
such indeed as would disgrace a less enlightened people than the Germans
at that period.[23]
The great moral decline of the clergy was confined chiefly to the
Lutheran church. The Reformed was earnest, pious, and aggressive. At
this very time it was endeavoring to spread the leaven of the Gospel
through other lands. It was, during the whole period, the conservative
power of Protestantism. As might be expected, it suffered somewhat from
the declension of Lutheranism; but it stood manfully up to the crisis,
and met the issues with an heroic spirit. When the Roman Catholics saw
these excesses of the Lutherans, and witnessed the return to their fold
of many Protestants who had become disgusted with the vices of their
brethren, they rejoiced greatly, and used every available means to bring
back more of their erring friends.
We must remember, however, that it was the clergy and not the laity, who
were the agents of the great declension. The theologians had submerged
the land in fruitless controversy; they hesitated not to commit open sin
when occasion demanded it; they neglected the youth of the whole
country; the ignorant peasantry were not blessed with even the crumbs of
truth; the pulpit was perverted to a cathedra for the declamation of the
hyperbolical rhetoric that a corrupt taste had imported from Spain and
Italy: the Apocrypha was the all-important part of the Bible; and the
private life of the clergy was corrupt and odious to the Christian
conscience. "What wonder that the piety of the people suffered a similar
decline? Let the ministry be steadfast, and the masses will never
swerve." The result in the present case was, that the latter gradually
became imbued with the same impiety that they had learned, to their
sorrow, of the former.
Glancing first at the cultivated circles, we find a practical
indifference well nigh akin to skepticism beginning to prevail among the
noble and wealthy. The deference which the Reformers paid to the princes
led the latter to a too free exercise of their power, and there are
numberless instances of their despotic usurpations. They claimed supreme
control over the religious interests of their jurisdiction, and came
into frequent conflict with the ecclesiastical tribunals. They
maintained a tolerable show of religion, however, considering it a
matter of prime importance to have the services of chaplains, and to
give due public prominence to doctrinal questions. Their courts were
most generally irreligious, and sometimes notoriously corrupt.
Walther, the court chaplain of Ulrich II. of East Friesland, wrote in
1637 a letter from which we take the following words: "I would much
rather be silent concerning my sore misfortune, which I am here
undergoing than, by speaking, to make the wounds of my heart break out
afresh. These infernal courtiers, among whom I am compelled to live
against my will, doubt those truths which even the heathen have learned
to believe." A writer of 1630 describes three classes of skeptics among
the nobility of Hamburg; _first_, those who believe that religion is
nothing but a mere fiction, invented to keep the masses within
restraint; _second_, those who give preference to no faith, but think
that all religions have a germ of truth; and _third_, those confessing
that there must be one true religion, are unable to decide whether it is
papal, Calvinist, or Lutheran; and consequently believe nothing at all.
This classification might be applied to the whole of Protestant Germany,
as far as the higher classes are concerned. They exhibited a growing
taste for antiquity; and, with them, there was but a slight difference
between the sublime utterances of inspiration and the masterpieces of
pagan genius. We find in a catechism of that time that the proverbs of
Cato and the _Mimi Publiani_ constitute an authorized appendix.
A practical infidelity, bearing the name of Epicureanism, prevailed even
before the war; and it became more decided and injurious as the war
progressed. The highest idea of religion was adherence to creed. Princes
who even thought themselves devoted and earnest, had no experimental
knowledge of regeneration; and in this, as we have shown, they were but
little surpassed by the clergy themselves. Orthodoxy was the aim and
pride of those religionists. Hear the dying testimony of John Christian
Koenig, in 1664: "My dear Confessor, since I observe that the good Lord
is about to take me out of this world, I want it understood that I
remain unchanged and firm to the Augsburg Confession; I will live by it
and die true to it. It is well known that I have directed my teaching
according to its truths. _I die the avowed enemy of all innovation and
Syncretistic error!_"
The licentiousness of life, not less than of faith, was deplorable in
the German courts. Dancing was carried to great excess and indecorum;
and though there were edicts issued against it during the Thirty Years'
War, the custom seems to have undergone but little abatement.
Drunkenness was very common, and even the highest dignitaries set but a
sorry example in this respect. The Court of Ludwig of Würtemberg
established six glasses of wine as the minimum evidence of good
breeding; one to quench the thirst; the second for the King's health;
the third for those present; the fourth for the feast-giver and his
wife; the fifth for the permanence of the government, and the last for
absent friends. The example of all nations proves that when the nobility
thus indulge themselves, and become the devotees of passion and luxury,
they do not need to wait long for imitators among the lower and poorer
classes. The poor looked to the rich and their rulers as standards of
fashion and religion. They esteemed it not less an honor than a
privilege to follow in the footsteps of their acknowledged chiefs. The
governing and the governed stood but a short distance from each other,
both in faith and in morals.
There was great display and extravagance in the ordinary ceremonies of
matrimony and baptism. It was quite common for the wedding festival to
last three days, and the baptismal feast two days. The expenses were not
at all justified by the means of the feast-makers; for the humblest
mechanics indulged themselves to an excessive extent. Even funeral
occasions were made to subserve the dissipating spirit of these times;
they were the signal for hilarity and feasting. Distant friends were
invited to be present; and the whole scene was at once repulsive to a
healthy taste and pure religion. A writer from the very midst of the
Thirty Years' War gives us the following item: "The number of courses
served at funerals frequently amounted to as many as two hundred and
thirty-four. The tables were furnished with expensive luxuries and
costly wines, and the people gave themselves up to feasting and rioting
until far into the night." The common people became more habituated to
drinking strong liquors. New breweries arose in various localities, and
drunkenness became a wide-spread evil. In 1600, the city of Zwickau
numbered only ten thousand inhabitants; but it could claim thirty-four
breweries to supply them with beer. During the war, in 1631, that number
rose to seventy.
But it is needless to particularize the phases of popular immorality as
they existed in the time of which we speak. It is enough to say that all
classes betrayed a growing disgust at religion and a gradual decline in
morals. The danger was imminent that the great work of the Reformation
would be in vain, and that it would soon come to ruin.
Every department of ecclesiastical authority having become disarranged
and weakened, there must now be a reäwakening, or the labors of Luther
and his coadjutors will be swept away. The popular mind should be
deflected from controversy, and become united, at least on some points
of faith and theory. The pulpit needs a thorough regeneration, and the
Gospel should reach the masses by a natural and earnest method. The
university system calls for reorganization, and a rigid censorship
exercised upon the teachings of the professors. Childhood must be no
longer neglected, and the illiterate must become indoctrinated into the
elements of Scriptural truth. The prevalent social evils should receive
severe rebuke from the private Christian and the public teacher.
Calixtus, Boehme, Arndt and Gerhard have done nobly, but they have
pursued paths so totally divergent that their labors have not produced
all the good effects of a _united_ work. Their efforts were
preparatory, but not homogeneous; and what is now needed to make their
writings and example permanently effective, is a plan for infusing new
life into the church. Then there must be inflexible system and heroic
determination for the consummation of such a plan.
When the demand became most imperative, the great want was supplied. Let
all the records of providential supply and guidance be studiously
searched, and we believe that Pietism--the great movement which we are
now about to trace--will take its place among them as one of the
clearest, most decided, and most triumphant.
FOOTNOTES:
[16] Kurtz, _Church History_, vol. 11, p. 177.
[17] Tholuck, _Das Kirchliche Leben des Siebzehnten Jahrhunderts. Erste
Abtheilung._ For much information in the present chapter we are greatly
indebted to this valuable repository.
[18] Dowding, _Life and Correspondence of Calixtus_, pp. 153-154.
[19] _H. B. Smith, D. D., History of Church of Christ in Chronological
Tables_, pp. 56-61.
[20] _History of German Protestantism_, p. 21.
[21] _Orationes Selectæ_, Henke, vol. 1, pp. 285-286.
[22] We use Dr. E. B. Pusey's version of Andreä's words.
[23] 1602: Der Frau Gerlach (Prof. Theol.) Tochter ist in Geschrei, dass
sie mit einem kinde gelie. 1613: Dr. Happrecht's Tochter hat ihre
Jungfrauschaft verloren. 1622: Dr. Magirus klagt dass seine Frau die
Dienstboten ihm nicht zur Disposition stelle, mit den _Alimentis_ nicht
zufrieden sei, immer Gäste einlade, und viel herum laufe. Frau Magirus
klagt ihren Ebemann des Ehebruchs an. Tholuck, _Deutsche Universitäten_.
Vol. 1, pp. 145-148. Also Dowding, _Life and Correspondence of
Calixtus_, pp. 132-133.