KATHARINE IN TROUBLE, AND DR. MARTIN IN STRIFE
WITH HIS FRIENDS.
More than a year had passed. The Autumn of 1524 had come, busily
destroying whatever the summer had wrought. In the streets the wind
played his pranks with the first fallen leaves. On the housetops the
swallows held noisy counsel together, as to their flight to the sunny
Southern land, whither the storks had already preceded them.
It was Sunday morning. Crowds streamed from the town church at
Wittenberg, where Luther had preached. In eager groups they stood
about the market-place; and noticeable among these was the syndic,
Philip Reichenbach, engaged in lively conversation with a courtly
looking man in a rich dress, whose handsome, intelligent face was of
a rare, artistic type. A long beard fell down upon his breast. This
was the court-painter and Senator, Lucas Kranach.
"I scarcely trusted my eyes," exclaimed the syndic, eagerly
gesticulating, "when I saw Brother Martin appear in the priest's
frock, instead of his monkish habit. My heart rejoices, for the ugly
cowl no longer suited him. After he has inwardly put away the monk's
life, why should he continue to wear its outward sign? The old gown,
worn and threadbare as it is, has earned its rest. But it pleases me
little that he continues in the monastery, when all the monks, save
the Prior Eberhard Brisger, have gone away. It were better he broke
with all monkish habits."
"It is well known, dear friend," said Kranach, "that Dr. Martin has
small regard for outward appearances. He may have good reasons for
continuing in the convent. It is said that the Elector intends to
make him a gift of it."
The syndic opened his eyes. "What! and would he receive such a gift?"
"Why not?" asked the other. "It is an evidence of favor on the
Elector's part."
"Hm," said Reichenbach, "as you take it. There he sits, alone in the
great, dreary, half-ruined house, with no woman's hand to minister to
his wants. All that he teaches concerning the blessed Gospel is
clear and plain to me; as he teaches, so he lives; and if anything in
his words seemed difficult to understand, it is made clear by his
life. But this passes my understanding--that, while he encourages
priests and monks to enter the state of matrimony and commends it, as
one that is holy and well-pleasing to God, yet he, for his own
person, will have none of it. Even to Albert of Brandenburg, the
Grand Master of the German Order, he gave the advice: 'Throw aside
the habit of your order, take a wife, and put a Duke's crown upon
your head,' which the great lord has followed, to the joy of all
believers, and of Luther especially. It is known that he urged the
Archbishop of Mayence, to follow the example of his cousin of
Prussia. And does he not give his friends cause for doubting the
earnestness of his teaching, or for fearing that he lacks courage,
himself to enter the state which he commends to others?"
Lucas Kranach nodded assent. "I think with you, and I wish with all
my heart, that Luther were of another mind in this matter, not only
for the sake of his friends and the good cause, but for his own.
Truly, if matters continue thus, we shall soon weep behind his bier;
and then, the Lord only knows what will become of the world. He
daily prepares himself for death, being of the opinion that the work
will prosper without him, it being God's work, who is able to carve
Himself a Dr. Martin out of a willow twig. But I regard it
otherwise, namely, that God will not throw aside His chosen
instruments until his purpose is accomplished, and the world cannot
yet forego Luther's services. But that he may carry out what he has
begun, he must not continue alone--without care or service. Even
though his bones were of iron, and his nerves of steel, yet the
giant's task, which rests upon his shoulders, will bear him down,
without a faithful housewife at his side, who will care for the wants
of his body. His spirit is oftentimes so lost in heavenly matters,
as to forget that the body craves rest and nourishment. Only the
other day I found him sitting in his chair, faint and pale, and at my
questioning he confessed that over the translation of the Psalms, he
had passed two days and two nights without food or drink. When at
night, wearied with the day's work, he lies down upon his bed, it is
a hard one, and no gentle hand has smoothed his pillow. Oh, that God
would guide his heart to choose a wife who would be a helpmeet for
him! He would soon recover his strength and be of good courage. But
where indeed," continued Kranach with a sigh, "where is the woman
worthy of such a man?" He paused, and his eyes wandered over the
crowded square. "See," he exclaimed, "yonder goes your dear wife
with Mistress Katharine! Is it true, as I have been told, that the
Reverend Doctor Caspar Glatz has sued for her hand?"
Reichenbach's face was clouded with annoyance, as he answered: "You
touch upon a matter which troubles me sorely. You doubtless heard
that young Baumgaertner, who at one time pursued her with his loving
glances, soon forgot our Kate, and took the wife his father had
chosen for him! I am almost glad of it, for Kate now sees that I was
in the right, and that the youth, by reason of his light mind and
fickle heart, was unworthy of her. But I am distressed at this suit
of Dr. Glatz, which Luther favors, thinking Katharine, as a former
nun, most fitted to become the wife of a God-fearing priest. He is a
good man, and if the sacrifice must needs be made, I would rather
give her to him than to many another. But behold, since Master
Nicholas von Amsdorf came at Luther's bidding, to press the Doctor's
suit, she is wholly changed. She heard him in silence, then burst
into tears and said: 'Reverend sir, love cannot be forced or
commanded; it must be given by God. My heart is cold toward him you
bid me marry, and I never could be to him what a Christian wife
should be, according to God's word and command. Do not urge me, for
I would rather continue in my present condition all my life, than
give my hand to Dr. Glatz.' When Amsdorf represented to her that
Luther would be ill-pleased at her refusal, her tears flowed afresh,
and she begged that he might not be told; but that she herself would
acquaint him with her decision. When on that same day Luther came to
us, there was a scene which brought the tears to our eyes. Katharine
fell at his feet, and spoke as I have never heard her speak. The
Doctor dealt with her as a father with his child, comforted her with
gentle, kindly words, and promised not to torment her any further,
but to leave the matter in God's hands. After she had gone away, he
sat with us for an hour longer, looking very serious, and spoke to us
in such moving words, that it was easy to see how greatly he was
disturbed by Katharine's trouble. After musing for some moments, he
said: 'Now I understand, my friend, why you fear to lose Katharine.
She is indeed a treasure, and a maiden after God's own heart. I am
vexed with myself, that I have hitherto regarded her so little, when
I am really her guardian and her spiritual father.' Since that day
Katharine no longer stands timidly aloof from the Doctor, but is
ready at all times to speak with him; and if he commends her
housewifely virtues and maidenly reserve, her face beams with
pleasure."
Lucas Kranach, who had listened with much attention, replied: "Yes,
Katharine is of an excellent disposition, and grows ever dearer to
me. I was heartily glad for her sake, when the exiled King of
Denmark, during his recent visit in Wittenberg, gave her a golden
ring, in acknowledgment of her womanly virtues. But God forbid, that
such distinction should make her vain!"
"Do not fear," Reichenbach replied; "her mind is not set upon high
things."
In the meantime they had reached the Augustinian monastery, where
Luther lived. Two wayfarers, who had doubtless asked help of the
Doctor, were coming out of the door; for no one in Wittenberg was so
frequently sought out by the poor and needy, as was the Professor
with his salary of 22 thalers and 12 groschen. He gave his last
coin, and when that was spent, he did not spare the silver cup, which
had been a gift from the Elector.
"Come, let us wish the Doctor a good day," said Kranach. "I desire
to thank him for his sermon."
They crossed the court, and passing through a long, dark passage,
reached Luther's cell. They found him sitting at his table--a large
pile of letters before him. He received his friends with evident
pleasure.
"Welcome, dear friends! See here--my Sunday-guests, who see to it
that Doctor Martin shall have no rest even on this blessed day. They
all seem to be wedding-guests. Yes, you may well stare--to-day all
my friends would have me marry. Here is a letter from my good
friend, Mistress Argula von Grumbach, who with many words urges me to
establish by my own act my doctrine of priestly marriage, and by my
own example to encourage others. Here is another from Pastor Link in
Altenburg. He announces the birth of a daughter. Here again, my
father resumes his old litany, and speaks with such moving words,
that methinks I must reach out after the first maiden I can find.
Now tell me, dear friends, are not these merry Sunday-guests?"
Lucas Kranach answered earnestly: "Perhaps they are God's messengers
to you, Martin. Your friends are in danger of losing faith in your
teachings, if you continue in your present course."
Luther shook his head, where the tonsure had almost disappeared under
his curly hair.
"Do my friends so little understand me? See, dearest Lucas, by what
I have said concerning the sanctity and the necessity of priestly
marriage, I will abide forevermore. For according to God's Word,
there is no condition on earth more blessed than that of marriage,
which God Himself has instituted and sanctified for men of every
degree, and in which state not only kings and princes and saints,
but, although in a different manner, even the eternal Son of God, was
born. Yet for myself, I have no thought of taking a wife. My
enemies are busy enough; for to the slanders of the Papists are added
the revilings of the 'heavenly prophets,' in whose name the
ill-conditioned Thomas Munzer has published a pamphlet 'against the
ungodly, soft-living flesh at Wittenberg.' Were I to marry, they
would speedily cry out: 'Aha, now we see what his Gospel means--to
serve the flesh and live in ease!' This fear makes even my friends
to hesitate, and Dr. Schurf said but lately: 'If this monk took a
wife, the devils would laugh, and the angels would weep;' and my dear
Philip Melanchthon, who stood by, added: 'Yes, the Papists are
watching for it; and if he did this thing, he would work his doctrine
greater harm than the Pope's excommunication or the Emperor's
interdict were able to do.' Moreover, who would think of marrying in
these troublous times, when peasants have gone mad, when castles and
convents are burning on all sides, and streams of innocent blood are
flowing? Nor do I experience within myself the least inclination
thereto. I am indeed in the Lord's hand, who can turn my heart and
mind whenever it pleases Him. But as I am now disposed, I will not
take a wife. Not that I am of wood or stone, but my mind is averse
to marriage, and I daily anticipate a heretic's doom. Nor would I
harden my heart, or reason with the Lord--but I trust that He will
not suffer me to abide much longer in this world. Finally, when I
advocated the marriage of priests, I did not thereby intend to impose
a new sort of bondage, or to place a new yoke upon men's necks, like
the unhappy Karlstadt, who would perforce compel every priest to
marry. There shall be perfect liberty in this matter--either to do,
or to leave undone."
Luther spoke in a tone of such very decided conviction, that Kranach
did not venture to reply. He grasped the Doctor's hand, asking his
friend's pardon with his eyes. Reichenbach also arose, and said
gently: "God will provide!"
The two men took their leave, and Luther, being much wearied, called
Wolfgang, and bade him read aloud to him the remaining letters.