"AS SORROWING, YET ALWAYS REJOICING."
It was the season, when summer gives place to autumn; when the
evenings grow long, and the lamps are lighted early.
In his study, Dr. Martin was seated at his great oaken table busily
writing. A hanging lamp shed a pleasant light, and the stove of
green tiles diffused a cheerful warmth. A brown spaniel lay curled
up on the floor. On the wall near the book-shelves hung a handsome
clock in a tall, slender case of polished cedar-wood, whose long
pendulum gravely measured the seconds. It had been a bridal gift
from the Protestant Abbot Frederick, of Nuremberg.
Beside her husband sat Katharine with her spinning wheel. She was
dressed in a simple gown of black woollen stuff, and her hair was
hidden under a white coif. From time to time her eyes turned with a
loving, reverent glance toward her husband. The silence was
unbroken, save by the scratching of Luther's pen, the humming of
Katharine's wheel, and the crackling of the fire.
Suddenly the spindle slipped and fell to the floor with a crash,
which startled the Doctor out of his meditations. Katharine rose in
dismay. "Do not be angry, dearest Doctor, I will go elsewhere, lest
my carelessness disturb you."
Luther looked up. "Not so, dear Kate. Have I not often told you
that your presence is not a hindrance, but rather a help to me? I
once imagined that a man who was unencumbered by a wife and by the
cares of a household, could work with more profit. But I have
learned to think differently. It seems as though my thoughts were
freer, and my pen more ready, when you are near me. Every day I
thank my God for the good and faithful wife He has given me. As I
expected, my enemies make more noise than ever, and I am a worse
heretic, in consequence of my marriage, than when I touched the
pope's crown and the monks' soft living. But I am of good cheer
nevertheless. For if my marriage is God's work, small wonder that
the world is offended at it. Is it not an offence to the world, that
the Creator gave His life as a ransom for mankind? If the world were
my friend, I should fear that my work was not of God."
Katharine listened with increasing delight. "Ah, dearest Doctor,
your speech makes my heart glad. When the evil-speakers attacked me,
they caused me many a sleepless night. But my sorrow was ten times
greater, when you for my sake experienced an increase of enmity.
When you tell me that you rejoice at the world's displeasure, I too
am comforted. If our enemies had eyes to see, they would cease to
speak evil of us, and rather envy the calm and peaceful happiness
which marriage has brought us."
Luther laid down his pen and said: "Yes, dear wife, you speak truly.
Marriage is a holy place, with an altar, upon which incense is
continually burning. All the troubles of life grow light, when each
bears the other's burdens. I have a pious, faithful wife, to whom I
may safely entrust all I have, even my own life. And you, Kate, have
a God-fearing husband, who loves you, and esteems you more highly,
than the kingdom of France, or the principality of Venice."
With a blush Katharine asked, as she bent over the table: "What are
you writing, Doctor?"
Luther took up a sheet of paper: "See," he said, "these words are
blows designed for a crowned head,--that of King Henry of England.
Do not be alarmed, dear Kate,--Dr. Martin, whom he calls a "mangy
dog" and a "hellish wolf," will tell him what will subdue his lofty
spirit. I had well-nigh forgotten what he wrote against me in 1521,
and silence would have been the fittest answer to such unkingly
language; but when, on the occasion of my marriage, he renewed his
attacks in vile words, I could no longer keep silence. Would you
hear what I have written?"
As Katharine seemed eager to hear, he read aloud to her the first
pages of his manuscript.
She seemed much pleased. "Ah, Doctor, how softly you tread! This
pleases me well, and I would beg of you in future also to restrain
your anger, for with calmness and deliberation one can deal more
telling blows, than with hasty words--and perhaps in the end win the
enemy's good-will."
With a smile, the Doctor took his wife's hand. "I thank you for such
words. Although a woman's duty does not lie in meddling with her
husband's business, yet a man suffers no harm, if his wife exhorts
him to peace and gentleness, and by her example induces him to make
these virtues his own. I confess that I have often yielded to my
anger, and have poured oil upon the flames, when perhaps with
moderation and patience I might have quenched the fire. In this
matter you shall be my taskmaster, and I will thank God for the
faithful friend he has given me in you."
Voices were heard outside, and presently Dorothy, the maid-servant,
entered with a roll of paper. "A messenger stands without, who
charged me to deliver this into Dr. Luther's hands."
Luther opened the roll and found therein letters from two Leipsic
theologians--a Latin address to himself, from Master Joachim von der
Heyden, and a German one to Katharine, signed by Master John
Hasenberg, otherwise Myricianus.
"See here," laughed Luther, "Katharine Luther has become a famous
woman, since learned writings are addressed to her!"
With mock solemnity he placed one of the papers in her hand. But he
laughed no more, when he read the one directed to himself, and
Katharine's face paled and flushed by turns, as she acquainted
herself with the contents of the other. She was unable to finish.
It seemed as though her heart must stop its beating, when Martin
Luther, the object of her deepest veneration, was assailed in foul
language, and the advice was given her, to flee from his unholy
presence, and return to the heavenly Bridegroom, with whom she had
broken her faith. With pain and dread her eyes sought her husband's
face, where a dark cloud was gathering, as he waded through a flood
of abuse and slander. But the cloud soon disappeared, and the old,
cheerful calm took its place, as with a merry laugh he flung the
letter on the table. Then he turned to Katharine and said: "What
have they written you, my dear wife? I doubt not they have served
you with the same dainty repast. Shall we follow their advice, take
our staff, and return at once to the bosom of the all-saving church?"
With a sad smile Katharine replied: "How can you jest? My heart is
sorely troubled."
"Not so, dear Kate," Luther comforted her; "I am of good cheer; for
the more furiously the enemies rage and threaten, the more blessed
seems the lot which God has granted me, and all their malice only
serves to show me the more clearly the holiness of marriage."
Here Wolfgang entered, and reported that the messenger was still
waiting for his fee. Luther quickly thrust his hand into his pocket,
and finding it empty, he unlocked a cabinet, and took out two golden
florins.
"Truly, the man must needs have a rich reward, for helping me to such
joy and contentment. Bring him in."
When the man appeared, Luther tapped him on the shoulder and said
kindly: "Dear friend, go home in peace, and tell those who sent you,
that their letters have caused us much pleasure. You, as the bearer,
take these two florins as your reward, together with the blessing of
Dr. Martin and of Mistress Katharine, his wife."
The man, in great embarrassment, was uncertain whether Luther were in
jest or in earnest, and hesitated to accept the rich gift. But
Luther's manner was irresistible, and with his friendly wishes for a
safe journey, the messenger took his departure. Then Luther turned
to Katharine, who was still struggling with her feelings. "See, dear
Kate, the Devil and the world would fain have you leave Dr. Martin.
But the harder they press you, the more firmly I shall hold you; for
here alone is your abiding-place."
Softly weeping, Katharine rested her head upon his breast. But her
tears were no longer tears of sadness.