PEACE.
It was a still, sultry morning in August, 1532. Heavy clouds covered
the sky and tempered somewhat the heat of the sun. Fido, the little
dog, stretched himself lazily upon his bed, and the pigeons on the
house-top hung their wings. In the court-yard of Luther's house,
however, there was bustling activity, as if in preparation for some
festivity. Wolfgang was helping his mistress fill the clear,
home-brewed ale into jugs, when the trumpeter from the tower of the
town-church proclaimed the sixth hour. Katharine left the brewing
house, and hurried to the barnyard, where two maids were wringing the
necks of some fat hens. Then she went to the kitchen, to satisfy
herself that everything was progressing in orderly fashion.
Afterward, accompanied by Wolfgang and a man-servant, she walked
through the still silent streets to an orchard, which Luther owned,
in the neighborhood of the pig-market. Here, overshadowed by dense
willow-bushes, lay a little fish-pond. The two men set to work,
casting their net, and soon Katharine, who in the meantime had
plucked a basket full of ripe pears, saw her tub filled with fish of
various kinds.
"These will please the Doctor," she said, with a satisfied smile.
"He is a great lover of fish, and this dish shall serve as a special
ornament to our feast."
"With your permission," interrupted Daniel, the servant, "I have not
yet been able to learn what is the occasion of this feast."
"Do you not know, Daniel, that we at last have peace in Germany?"
asked Katharine, surprised. On the homeward walk she told him what
had taken place at the diet at Nuremberg: that the protestant princes
had agreed to furnish the Emperor with aid against the Turks, on
condition that he would not further molest them in the exercise of
their religion, but concede to the Gospel its rights, until the
matter should be determined by a general church council.
As they entered the Court, master Peter, the barber, came hurriedly
from the house, greeted Mistress Katharine, and asked if the Doctor
were not at home. He had knocked three times at the study-door,
without receiving an answer.
"No doubt," said Katharine, "he has been at his books all night."
She went to her husband's chamber,--his bed was untouched; then she
hurried to his study, and knocking repeatedly, heard no sound from
within. She anxiously opened the door;--there sat the Doctor,
motionless, bending over a book. Beside him on the table stood a
plate with a piece of dry bread and half a herring.
"Doctor!" exclaimed Katharine, pausing at the door. Luther did not
move. She went to him, took his hand, and bent over him, with a look
of mingled anxiety and reproach.
Luther looked up in surprise.
"Dearest Doctor," said Katharine, "how you have alarmed me. Why do
you do thus?"
Her question aroused him fully. A shadow passed over his face, and
he pointed to the Hebrew Bible before him: "Why do you reproach me,
Kate? think you that what I am doing is evil? Do you not know that I
must work while it is day? For the night cometh, when no man can
work."
He spoke almost harshly, but she knew that he was not angry. She
silently caressed the kind hand, whose labors for the weal of the
human race never ceased. Her eyes fell upon the half-consumed
herring, and with a sad smile she said: "How is it that with such
meagre fare you have so strong and stately a figure? Melanchthon
appears as a lad beside you.--But to-day you must permit your wife to
refresh you with a festive repast, after your labors. Our friends
are coming to rejoice with us over the newly-won peace."
Luther passed his hand over his forehead. "I had well-nigh
forgotten; but I shall enjoy our feast in the company of my friends.
Spalatin too has promised to be present." He rose, and laying his
hand on his wife's shoulder, said gently: "My dear wife, how heartily
you are concerned for me. Wish me joy that God has given me a
helpmate, who so carefully watches over my health, and bears so
patiently with my faults and infirmities. Dr. Martin would far ill,
had he not his Kate, who is better able, than he, to rule his
household."
Katharine was disconcerted by his praise, and to change the subject
said: "Master Peter, the barber, is waiting; may he come in, dear
Doctor?"
Luther nodded, and the barber--a small, lean man, with thoughtful
eyes, and a nimble tongue--was admitted. He greeted the Doctor
respectfully. While he was stirring the soap in the cup, Luther
asked:
"Well, master, what news do you bring me to-day?"
Peter was silent for a moment, then stammered: "Ah, most reverend
Doctor, the newest is this, that master Peter has not yet learned how
to pray. I have long desired to ask you, for, being a great
theologian, you may well instruct a poor Christian in this art."
Luther smiled. "First do your work; afterwards I will tell you."
The barber made haste, impatient for his lesson to begin.
"Sit down, dear master Peter," said Luther, when he had finished.
"You say praying is an art? Yes, verily,--an art, which the Papists
little understand. And yet it is easily learned by every sincere
Christian. See, master Peter, when your soul is disinclined to
prayer, you must rouse it. Take your Psalter, withdraw to a quiet
place, and read until your heart grows warm. You may also take your
Catechism and devoutly consider the five Parts. This is an excellent
means of kindling a flame within the heart. Although I am an old
Doctor of Theology, yet like a child from its mother, I draw daily
nourishment from the article of the Christian Faith and that of the
Lord's Prayer. When you pray, let it be with a whole, undivided
heart. Even a good barber must needs fix his eyes and his thoughts
upon his razor, and not chatter and gaze about him."
Master Peter in many words expressed his gratitude, and rose to
leave; but Luther detained him, saying:
"If you have time, stay, and be present at our morning worship."
He took the Bible and Catechism from the table, and, followed by the
barber, proceeded to the great hall, where the household was already
assembled, and awaiting the master's appearance.
After a pleasant greeting, all took their places at the long, oaken
table. Luther sat at the head; at his right Mistress Katharine with
Aunt Lena and the children; at his left Peter and Jerome Weller, with
Wolfgang and four other young men, who were regarded as members of
the family; opposite them, the sisters Elsa and Lena Kaufman, and at
the lower end the servants.
Luther began with his full, rich voice, all the other voices, deep
and high, joining in, and reverently singing:
"In these our days so perilous,[1]
Lord, peace in mercy send us;
No God but Thee can fight for us,
No God but Thee defend us;
Thou, our only God and Saviour."
After the master of the house had read the 23d Psalm, all rose and
devoutly repeated the Morning Prayer:
"In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. Amen. I give thanks
unto thee, Heavenly Father, through Jesus Christ Thy dear Son, that
Thou hast protected me through the night from all danger and harm;
and I beseech Thee to preserve and keep me, this day also, from all
sin and evil; that in all my thoughts, words, and deeds, I may serve
and please Thee. Into Thy hands I commend my body and soul, and all
that is mine. Let Thy holy angel have charge concerning me, that the
wicked one have no power over me. Amen."[2]
"Now let us hear the catechism," continued Luther. "Wolfgang, will
you begin?"
Wolfgang rose, with folded hands, and recited the first commandment;
his neighbor the second and so on, until it came to Luther's turn,
who like the rest, repeated his portion.
"Dear Hans," Luther asked his six-year-old son, "can you tell me
where I ended my explanation yesterday?"
"At the close of the ten commandments, dear father," was the ready
answer.
"Then give heed," said Luther, "that you may know what is meant by
'the law.' The creature may well fear the law, with its threats and
penalties. It is God's purpose, that the law should cause sinners to
tremble; for it is a taskmaster, holding the scourge in his right
hand. But understand me well,--the law is not a taskmaster for its
own sake, as though it delighted in punishment, but it is evermore
pointing to Christ. What manner of master would he be, who tormented
and chastised his scholars without ceasing, yet taught them nothing?
Of such schoolmasters there have been many,--tyrants, who made their
schools places of torture, beating without reason or measure the poor
children, who studied with great labor and diligence, and yet with
small profit. The law is a master of quite another sort, not only
making its children to fear, but driving to Christ those who fall
under its condemnation. But having driven us to Him, threats no
longer avail. Were Moses to accuse my conscience, I should say: Nay,
Moses, but Christ is here. And on the blessed Judgment Day, Moses
will say to me: Thou hast understood me well. For he that is in
Christ, is delivered from the law, as the Scripture saith: 'Christ is
the end of the law.' Those who are Christ's, are no longer under the
law, but are sanctified." Turning to his wife, he said suddenly:
"Dear Kate, do you believe that you are sanctified?"
Taken aback by his abrupt question, she was unable at once to reply.
After considering for a moment, she said: "How should I believe that
I am sanctified? Am I not a great sinner?"
The Doctor smiled. "See the popish unbelief,--how it has wounded the
hearts of men, and possessed the inner nature so entirely, that it
sees nothing beyond that outward, personal righteousness and
holiness, which we achieve for ourselves. Dear Kate, if you believe
that you are baptized a Christian, you must needs believe that you
are sanctified. Holy baptism has power, so to change our sinfulness,
that although continually present and felt, yet it does not condemn
us."
A faint blush rose to Katharine's cheek, and a mute, eloquent glance
thanked her husband for his comforting words.
Thereafter, following the master's example, all rose while he
pronounced the blessing. The maidservants then brought in the
morning meal, which was eaten in silence; after which all went to
their work.
The Doctor brought from his study the Hebrew Bible and, accompanied
by Peter Weller, repaired to the University, to lecture upon the Book
of Genesis. Jerome took Hans to his own room, where he instructed
the child in reading and writing.
During the forenoon a long table, covered with a fresh linen cloth,
was placed in the court-yard, under the pear-tree; the Doctor had
desired to enjoy this festive occasion under the open sky.
But darker rose the clouds, driven by a strong wind, and soon the
first heavy drops plashed upon the ground. Katharine called her
maids, to remove the table, and complained to her husband, who had
just returned, that the rain was spoiling her pleasure.
"Not so, dear Kate," protested Luther. "God gives us what is worth
many hundred thousand florins. It is now raining wheat, oats, corn,
grass, and the like, for which we should thank the dear Lord, and not
murmur. There is abundant room within the house,--Hark! Is not that
a wagon? It is surely Spalatin. I feared he might not come. The
other guests are already here."
A wagon rolled into the court, and a moment later, in the pouring
rain, Luther held his beloved Spalatin in his arms. The other guests
hurried from the house to greet the new comer--Melanchthon, Jonas,
Bugenhagen, George Rorer, the chaplain of St. Mary's, Kaspar
Cruciger, and Lucas Kranach. The wives of Jonas and Melanchthon had
also been invited. Both were namesakes and warm friends of Mistress
Luther, so that on that day three Katharines sat at table together.
Luther's friends rejoiced to see his cheerful mood, for only lately
his spirit had been oppressed by deep melancholy. He inquired with
much interest after the health of the Elector, who had been ailing
since February, and the favorable report which Spalatin was able to
give, added to the general cheerfulness.
After much pleasant talk, Luther rose from his chair, lifted his
glass, and said: "My dear friends, it has hitherto been the custom
among Christians, to cross themselves at the mention of the Infidel,
and to wish him much evil, as the enemy of God and the spoiler of
Christendom. But to-day it is more fitting that we thank him and
drink to his health."
The men laughed at the jest. The Sultan Suleiman had indeed been the
means of bringing about a peace between the Emperor and the allied
Protestant princes. The danger which threatened the German Empire
from the east, had compelled him to purchase their aid against the
common enemy, by yielding to their demands in the matter of religion.
Luther continued: "Every creature becomes, often unwittingly, an
instrument in the hand of God, for the accomplishing of His holy
Will. Those who plan to do evil, do good instead; and while they
would fain destroy God's kingdom, they help to build it up. May our
faith never grow weary, for the Lord has many ways and means, even
where our short sight can see no remedy. Here the Infidel himself
must needs help the Gospel, in despite of the Pope and the
Emperor.--How mercifully the Lord has sustained his cause!
Everywhere throughout the Empire there are many who follow the truth.
The building is under roof; it now needs to be completed and
preserved. A new generation has arisen. The burden no longer rests
upon me alone; but many stand as pillars of the new life, as leaders
in the warfare between darkness and light."
Spalatin nodded: "Yes, Brother Martin, I too rejoice in the
advancement of the good cause. The Elector returned with renewed
hopefulness from Nuremberg, which has doubtless contributed to the
improvement in his health."
"I have taken a hearty draught in honor of the Turk," said the
chaplain Rorer, "but far greater honor is due to the man, whose
wisdom brought about the peace between the Emperor and the Union of
Smalcald;--the man who so clearly distinguishes between what is God's
and what is Cæsar's; better than Zwingli, whose mingling of spiritual
with temporal things has caused his destruction."
Luther, towards whom, at these words, all eyes were turned, lifted
his hand, and said earnestly: "Dear Rorer, you know that such praise
pleases me little. What I am, I am by the grace of God,--to Him
alone the honor is due."
Spalatin, in the meantime, was whispering into Katharine's ear: "His
grace, the Elector, sends your husband through me a gift of a hundred
gold florins. Small as it is, in comparison with the consolation he
received from Dr. Luther during his recent illness, yet his heart
urged him to show his gratitude, as far as he is able. I will not
offer it to the Doctor, knowing that he will refuse the gift, which I
pray you, dear Mistress Luther, to accept; for I know that you have
need of it, and the Elector will be much pleased."
Katharine whispered her thanks and said: "It is impossible to change
the Doctor's mind in these matters. Only the day before yesterday, a
young man who had finished his studies, and lacked the money for his
homeward journey, came to us for help. My husband reached into his
pocket, and finding it empty, he took a silver cup from the shelf and
offered it to his student, who refused to accept it. I made signs to
the Doctor with my eyes; but as though he neither saw nor heard, he
crushed the cup in his strong hand, and forced it upon the young man,
saying: "I have no need of silver cups. Take it to the silversmith,
and whatever he gives you, is yours."
Spalatin's eyes glistened, as he glanced toward Dr. Martin, and with
admiring veneration, he said softly: "That is Luther!"
Presently, Katharine rose, and brought in the fish. When in passing
it around, she came to her husband, he tapped her on the shoulder.
"Kate, I think you have more pleasure from your small fish-pond, than
many a nobleman from his large ones, whence he can draw hundreds of
fish. Ah, many an one lives in plenty, and yet cannot enjoy God's
gifts with profit and pleasure."
Melanchthon, as was his habit, had sat in silent meditation.
Suddenly he looked up, and turning to Luther, said: "I marvel, what
our enemies would say if they saw us sitting thus pleasantly
together?"
"Let them say what they will," interrupted Luther. "If we fast, they
cry: Pharisees and hypocrites. If we eat, they say: Gluttons and
wine-bibbers! Thus it was when our Saviour lived upon the earth.
But what says our Lord in Heaven, when we enjoy His gifts? Truly, He
has made them all for our use, and asks nothing further, than that we
acknowledge them as His gifts, and receive them with thanksgiving."
The conversation continued for an hour longer; then Luther and his
friends rose and gave thanks after meat.
The air having grown cool and fresh after the rain, the men repaired
to the court, to enjoy a game of bowls, while the women sat down
together under the pear-tree.
The friendship of these three women was not less intimate than that
of their husbands; especially were Katharine and the wife of Justus
Jonas congenial, sharing joy and sorrow with one another. Often,
when Luther's forebodings pointed to an early death, and his
imagination pictured to him his widowed wife, he referred her to
Mistress Katharine Jonas for support and consolation. The mothers'
friendship had descended to the children, who were, fond of playing
and studying together.
Suddenly Luther's voice was heard, welcoming a new guest, and looking
up, they saw John Walter, the choir-master from Torgau, whom Luther
held in high esteem. There were joyous greetings from all, except
Wolfgang, who was ill pleased at the interruption, and grumbled to
himself: "Why must he come upon us just at this moment? Now the game
is at an end, and so forth, and the miserable singing and howling
will begin." The worthy Wolfgang, who had doubtless taken his
lessons in singing from the jackdaws and magpies, considered a game
of bowls superior to the finest music.
His fears were speedily realized. All gathered around the
choir-master, and under his direction song after song was
sung,--first folk-songs, of which Luther was very fond, then hymns
and chorales, such as at Luther's request and with his assistance
Walter had published for the Protestant worship. Higher and higher
rose their spirits upon the wings of song, until the enthusiasm
reached its climax, as Walter intoned that glorious song of battle
and triumph: "A mighty Fortress is our God." The sounds re-echoed
from the convent walls, and the evening wind bore the triumphal
strains forth into the streets of the town. Wondrous was the power
of this heroic song, which, with its majestic waves of sound, seized
upon every heart. Even Wolfgang yielded, and added his croaking
voice to the chorus.
The twilight slowly gathered, and after Katharine had offered her
guests a light refreshment, all, except Spalatin and Walter, returned
to their homes.
[1] Translated by R. Massie.
[2] Church Book, Catechism, p. 55.