RISEN FROM THE DEAD.
The earth was already thickly covered with snow, yet the heavy, white
flakes were still falling. The frost-flowers upon the windows hid
the outside world from those within, and the footsteps in the streets
sounded as though the ground were strewn with broken glass. Whoever
could, stayed within doors.
Katharine was packing her husband's travelling trunk. He was about
to undertake a journey. But it was not the thought of the distance,
and of her own loneliness, that filled her eyes with tears, and her
heart with anxious forebodings. He was ill, and she dreaded the
effects of this wintry journey upon his enfeebled body. She would
have pleaded with him to remain at home, had not the Elector so
urgently desired his presence at Smalcald, where, before the
assembled Protestant princes and representatives, he was desired to
read the articles he had prepared for submission to the General
Church Council, to be held at Mantua.
It was on the first day of February, 1537, when Luther, wrapped in
warm furs, and seated in the carriage sent him by the Elector John
Frederick, passed out of the Elster gate. Not only Katharine, but
many a citizen of Wittenberg looked anxiously after the traveller,
secretly reproaching the Elector for asking of the sick man a
sacrifice, which might plunge the whole Protestant world into sorrow
and confusion.
The days crept slowly by to Katharine. Many letters came to the
house of the spiritual leader of Protestantism; yet there was none in
the well-known, rugged handwriting, although Luther had promised to
send her tidings as soon as possible, especially if any harm should
befall him. Week after week glided by; her fears were slowly
stilled, and she began to thank God for this new grace.
On the 2d of March, a messenger rode into the court, bringing a
letter from the Doctor. Fear seized upon Katharine, and her
trembling fingers were scarcely able to open the packet. Yes, there
it was written, in terribly plain characters, that her forebodings
had not deceived her. The letter was dated from Gotha, the 2 7th of
February, and ran as follows:
"Grace and peace in Christ! You will have to hire other horses, if
you need them, dear Kate, for His Grace will keep yours, until he can
return them to you by Master Philip. I myself, leaving Smalcald
yesterday, came hither in the Elector's coach. The reason is
this,--I have been ill; rest and sleep forsook me, and food and drink
sickened me. I was as one dead, and had commended you and the little
ones to my dear Lord, thinking I should never see you again. I was
sorely grieved for you,--yet I was prepared for the end. But so many
prayers were made in my behalf, that they have prevailed, and I feel
as one newly born. Therefore give thanks to God, and tell Aunt Lena
and the children, to thank the Father in Heaven, for without His
mercy they had surely lost their earthly father. The good prince
endeavored by all means to procure me relief, but in vain. Neither
did your remedy against indigestion do me any good. It is God alone
who has done, and still does wonders for me, through, the
intercession of godly persons.
"This I write you, thinking that His Grace may have given orders to
have you brought to meet me, that, in case I died upon the way, you
might once more see me and speak with me. But there is no longer any
need of it, and you can remain at home, God having helped me so
abundantly that I hope soon to return to you in good health.
"To-day we are at Gotha. I have written you four times, and am
surprised that nothing has reached you.
"MARTIN LUTHER."
"_Tuesday after Reminiscere, 1537_."
With tear-dimmed eyes Katharine read the letter, and then broke out
in passionate lamentations, that she should be so far away from her
beloved husband, when he most needed her care. She pictured to
herself his sufferings, which her imagination painted in colors more
somber than the reality. Full of her sorrow, she forgot to thank God
for what He had done, until Aunt Lena reminded her of her duty.
"He wrote me four letters, and I received none of them," she
complained. "Oh, how he must have longed for his wife and children.
Yet none but strange faces were around him, and strange hands
ministered to him. No doubt, they were kind and faithful, but his
friends are not the same as his wife!"
She felt like a captive, and would fain have taken to herself wings,
and hastened to him, whom her soul loved. Aunt Lena's arguments were
without effect; and indeed, her uneasiness was but the instinct of an
anxious heart. Through the magic tie of love, the souls of husband
and wife were so linked together, that each in a measure felt the
other's pain. Katharine's torturing anxiety, nowithstanding the
reassuring tone of the letter, was but the premonition of further
trouble. A relapse again brought her husband to the brink of the
grave. It seemed to her as though he were stretching out his hands,
and crying: "Come hither, and help me!"
She was not deceived. At Gotha Luther again lay sick unto death.
Beside him stood Bugenhagen, and administered the Body of our Lord.
Gathering up the last remnants of strength, the sick man said to his
friends:
"I know, thank God, that I did right in storming the papacy with the
Word of God; for it is a slanderer of God, of Christ and the Gospel.
Pray my dear Philip, Jonas, Cruciger and others, to forgive me,
wherein I may have wronged them. Comfort my Kate, and tell her to
accept this sorrow with patience, forasmuch as she has had twelve
years of happiness with me. She has served me faithfully,--may God
reward her! You will care for her and the children, as far as you
are able. My gracious prince, the Elector, said to me at Smalcald:
'Have no fear for your wife,--she shall be to me as my wife, and your
children as my children.' And I trust in his promise, for he is a
truthful man. Greet the deacons of our church, tell them to labor in
God's name for the Gospel, as the Holy Spirit prompts them. I will
not prescribe to them the manner and measure of their labors. May
the merciful God strengthen them and all others, that they abide by
the pure doctrine, and thank Him for their deliverance from the
Antichrist. I have earnestly commended them to the Lord,--He will
preserve them. I am now ready to die, if it is His Will. I commit
my soul into the hands of the Father and of my Lord Jesus Christ,
whom I preached and confessed here upon earth!"
Thus he spoke, waiting for death, and his voice, feeble as it was,
yet reached to Wittenberg and was felt by the keen sense of love.
Katharine's uneasiness became unbearable, her fears urging her to go
to him,--perhaps she might be able to save his life.
She hired a carriage and hurried to Altenberg, praying and pleading
without ceasing. Spalatin met her with the glad news: "The Doctor is
coming,--he has announced his arrival." And he read to her the
verses which he had received the day before:
"See Christ the Lord, my Spalatin,
In him who seeks a sheltering inn.
'Tis Luther, ill, would rest with thee,
'Till he to health restored may be.
Do so to Luther!--God regard thee--
As unto Him, God will reward thee.
Read in His word,--'tis written there:
'All of Christ's Body members are.'"
"Be comforted, dear Mistress Luther," continued Spalatin; "it fares
better with him, for Melanchthon has added a few verses, written in a
merry vein."
Katharine's suspense was soon relieved; her husband arrived on the
following day. Although the disorder was not wholly cured, yet under
her gentle care he soon regained his strength. She endeavored, with
redoubled attention, to make up for what she had been unable to do
before, and felt rejoiced when with a silent pressure of the hand, or
a grateful look, the Doctor spoke his thanks.
When on Maundy Thursday the bells called the citizens of Wittenberg
to the town-church, they once more beheld in the pulpit the
well-beloved, familiar face, and again received from his inspired
lips the words of life.