of Confession because it requires the admission of all mortal sins, and
calls it “a great and everlasting martyrdom,” “trumped up as a good
work whereby God may be placated.” He calumniates the Catholic past by
declaring it did nothing but “count up sins” and that “the insufferable
burden, and the impossibility of obeying the Papal law caused such
fear and distress to timorous souls that they were driven to despair.”
And, in order that the most odious charge may not be wanting, he
concludes: “This brought in money and goods, so that it became an idol
throughout the whole world, but it was no doctrine, examination or
exercise leading to the confession and acknowledgment of Christ.”[859]
The fables which he bolstered up on certain abuses, of which even the
Papal penitentiary was guilty, were only too readily believed by the
masses.[860]
_Church Music._
In order to enliven the church services Luther greatly favoured
congregational singing. Of his important and successful labours in this
direction we shall merely say here, that he himself composed canticles
instinct with melody and force, which were either set to music by
others or sung to olden Catholic tunes, and became hugely popular
among Protestants, chiefly because their wording expresses so well the
feelings of the assembled congregation. One of Luther’s Hymnbooks, with
twenty-four hymns composed by himself, appeared in 1524.[861]
Music, particularly religious music, he loved and cherished, yielding
himself entirely to the enjoyment of its inspiring and ennobling
influence. As a schoolboy he had earned his bread by singing; at the
University he delighted his comrades by his playing on the lute; later
he never willingly relinquished music, and took care that the hours of
recreation should be gladdened by the singing of various motets.[862]
Music, he said, dispelled sad thoughts and was a marvellous cure for
melancholy. In his Table-Talk he describes the moral influence of music
in language truly striking.[863] “My heart overflows and expands to
music; it has so often refreshed and delivered me amidst the worst
troubles,” thus to the musician Senfl at Munich when asking him to
compose a motet.[864] He supplied an Introduction in the shape of a
poem entitled “Dame Music” to Johann Walther’s “The Praise and Prize
of the lovely art of Music” (1538). It commences:[865] There can be no
ill-will here--Where all sing with voices clear--Hate or envy, wrath or
rage,--When sweet strains our minds engage. Being himself conversant
with musical composition, he took pleasure in Walther’s description
of counterpoint and in his ingenious comparison of the sequence of
melodies to a troop of boys at play.
Grauert admirably groups together “Luther’s poetic talent, the gift of
language, which enabled him so to master German, his work for German
hymnology, his enthusiastic love of music, of which he well knew the
importance as a moral factor, and his familiarity with the higher
forms of polyphonic composition.” He also remarks quite rightly that
these favourable traits had been admitted unreservedly by Johannes
Janssen.[866]
2. Emotional Character and Intellectual Gifts
The traits mentioned above could hardly be duly appreciated unless we
also took into account certain natural qualities in Luther from which
his depth of feeling sprang.
A Catholic has recently called him an “emotional man,” and, so far
as thereby his great gifts of intellect and will are not called into
question, the description may be allowed to stand.[867] Especially
is this apparent in his peculiar humour, which cannot fail to charm
by its freshness and spontaneity all who know his writings and his
Table-Talk, even though his witticisms quite clearly often served to
screen his bitter vexation, or to help him to react against depression,
and were frequently disfigured by obscenity and malice.[868] It is a
more grateful task to observe the deep feeling expressed in his popular
treatment of religious topics. Johannes Janssen declares that he finds
in him “more than once a depth of religious grasp which reminds one
of the days of German mysticism,”[869] while George Evers, in a work
otherwise hostile to Luther, admits: “We must acknowledge that a truly
Christian credulity peeps out everywhere, and, particularly in the
Table-Talk, is so simple and childlike as to appeal to every heart.”
Evers even adds: “His religious life as pictured there gives the
impression of a man of prayer.”[870]
The circumstantial and reliable account given by Johann Cochlæus of
an interview which he had with Luther at Worms in 1521 gives us a
certain glimpse into the latter’s feelings at that critical juncture.
After holding a lengthy disputation together, the pair withdrew into
another room where Cochlæus implored his opponent to admit his errors
and to make an end of the scandal he was giving to souls. Both were so
much moved that the tears came to their eyes. “I call God to witness,”
writes Cochlæus, “that I spoke to him faithfully and with absolute
conviction.” He pointed out to him as a friend how willing the Pope and
all his opponents were to forgive him; he was perfectly ready to admit
and condemn the abuses in connection with the indulgences against which
Luther had protested; his religious apostasy and the revolt of the
peasants whom he was leading astray were, however, a different matter.
The matter was frankly discussed between the two, partly in German,
partly in Latin. Luther finally mastered the storm obviously raging
within and brought the conversation to an end by stating that it did
not rest with him to undo what had been done, and that greater and more
learned men than he were behind it. On bidding him farewell, Cochlæus
assured him with honest regret that he would continue the literary
feud; Luther, for his part, promised to answer him vigorously.[871]
Luther’s mental endowments were great and unique.
Nature had bestowed on him such mental gifts as must astonish all, the
more they study his personality. His extraordinary success was due in
great part to these rare qualities, which were certainly calculated
to make of him a man truly illustrious had he not abused them. His
lively reason, quick grasp and ready tongue, his mind, so well stocked
with ideas, and, particularly, the inexhaustible fertility of his
imagination, allowing him to express himself with such ease and
originality, enchanted all who came into contact with him.
Pollich of Mellerstadt, one of the most highly respected Professors
of the Wittenberg University, said of Luther, when as yet the latter
was scarcely known: “Keep an eye on that young monk, Master Martin
Luther, he has a reason so fine and keen as I have not come across
in all my life; he will certainly become a man of eminence.”[872]
Jonas, his friend, assures us that others too, amongst them Lang and
Staupitz, admitted they had never known a man of such extraordinary
talent.[873] Urban Rhegius, who visited him in 1534, in the report he
gives shows himself quite overpowered by Luther’s mind and talent: “He
is a theologian such as we rarely meet. I have always thought much
of Luther, but now I think of him more highly than ever. For now I
have seen and heard what cannot be explained in writing to anyone not
present.... I will tell you how I feel. It is true we all of us write
occasionally and expound the Scriptures, but, compared with Luther, we
are children and mere schoolboys.”[874]
His friends generally stood in a certain awe of his greatness,
though, in their case, we can account otherwise for their admiration.
Later writers too, even amongst the Catholics, felt in the imposing
language of his writings the working of a powerful mind, much as
they regretted his abuse of his gifts. “His mind was both sharp and
active,” such was the opinion of Sforza Pallavicini, the Jesuit
author of a famous history of the Council of Trent; “he was made for
learned studies and pursued them without fatigue to either mind or
body. His learning seemed his greatest possession, and this he was
wont to display in his discourse. In him felicity of expression was
united with a stormy energy. Thereby he won the applause of those
who trust more to appearance than to reality. His talents filled
him with a self-reliance which the respect shown him by the masses
only intensified.”[875] “Luther’s mind was a fertile one,” he writes
elsewhere, “but its fruits were more often sour than ripe, more often
abortions of a giant than viable offspring.”[876] His alert and
too-prolific fancy even endangered his other gifts by putting in the
shade his real intellectual endowments. “His imagination,” Albert
Weiss truly says, “was, next to his will, the most strongly developed
of his inner faculties, and as powerful as it was clear. Herein
chiefly lies the secret of his power of language.”[877]
To his temperamental and intellectual qualities, which undoubtedly
stamped his works with the impress of a “giant,” we must add his
obstinate strength of will and his extraordinary tenacity of purpose.
Were it possible to separate his will from his aims and means, and
to appreciate it apart, then one could scarcely rate it high enough.
Thousands, even of the bravest, would have quailed before the
difficulties he had to face both without and within his camp. The
secret of his success lay simply in his ability to rise superior to
every difficulty, thanks to his defiance and power of will. Humanly
it is hard to understand how all attacks and defeats only served to
embolden him. Protestants have spoken of the “demoniacal greatness”
manifest in Luther, have called him a man of “huge proportions and
power” in whose “breast two worlds wrestled,” and, on account of his
“heroic character,” have even claimed that history should overlook “the
vices proper to heroes.”[878]
Among Catholic writers the earlier Döllinger, for all his aversion for
Luther’s purpose and the weapons he employed, nevertheless says of
him: “If such a one is justly to be styled a great man, who, thanks
to his mighty gifts and powers, accomplishes great things and brings
millions of minds under his sway--then the son of the peasant of Möhra
must be reckoned among the great, yea, among the greatest of men.”[879]
Upon the disputed definition of “greatness” we cannot enter here. (See
vol. vi., xl., 1.) Yet, in view of the intellectual gifts lavished on
Luther, Döllinger’s words are undoubtedly not far away from the mark,
particularly when we consider his gigantic capacity for work and the
amazing extent of his literary labours, distracted though he was by
other cares.
We have already had occasion to give the long list of the works he
penned in 1529 and 1530,[880] and we may add some further examples. In
1521, in which year he lost over five weeks in travelling, not to speak
of the correspondence and other business which claimed his attention
in that exciting period of his life, he still found time to write more
than twenty works of varying length which in the Weimar edition cover
985 large octavo pages; he also translated a book by Melanchthon into
German, commenced his translation of the Bible and his church Postils.
In 1523 he produced no less than twenty-four books and pamphlets, and,
besides this, his lectures on Deuteronomy (247 pages in the Weimar
edition) and a German translation of the whole Pentateuch. He also
preached about 150 sermons, planned other works and wrote the usual
flood of letters, of which only a few, viz. 112, have been preserved,
amongst them being some practically treatises in themselves and which
duly appeared in print. Even in 1545, when already quite broken down
in health and when two months were spent in travelling, he managed
with a last effort, inspired by his deadly hate, to compose even so
considerable a book as his “Wider das Bapstum zu Rom vom Teuffel
gestifft,” as well as other smaller writings and the usual number of
private letters, circulars, and memoranda.[881] At the very end he told
his friend, the preacher Jacob Probst, that he meant to work without
intermission though old and weary, with a failing eyesight and a body
racked with pain.
These labours, of which the simple enumeration of his books gives
us an inkling, even the most fertile mind could have performed only
by utilising every moment of his time and by renouncing all the
allurements to distraction and repose. The early hours of the morning
found Luther regularly in his study, and, in the evening, after his
conversation with his friends, he was wont to betake himself early
to bed so as to be able to enjoy that good sleep, without which, he
declared, he could not meet the demands made upon him.
That, however, behind all his fiery zeal for work, certain moral
influences not of the highest also had a share is obvious from what has
been said previously.
3. Intercourse with Friends. The Interior of the former Augustinian
Monastery
Hitherto we have been considering the favourable traits in Luther’s
character as a public man; turning to his quieter life at Wittenberg,
we shall find no lack of similar evidences.[882] We must begin by
asking impartially whether the notorious Table-Talk does not reveal a
better side of his character.
The question must be answered in the affirmative by every unprejudiced
reader of those notes. Luther’s gifts of mind and temperament, his
versatility, liveliness of imagination, easy use of Scripture and
insight even into worldly matters; further his rare talent of simple
narration, and not seldom the very subjects he chooses give a real
worth to Luther’s Table-Talk, notwithstanding all that may be urged
against it. It is accordingly the historian’s duty faithfully to
portray its better side.
_The more favourable side of the Table-Talk._
Any comprehensive judgment on the Table-Talk as a whole is out of the
question; with its changing forms and colours and its treatment of the
subjects it is altogether too kaleidoscopic. Again, in conjunction
with what is good and attractive, frivolous, nay, even offensive and
objectionable subjects are dealt with, for which the reader is in no
wise prepared.[883]
It is necessary to emphasise the fact--which may be new to some--that
to regard the Table-Talk as a hotch-potch of foul sayings is to do it
an injustice. Catholics, as a matter of course, are used to finding
in anti-Lutheran polemics plentiful quotations from it not at all to
Luther’s credit; of its better contents, a knowledge of which is of
even greater importance in forming an opinion of his character, no hint
is contained in this sort of literature. Some are even ignorant that
Protestant writers have more than compensated for this undue stress on
the unfavourable side of the Table-Talk by the attractive selection
they give from its finer parts.
In point of fact the subject of Luther’s conversations is, not
infrequently, the attributes of God; for instance, His mercy and love;
the duties of the faithful towards God and their moral obligations
in whatever state of life they be placed; hints to the clergy on the
best way to preach or to instruct the young; not to speak of other
observations regarding neighbourly charity, the vices of the age and
the virtues or faults of great personages of that day, or of the past.
Luther was fond of discoursing on subjects which, in his opinion, would
prove profitable to those present, though often his object was merely
to enliven and amuse the company.
The tone and the choice of his more serious discourses frequently show
us that he was not unmindful of the fact, that his words would be
heard by others beyond the narrow circle of his private guests; he was
aware that what he said was noted down, and not unfrequently requested
the reporters to commit this or that to writing, knowing very well
that such notes would circulate.[884] At times, however, he seemed to
become forgetful of this, and allowed observations to escape him which
caused many of his oldest admirers to regret the publication of the
Table-Talk. A large number of statements made by him on the spur of the
moment must, moreover, not be taken too seriously, for they are either
in contradiction with other utterances or are practically explained
away elsewhere.
Thus, for instance, in a conversation in the winter of 1542-1543,
occur the following words which really do him honour: “God has
preserved the Church by means of the schools; they it is that keep
the Church standing. Schools are not very imposing as to their
exterior, yet they are of the greatest use. It was to the schools
that the little boys owed their knowledge of the Paternoster and the
Creed, and the Church has been wonderfully preserved by means of the
small schools.”[885]--Yet, at an earlier date, he had said just the
contrary, viz. that before his day the young had been allowed to drift
to wreck and ruin, owing to entire lack of instruction.
On certain religious subjects he could speak with deep feeling.[886]
Compare, for instance, what he says of Christ’s intercourse with His
disciples.
“In what a friendly way,” Luther remarks, “did He behave towards His
disciples! How charming were all His dealings with them! I quite
believe what is related of Peter, viz. that, after Christ’s Ascension,
he was always weeping and wiping his eyes with a handkerchief till
they grew quite red; when asked the cause of his grief, he replied,
he could not help shedding tears when he remembered the friendly
intercourse they had had with Christ the Lord. Christ indeed treats
us just as He did His disciples, if only we would but believe it; but
our eyes are not open to the fact. It was a real wonder how they [the
Apostles] were so altered in mind at Pentecost. Ah, the disciples must
have been fine fellows to have been witnesses of such things and to
have had such fellowship with Christ the Lord!”[887]
Immediately after this, however, we hear him inveighing against the
Pope with statements incredibly false,[888] whilst, just before, in
another conversation, he had introduced his favourite error concerning
Justification by Faith.[889]
It may suffice to keep to the dozen pages or so[890] from which the
above kindlier samples were extracted, to become acquainted with the
wealth of good interspersed amongst so much that is worthless, and
at the same time to appreciate how lively his mind and his powers of
observation still remained even when increasing years and persistent
bad health were becoming a burden to him.
As to the way in which his then sayings were handed down, we may
state, that, in the winter of 1542-1543, Caspar Heydenreich, who had
already officiated as pastor of Joachimstal, was present at Luther’s
table and wrote down these and other remarks as they dropped from
the speaker’s lips; they were afterwards incorporated in Mathesius’
collection. In the original they are partly in Latin, partly in
German, and betray not the slightest attempt at polish. The reason
that we thus find Latin passages in reports of German conversations is
that the reporter, in order to take down more rapidly what he heard,
at times made use of shorthand, then only employed for Latin. Others
who reported the Table-Talk had recourse to the same device. The
consequence is, that, in the recent German editions of the Table-Talk,
we find in one and the same conversation some sentences in the Old
German Luther actually used, and others in present-day German, the
latter being merely translations from the Latin.
After discoursing at length on the fact that schools ought to be
carefully cherished for the sake of the coming generation of Church
teachers, he says: “The work of the schools is not brilliant in the
eyes of the world, but it is of the greatest utility.” (No. 609; then
follows the praise of the old schools already recorded.)--“Wealth is
the most insignificant thing in the world, the meanest gift in God’s
power to bestow on man. What is it compared with the Word of God?
Indeed, what is it compared with bodily endowments, or with beauty,
or with the gifts of the soul? and yet people fret so much for it.
Material, formal, efficient and final causes here fare badly. For this
reason the Almighty usually gives riches to rude donkeys upon whom He
bestows nothing else” (611).
Luther relates incidentally that his father Hans, who died at Mansfeld
in 1530, when asked on his death-bed whether he believed in the
Apostles’ Creed, replied: “He would indeed be a scoundrel who refused
to believe that.” “That,” aptly remarked Luther, “is a voice from the
old world”; whereupon Melanchthon chimed in: “Happy those who die in
the knowledge of Christ as did your [daughter] Magdalene [† Sep. 20,
1542]; the older we grow the more foolish we become.... When we grow
up we begin to dispute and want to be wise, and yet we are the biggest
fools” (615).
According to Luther, God’s most grievous wrath then rested on the
Jews. They are blinded, pray fanatically and yet are not heard. “Oh,
dear God, rather than remain silent do Thou punish us with pestilence,
the French disease and whatever other dreadful maladies the soldiers
curse. God says: I have stretched out My hands; come, give ear, draw
nigh to Me! [The Jews reply]: We won’t. [God says]: You have Isaias;
hear him. [They scream]: Yah, we will kill him! [God says]: Here is
My Son! [They reply]: Out on Him! Hence Our Lord God now treats them
as we see. That is how abandoned children fare, who refuse to obey
their parents and are therefore deserted by them. No one has ever
written concerning this wrath of God, nor is anyone able to do so; no
eloquence can plumb the depths of this wrath. O Heavenly Father--[this
he said with clasped hands]--allow us to enjoy the sunshine and
permit us not to fall away from the Word! Just fancy, for fifteen
hundred years the Jews have groaned under His Wrath! And what will
be the end of it all? Alas, there will be a dreadful scene in hell!”
(608).
Against the Jews he was very bitter. It was related at table,
that, in spite of the two books Luther had recently published, the
Hebrews stood in favour with the Counts of Mansfeld, and, from
their synagogue, had even dared to hurl at an Eisleben preacher the
opprobrious epithet of Goim. Luther replied that if he were pastor and
Court Chaplain there like Cœlius, or even a simple preacher, he would
at once resign his post. When it was remarked that the Jews knew how
to curry favour with the great, his comment was: “The devil can do
much.” On being asked whether it would be right to box the ears of a
Jew who uttered a blasphemy, he replied, “Certainly; I for one would
smack him on the jaw. Were I able, I would knock him down and stab
him in my anger. If it is lawful, according to both the human and the
Divine law, to kill a robber, then it is surely even more permissible
to slay a blasphemer.” To the observation of one of his guests that
the Jews boasted, that, of the two, the Christians were the worse
usurers, Luther said: “That is quite true. At Leipzigk there are
greater usurers than the Jews. But a distinction must be drawn.” Among
the Jews usury is made the rule, whereas amongst the Christians it is
repressed. “We preach against it and are heartily opposed to it; with
them this is not the case” (628).
In a similar strain, in the dozen pages under consideration, he
touches on many other instructive subjects, whether connected with
questions of the day, or with religion, or the Bible. He portrays with
a clear hand the dominant idea of the Book of Job, in comparison with
which all the dramatic force of the Greek plays was as nothing (616);
he expounds the narratives of Christ’s Prayer in the Garden of Olives,
where He suffered indescribable pains for our sins (626); in answer to
a query he speaks of the anointing of Our Lord’s feet by Magdalene,
and observes, referring to the censure drawn from Judas by his
avarice: “That is the way of the world and the devil; what should be
blamed is praised, and what should be praised is blamed” (627). What
he says of the vast number of the slain, alluded to so frequently in
the Old Testament, was probably also called forth by some questioner
(612). Amidst this recur new invectives against the Jews and their
magic; never ought we to eat or drink with them (619); also against
the Turks and their bigotry and unbelief; the latter resembled the
fanatics in that, like them, they refused to doubt their revelations;
this he proved by certain instances (620). He speaks of the strong
faith of simple Christians with feeling and not without envy (614). He
extols the power of prayer for others, and proves it not merely from
Biblical texts and examples, but also from his own experience; “we,
too, prayed Philip back to life. Verily prayer can do much.... God
does not reward it with a certain, fixed measure, but with a measure
pressed and running over, as He says.... A powerful thing is prayer,
if only I could believe it, for God has bound and pledged Himself by
it” (617).
Dealing with astrology, he demonstrates its folly by a lengthy and
very striking argument; when it was objected that the reformation he
was carrying out had also been predicted by the stars at the time of
his birth, he replied: “Oh no, that is another matter! That is purely
the work of God. You will never persuade me otherwise!” (625).
As to practical questions, he speaks of the doings of the Electoral
marriage courts in certain cases (621); of severity in the up-bringing
of children (624); of the choice of godparents for Baptism (620); of
the authority of guardians in the marriage of their wards (613); and
of what was required of those who dispensed the Supper (618).
On one occasion, when the conversion of the Jews at the end of the
world was being discussed, the “Doctoress” (Catherine) intervened in
the conversation with a Biblical quotation, but her contribution (John
x. 16) was rejected in a friendly way by Luther as mistaken.
In these pages of the Table-Talk unseemly speeches or expressions
such as call for censure elsewhere do not occur, though the Pope and
the Papacy are repeatedly made the butt of misrepresentation and
abuse (610, 616, 619); as was only to be expected, we find here again
Luther’s favourite assertion that the Roman doctrine of works is a
gross error very harmful to souls (623); in support of his opinion
Luther gives a long string of Bible texts.
Apart from the abuse just referred to and some other details these
few leaves, taken at haphazard from the Table-Talk, are certainly not
discreditable to Luther. Beside these might moreover be placed, as we
have already admitted elsewhere, many other pages the contents of which
are equally unexceptionable.
It is naturally not the task or duty of Catholic controversialists to
fill their works with statements from the Table-Talk such as the above;
they would nevertheless do well always to bear in mind that many such
favourable utterances occur in Luther’s works with which moreover the
Protestants are as a rule perfectly familiar. The latter, indeed, who
often are acquainted only with these better excerpts from Luther’s
books, sermons, letters or Table-Talk, are not unnaturally disposed
to view with suspicion those writers who bestow undue prominence on
unfavourable portions of his works, torn from their context.
Unless Catholic polemics contrive to look at things from their
opponents’ point of view, their success must always be limited; short
of this they run the risk of being accused of being ignorant of
what tells in Luther’s favour, or of not giving it due weight. All
controversy should in reality be conducted in a friendly spirit, and,
in the discussion of Luther, such a spirit joined with a broad-minded
appreciation of what is good in the opposite party cannot fail to
be productive of happy results. How far Protestants have acted in
this spirit is, alas, plain to all who have had dealings with them.
There can be no question but that certain excesses perpetrated on the
opposite side go far to explain, if not to excuse, the methods adopted
by some of the champions of Catholicism.
_Kindlier Traits Evinced by Luther._
The great veneration felt for Luther by most of his pupils,
particularly by those who were intimate with him, enables us to see the
impression his talents made on others. It is, of course, probable that
their mental submission to him was in part due to the feeling, that
it was an exceptional honour to be accounted friends of a man famous
throughout the world and so distinguished by his extraordinary success;
yet it is equally certain that it was his own peculiar charm which
caused not merely young students, such as those who noted down the
Table-Talk, but even mature and experienced men, to look up to him with
respect and affection and voluntarily to subject themselves to his mind
and his will. The fact is, in Luther a powerful and domineering talent
existed side by side with great familiarity in consorting with others
and a natural gift of making himself loved. The unshakable confidence
in God on which he and his followers seemed to lean in every reverse
they met, perhaps impressed people more than anything else.
“His earnestness,” wrote a devoted young follower of his, “is so
tempered with gladness and friendliness that one longs to live with
him; it seems as though God wished to demonstrate how blissful and
joyous his Evangel is, not merely by his teaching, but even by
his conduct.” Thus the Swiss student, Johann Kessler, who became
acquainted with Luther after his return from the Wartburg.[891]
Another voice from the same period enthusiastically extols his
friendly ways and his winning speech in his dealings with his pupils,
also the power of his words “which cast such a spell over the hearts
of his hearers that anyone, who is not made of stone, having once
heard him, yearns to hear him again.” Thus his disciple Albert
Burrer.[892]
Mathesius, one of his busier pupils, declares: “The man was full
of grace and the Holy Ghost. Hence all who sought counsel from
him as a prophet of God, found what they desired.”[893] Often, he
remarks, difficult questions from Scripture were submitted to him (in
conversation at table) which he answered both plainly and concisely.
And if anyone contradicted him he took no offence but skilfully put
his gainsayer in the wrong. The Doctor knew so well how to bring in
his stories and sayings and apply them at the proper juncture that it
was a real pleasure and comfort to listen to him.[894] “Amongst his
other great virtues he was very easily contented, and also extremely
kind.”[895]
Spangenberg, Aurifaber, Cordatus and other pupils were, so to speak,
quite under his spell. Hieronymus Weller, whom Luther frequently
sought to encourage in his fits of depression, remarked indeed on one
occasion that the difference in age, and his reverence for Luther,
prevented him from speaking and chatting as confidentially as he would
have liked with the great man.[896] On the other hand, the Humanist,
Peter Mosellanus, who was at one time much attached to him and never
altogether abandoned his cause, says: “In daily life and in his
intercourse with others he is polite and friendly; there is nothing
stoical or proud about him; he is affable to everyone. In company he
converses cheerfully and pleasantly, is lively and gay, always looks
merry, cheerful and amiable however hard pressed by his opponents,
so that one may well believe he does not act in such weighty matters
without God’s assistance.”[897]
Melanchthon, particularly in his early days, as our readers already
know, expressed great reverence and devotion for Luther. “You know,”
he wrote to Spalatin during his friend’s stay at the Wartburg, “how
carefully we must guard this earthen vessel which contains so great a
treasure.... The earth holds nothing more divine than him.”[898] After
Luther’s death, in spite of the previous misunderstandings, he said of
him in a panegyric addressed to the students: “Alas, the chariot of
Israel and the horseman thereof, who ruled the Church in these latter
years of her existence, has departed.”[899]
Luther was often to prove that the strong impression made by his
personality was alone able to gain the day in cases of difficulty,
to break down opposition and to ensure the successful carrying out of
hardy plans. Seldom indeed did those about him offer any objection,
for he possessed that gift, so frequently observed in men of strong
character, of exercising, in every matter great or small, a kind of
suggestive influence over those who approached him. He possessed an
inner, unseen power which seemed to triumph over all, ... even over the
claims of truthfulness and logic;[900] besides this, he was gifted with
an imposing presence and an uncanny glance. He was by no means curt
in his answers, but spoke freely to everyone in a manner calculated
to awaken the confidence and unlock the hearts of his hearers. Of
his talkativeness he himself once said: “I don’t believe the Emperor
[Charles V.] says so much in a year as I do in a day.”[901]
* * * * *
His “disinterestedness which led him to care but little about money and
worldly goods”[902] increased the respect felt for him and his work.
So little did he care about heaping up riches, that, when scolding the
Wittenbergers on account of their avarice, he could say that “though
poor, he found more pleasure in what was given him for his needs than
the rich and opulent amongst them did in their own possessions.”[903]
So entirely was he absorbed in his public controversy that he paid too
little attention to his own requirements, particularly in his bachelor
days; he even relates how, before he took a wife, he had for a whole
year not made his bed, or had it made for him, so that his sweat caused
it to rot. “I was so weary, overworked all the day, that I threw
myself on the bed and knew nothing about it.”[904] He was never used
to excessive comfort or to indulgence in the finer pleasures of the
table. In every respect, in conversation and intercourse with others
and in domestic life, he was a lover of simplicity. In this he was ever
anxious to set a good example to his fellow-workers.
Although he frequently accepted with gratitude presents from the
great, yet on occasion he was not above cautioning givers of the
danger such gifts involved, when the “eyes of the whole world are
upon us.”[905] In 1542, when there was a prospect of his receiving
from his friend Amsdorf, the new “bishop” of Naumburg, presents out
of the estates of the bishopric, he twice wrote to him to refrain
from sending him anything, even a single hare, because “our courtly
centaurs [the selfish and rapacious nobles] must be given no pretext
for venting their glowing hate against us on the trumped-up charge that
we were desirous of securing gain through you.” “They have gulped down
everything without compunction, but still would blame us were we to
accept a paltry gift of game. Let them feed in God’s or another’s [the
devil’s] name, so long as we are not accused of greed.”[906] Döllinger
speaks of Luther as “a sympathetic friend, devoid of avarice and greed
of money, and a willing helper of others.”[907]
He was always ready to assist the poor with open-handed and kindly
liberality, and his friends especially, when in trouble or distress,
could reckon on his charity.
When his own means were insufficient he sought by word of mouth or by
letter to enlist the sympathy of others, of friends in the town, or
even of the Elector himself, in the cause of the indigent. On more
than one occasion his good nature was unfairly taken advantage of.
This, however, did not prevent his pleading for the poor who flocked
to Wittenberg from all quarters and were wont to address themselves to
him. Thus, for instance, in 1539 we have a note in which he appealed to
certain “dear gentlemen” to save a “pious and scholarly youth” from the
“pangs of hunger” by furnishing him with 30 Gulden; he himself was no
longer able to afford the gifts he had daily to bestow, though he would
be willing, in case of necessity, to contribute half the sum.[908]
Many of the feeble and oppressed experienced his help in the law. He
reminds the lawyers how hard it is for the poor to comply with the
legal formalities necessary for their protection. On one occasion, when
it was a question of the defence of a poor woman, he says: “You know
Dr. Martin is not only a theologian and the champion of the faith, but
also an advocate of the poor, who troop to him from every place and
corner and demand his aid and his intercession with the authorities, so
that he would have enough to do even if no other burden rested on his
shoulders. But Dr. Martin loves to serve the poor.”[909]
In 1527, when the plague reached Wittenberg, he stayed on in the
town with Bugenhagen in order at least to comfort the people by his
presence. The University was transferred for the time being to Jena
(and then to Schlieben) and the Elector accordingly urged him to
migrate to Jena with his wife and family. Luther however insisted
on remaining, above all on account of the urgent need of setting an
example to his preachers, who were too much preoccupied with the safety
of their own families. It was then that he wrote the tract “Ob man fur
dem Sterben fliehen muge” (Whether one may flee from death), answering
the question in the negative so far as the ministers were concerned. In
such dire trouble the flock were more than ever in need of spiritual
help; the preachers were to exhort the people to learn diligently
from the Word of God how to live and how to die, also, by Confession,
reception of the Supper, reconciliation with their neighbours, etc., to
“prepare themselves in advance should the Lord knock speedily.”[910]
He displayed the same courage during the epidemic of the so-called
“English sweat,” a fever which, in 1529, broke out at Wittenberg, and
in other German towns, and carried off many victims. Again in 1538 and
in 1539 he braved new outbreaks of the plague at Wittenberg. His wish
was, that, in such cases, one or two preachers should be specially
appointed to look after those stricken with the malady. “Should the lot
fall on me,” he says in 1542, “I should not be afraid. I have now been
through three pestilences and mixed with some who suffered from it ...
and am none the worse.”[911] “God usually protects the ministers of
His Word,” he writes in 1538, “if one does not run in and out of the
inns and lie in the beds; confessions there is no need to hear, for we
bring the Word of Life.”[912] The fact that he could boast of having
braved the plague and remained at his post naturally tended to increase
his influence with his congregation.[913]
He had passed through a severe mental struggle previous to the epidemic
of 1529. Only by dint of despairing efforts was he able to overcome
his terrors of conscience concerning his doctrine and his own personal
salvation. This inner combat so hardened him that he was fearless where
others were terrified and fled. Of his own qualms of conscience he
wrote to a friend in April, 1529: If it be an apostolic gift to fight
with devils and to lie frequently at the point of death, then he was
indeed in this a very Peter or Paul, however much he might lack the
other apostolic characters.[914] Here we have the idea of his Divine
calling, always most to the front in times of danger, which both
strengthens him and enables him to inspire others with a little of his
own confidence. “I and Bugenhagen alone remain here,” he wrote during
the days of the plague, “but we are not alone, for Christ is with
us and will triumph in us and shelter us from Satan, as we hope and
trust.”[915]
* * * * *
We already are acquainted with some of his admissions of his own
weakness and acknowledgments of the greater gifts and achievements of
others--confessions which have been extolled as a proof of his real
humility.
“I have no such foolish humility,” so he says, “as to wish to deny
the gifts God has bestowed on me. In myself I have indeed enough and
more than enough to humble me and teach me that I am nothing. In God,
however, we may well pride ourselves, and rejoice and glory in His
gifts and extol them, as I myself do on account of my German Psalter;
for I studied the Psalter, thanks be to God, with great fruit; but
all to the honour and glory of God to Whom be praise for ever and
ever.” This he wrote to Eobanus Hessus, the poet, in a high-flown
letter thanking him for translating the German Psalter into excellent
Latin.[916] Of his own virtues or sinfulness he preferred to speak
humorously, as his manner was. Thus, he says, for instance, in 1526,
in his suppressed “Widder den Radschlag der Meintzischen Pfafferey,”
that “he had not defiled any man’s wife or child,” “had not robbed
anyone of his goods ... nor murdered or assaulted anyone or given help
or counsel thereto”; his sin consisted in “not pulling a long face but
in insisting on being merry”; also in eating meat on forbidden days.
People might defame his life, but he was not going to heed “the dirty
hogsnouts.”[917]
His statements belittling his own powers and achievements, coming from
a man whose apparently overmastering self-confidence had, from the
beginning, prepossessed so many of his followers in his favour, afford
a subject for psychological study. He seems the more ready to give full
play to his confidence the more he feels his weakness face to face with
the menace of danger, and the more he experiences in the depths of his
soul the raging of doubts which he attributes to the devil.
In the humble admissions he makes he never conceals how much he stands
in need of assistance. He does not hide from himself the fact that
he dreads outward troubles, and is deficient in strong and exalted
virtue. But side by side with his faults, he is fond of gazing on and
extolling God’s gifts in his person. His peculiar form of humility, his
prayer and his trust in God find expression in certain utterances and
experiences, on which no judgment can be passed until we have before
us a larger selection of them, particularly of such as seem to be less
premeditated.
_Prayer and Confidence in God._
Luther’s strangely undaunted confidence and the personal nature of his
reliance on God’s help form part of his mental physiognomy.
He sees around him much distress and corruption and exclaims: “Alas,
we are living outwardly under the empire of the devil, hence we can
neither see nor hear anything good from without.” And yet, he proceeds
in his usual forced tone, “inwardly we are living in the kingdom of
Christ, where we behold God’s glory and His grace! For of Christ
it is said: ‘Rule Thou in the midst of Thine enemies.’” “Hatred is
our reward in this world.” “Our reward is excessive considering the
insignificance of the service we render Christ. But what is the world,
its anger, or its prince? A smoke that vanishes, a bubble that bursts,
such is everything that is opposed to the Lord Whom we serve and Who
works in us.” With these words, so expressive of his determination, he
directs his trusted pupil, Conrad Cordatus, to enter courageously upon
the office of preacher at Stendal in the March.[918]
Again and again he seeks to reanimate his faith and confidence by
calling to mind not merely God’s faithfulness to His promises, but
also his own personal “sufferings” and “temptations,” the only escape
from which, as he believed, lay in the most obstinate and presumptuous
belief in his cause, and in the conviction that God was constantly
intervening in his favour.
“Not only from Holy Scripture,” he said in a conversation in 1540,
“but also from my violent inner combats and temptations have I learnt
that Christ is God incarnate, and that there is a Trinity. I now know
it even better from experience than by faith that these articles are
true. For in our greatest temptations nothing can help us but the
assurance that Christ became man and is now our intercessor at the
right hand of the Father. There is nothing that excites our confidence
to such a degree.... God, too, has championed this article from the
beginning of the world against countless heretics, and even to-day
defends it against Turk and Pope; He incessantly confirms it by
miracles and permits us to call His Son, the Son of God and true God,
and grants all that we ask in Christ’s name. For what else has saved
us even till the present day in so many perils but prayer to Christ?
Whoever says it is Master Philip’s and my doing, lies. It is God Who
does it for Christ’s sake.... Therefore we hold fast to these articles
in spite of the objections of reason. They have remained and will
continue.”[919]
Luther often had recourse to prayer, especially when he found himself
in difficulty, or in an awkward situation from which he could see no
escape; in his letters he also as a rule asks for prayers for himself
and for the common cause of the new Evangel. It is impossible to take
such requests as a mere formality; his way of making them is usually so
full of feeling that they must have been meant in earnest.
In 1534 he wrote a special instruction for the simple and unlearned on
the way to pray.[920] Many parts of this booklet recall the teaching of
the great masters of prayer, though unfortunately it is imbued with his
peculiar tenets.
He urges people to pray fervently against “the idolatry of the Turk,
of the Pope, of all false teachers and devil’s snares”; he also mocks
at the prayers of the “parsons and monks,”[921] unable to refrain
from his bitter polemics even in an otherwise edifying work. Yet the
body of the booklet teaches quite accurately, in a fashion recalling
the directions given by St. Ignatius, how the Our Father and other
daily prayers may be devoutly recited, with pauses after the various
petitions or words, so as to form a sort of meditation. He himself, so
he assures his readers, was in the habit of “sucking” in this way at
the Paternoster, and was also fond of occupying himself with a similar
prayerful analysis of the Psalter.
His regular daily prayer he says elsewhere was the Our Father,
the Creed and the other usual formulas.[922] “I have daily to do
violence to myself in order to pray,” he remarked to his friends,
“and I am satisfied to repeat when I go to bed the Ten Commandments,
the Our Father and then a verse or two; thinking over them I fall
asleep.”[923] “The Our Father is my prayer, I pray this and sometimes
intermingle with it something from the Psalms, so as to put to shame
the vain scoffers and false teachers.”
It must not be overlooked, however, that on extraordinary occasions,
when his hatred of the Papacy was more than usually strong or when
troubles pressed, his prayer was apt to assume strange forms. His
abomination for the Pope found vent, as he repeatedly tells us, in
his maledictory Paternoster.[924] When in great fear and anxiety
concerning Melanchthon, who lay sick at Weimar, he, to use his own
quaint phraseology, “threw down his tools before our God,” to compel
Him, as it were, to render assistance. Another such attempt to do
violence to God is the purport of a prayer uttered in dejection during
his stay in the fortress of Coburg, which Veit Dietrich, who overheard
it, gives us in what he states were Luther’s own words: “I know that
Thou art Our God and Father; hence I am certain Thou wilt put to shame
all those who persecute Thy children. Shouldst Thou not do so, there
will be as much danger for Thee as for us. This is Thy cause, and we
only took it up because we knew Thou wouldst defend it,” etc.[925]
This intimate friend of Luther’s also tells us, that, in those
anxious days, Luther’s conversations concerning God and his hopes for
the future bore an even deeper stamp than usual of sincerity and depth
of feeling. Dietrich was one of Luther’s most passionately devoted
pupils.
“Ah, prayer can do much,” such are Luther’s words in one of the
numerous passages of the Table-Talk, where he recommends its use. “By
prayer many are saved, even now, just as we ourselves prayed Philip
back to life.”[926]
“It is impossible,” he says, “that God should not answer the prayer of
faith; that He does not always do so is another matter. God does not
give according to a prescribed measure, but heaped up and shaken down,
as He says.... Hence James says (v. 16): ‘Pray one for another,’ etc.
‘The continual prayer of a just man availeth much.’ That is one of the
best verses in his Epistle. Prayer is a powerful thing.”[927]
Anyone who has followed Luther’s development and understands his
character will know where to find the key to these remarkable, and at
first sight puzzling, declarations of trust in God and zeal in prayer.
When once the herald of the new religion had contrived to persuade
himself of his Divine call, such blindly confident prayer and trust in
God no longer involve anything wonderful. His utterances, undoubtedly,
have a good side, for instance, his frank admission of his weakness, of
his want of virtue and of the parlous condition of his cause, should
God forsake it. All his difficulties he casts into the lap of the
Almighty and of Christ, in the true Divine sonship of whom he declares
he believes firmly. It must, however, strike anyone who examines his
prayers that he never once expresses the idea which should accompany
all true prayer, viz. resignation into the hands of God and entire
willingness to follow Him, to go forward, or turn back whithersoever
God wills; never do we find him imploring light so as to know whether
the course he is pursuing and the work he has undertaken is indeed
right and pleasing to God. On the contrary, in his prayers, in his
thoughts and amidst all his inner conflicts, he resolutely sets aside
as out of the question any idea of changing the religious attitude he
has once assumed.[928] All his striving is directed towards this one
end, viz. that God will vouchsafe to further his cause and grant him
victory. He, as it were, foists his cause on Heaven. Hence there is
lacking a property imperatively demanded by prayer, viz. that holy
indifference and readiness to serve God in the way pleasing to Him to
which the Psalmist alludes when he says: “Teach me to do Thy Will, O
Lord.”
The dominating idea which both animates his confidence and gives it its
peculiar stamp, also furnishes him with a sword against the Papacy,
with which he lays about him all the more vigorously the more fervently
he prays. In praying he blows into a flame his hatred of all who stand
up for the ancient Church; in his prayers he seems to find all the
monstrous accusations he intends to hurl against her. Yet he himself
elsewhere reminds his hearers, that, as a preparation for prayer, they
must put away all bad feeling, since our Lord warns the man who is at
variance with his brother first to be reconciled to him before coming
with his offering. Luther also impresses on the monks and clergy that
they must not pray for what is displeasing to God ... for instance, for
strength to fulfil their obligation of celibacy or their vows.--Might
they not justly have retorted that he, too, should not insist so
blindly that God should establish his work? And might not the fanatics
and Anabaptists have urged a _tu quoque_ against him when he accused
them of spiritual pride and blind presumption because of their fervent
prayers?
We shall not go out of our way to repeat again what we have already
said of his pseudo-mysticism. But in order to understand rightly
Luther’s prayers and trustfulness, so frequently reminiscent of the
best men of the Catholic past, it is necessary to bear in mind his
peculiar mystic leanings.
_Other Personal Traits. His Family Life._
Luther was able to combine in a remarkable manner his pseudo-mysticism
with practical and sober common sense.
Where it is not a question of his Divine mission, of the rights of
the new Evangel or of politics--of which by nature he was unfitted
to judge--we usually find him eminently practical in his views. His
intercourse with others was characterised by simplicity and directness,
and the tone of his conversation was both vigorous and original. It
was most fortunate for him that his practical insight into things
so soon enabled him to detect the exaggeration and peril of the
movement set on foot by the fanatics. Had he been as incautious as
they, the State authorities would soon have crushed his plans. This
he clearly perceived from the very outset of the movement. Something
similar, though on a smaller scale, happened later in the case of
the Antinomians. Luther was opposed to such extravagance, and, when
friendly admonition proved of no avail, was perfectly ready to resort
to force. Whether, from his own standpoint, he was in a position to set
matters straight in the case of either of the two movements is another
question; the truth is that his standpoint had suspiciously much in
common with both. At any rate his encounter with the fanatics taught
him to lay much less stress than formerly on the “Spirit,” and to
insist more on the outward Word and the preaching of the “Evangel.”
It must also be noted, that, though accustomed to go forward bravely
and beat down all difficulties by main strength, yet in many instances
he was quite open to accommodate himself to circumstances, and to
yield in the interests of his cause, displaying likewise considerable
ingenuity in the choice of the means to be employed. We have already
had occasion more than once to see that he was by no means deficient
in the wisdom of the serpent. He knew how to give favourably disposed
Princes astute advice, particularly as to how they might best encourage
and promote the new Church system. To settle their quarrels and to
restore concord among them he had recourse sometimes to fiery and
even gross language, sometimes to more diplomatic measures. When the
Elector and the Duke of Saxony became estranged by the Wurzen quarrel
Luther frankly advised the former to give way, and jestingly added that
sometimes there might be good reason to “light a couple of tapers at
the devil’s altar.”
He did not, however, possess any talent as an organiser and was,
generally speaking, a very imperfect judge of the social conditions of
his time. (See vol. vi., xxxv.)
Heinrich Böhmer remarks justly: “Luther was no organiser. Not that he
was devoid of interest in or comprehension for the practical needs of
life. He was neither a secluded scholar nor a stiff-necked pedant....
His practical vein, though strong enough to enable him readily to
detect the weak spot in the proposals and creations of others, was,
however, not equal to any independent, creative and efficient action.
However bold, energetic and original as a thinker and writer, as an
organiser he was clumsy, diffident and poor in ideas. In this domain
he is entirely lacking in initiative, decision and, above all, in any
theory he could call his own.” “His regulations for public worship are
no new creation but, more often than not, merely the old, Catholic
ones, reduced and arranged to meet the needs of the evangelical
congregation.... Where he is original he not seldom ceases to be
practical. For instance, his extraordinary proposal that the Latin
service should be retained for the benefit and edification of those
familiar with the language, and his regret that it was no longer
possible to arrange a service in Greek or Hebrew, can scarcely be
characterised as anything but a professor’s whim.”[929]
* * * * *
His domestic life, owing to the simplicity, frugality and industry
which reigned there, presents the picture of an unpretentious family
home.[930]
With Catherine Bora and the children she bore him, he led--apart from
the disturbances arising from his outward controversies and inward
combats--a regular life conducive to his labours. His relations with
his life’s partner, who was absorbed in the management of the little
household, were, so it would appear, never seriously disturbed; he
was as devoted to her as she was to him, striving as she did to serve
him and to lighten his cares. As to her failings, viz. a certain
haughtiness and masterfulness, he winked at them.
In his will dated Jan. 6, 1542, he gives, as follows, his reason for
leaving everything to his “beloved and faithful wife Catherine”: “I do
this first because she, as a pious, faithful and honourable wife, has
always held me dear and in honour and, by God’s blessing, bore me and
brought up five children, who are still alive and whom may God long
preserve.”[931]
Incidentally he praises her complacency and says that she had served
him not only like a wife but like a maid. It is true, however, he says
elsewhere: “Had I to marry another, I should hew myself an obedient
wife out of stone, for I despair of any woman’s obedience.”[932]
His last letters to Bora attest great mutual confidence, even though
he does just hint in his usual joking way at their common faults: “I
think, that, had you been here, you would also have advised us to do
this, so that then for once we should have followed your advice.”
“To my well-beloved housewife Catherine Lutheress, Doctoress,
Zulsdorferess, pork-butcheress and whatever else she may be. Grace to
you and peace in Christ and my poor old love.... I commend to God’s
keeping you and all the household; greet all the guests. [Signed] M.
L., your old sweetheart.” Writing to his wife who was so anxious about
him, he says: “You want to undertake the care of your God just as
though He were not almighty and able to create ten Dr. Martins.... Let
Master Philip read this letter, for I have not had time to write to
him; console yourself with this, that I would be with you were I able,
as you know, and as he perhaps also knows from experience with his
own wife, and understands it all perfectly.” “We are very grateful to
you for your great anxiety that prevents you from sleeping.... Do you
pray and leave the rest to God. It is written: ‘Cast thy care upon the
Lord, and He shall sustain thee’ (Psalm lv.).”[933]
His humour helped to tide him over any minor annoyances for which
Catherine and the inmates of his house were responsible. He preferred
to oppose the shield of jest to Catherine’s obstinacy, to her feminine
desire to interfere in business that was not hers, as well as to
her jealous rule in matters pertaining to the management of the
household. When in his letters he addresses her as “Lord Katey,” and
so forth, his object was to reprove her gently for that imperiousness
under which he himself had sometimes to smart. We learn from outside
sources that her interference was particularly troublesome to others
at the time of Luther’s conflict with the lawyers on the validity of
clandestine marriages, when his wife’s friendly interest in certain
couples concerned displayed itself in loud and over-zealous advocacy
of Luther’s view of the question. It was then that Cruciger, the
Wittenberg theologian, described her as the “firebrand in Luther’s
house.”[934]
He was not merely unable to accustom himself to the humdrum
occupations connected with household management, but the annoyance it
entailed was so repugnant to him that in 1538 he dissuaded a preacher
who wished to marry a second time, telling him that “the management of
a family is in our day the most troublesome thing on earth, so that,
knowing the wickedness of the world, were I a young man I would rather
die than again become a married man, even though, after my Katey, a
queen were offered me in marriage.”[935] Evidently he must have found
something to regret.
Both took their share in the troublesome and unpretentious work of
educating and instructing the children. Luther rightly extols such
labours as great and meritorious in God’s sight, just as he frequently
describes the seemingly lowly callings, which, in the eyes of the
world, are of no account, e.g. marriage, as ennobled by God when
performed by pious Christians in accordance with His Will and to the
benefit of body and soul. (Above, p. 142 f.)
By means of a fairly well-ordered division of the day he found time,
in the intervals of the demands made by his domestic duties, to
devote long hours to the multifarious and exhausting labours of which
we know something. Self-denial in the interests of the cause he had
espoused, renunciation of ease and enjoyment so as better to serve
an end for which he was impassioned, disregard even of the pressing
claims of health--all this is not easily to be matched in any other
writer of eminence and talent occupying so historic a position in
public life. Luther, plagued as he was by extraneous difficulties,
with his professorship, his pulpit and his care for souls, seemed to
revolve the wheel of time. Without unheard-of energy and a fiery,
overmastering enthusiasm for the cause his achievements would indeed
be incomprehensible.
The Catholic, however, when contemplating these traits so far as they
redound to Luther’s credit must deeply regret, that such energy was
not employed in a well-ordered amelioration of the ecclesiastical
system on the basis of the true Christian doctrine and in harmony with
the authority divinely appointed. If he considers these favourable
sides of Luther’s character with befitting broad-mindedness, his grief
can only deepen at the action, characterised by such perversity and
contradiction, by which Luther sought utterly to destroy the existing
Church and her faith as revealed and handed down.