THE MENTAL STRUGGLES OF A YOUTH, AND HIS
ENTRANCE INTO A MONASTERY.
(1510.)
Great was the wickedness of the world, heavy the oppression under which
the poor suffered, coarse the greed after enjoyment, boundless the
covetousness both of ecclesiastics and laymen. Who was there to punish
the young nobleman who maltreated the peasants? who to defend the poor
citizen against the powerful family unions of the rich counsellors?
Hard was the labour of the German peasant from morning till evening,
through summer and winter; pestilence was quickly followed by famine
and hunger: the whole system of the world seemed in confusion, and
earthly life devoid of love. The only hope of deliverance from misery,
was in God; before Him all earthly power, whether of Emperor or Pope,
was weak and insignificant, and the wisdom of man was transitory as the
flower of the field. By his mercy men might be delivered from the
miseries of this life, and compensated by eternal happiness for what
they had suffered here; but how were they to obtain this mercy? by what
virtues could weak men hope to gain the endless treasure of God's
favour? Man had been doomed from the time of Adam to will the good and
do the evil. Vain were his highest virtues; inherited sin was his
curse; and if he obtained mercy from God, it was not by his own
merits.[19]
These were the questions that then struggled within the agonized hearts
of men. But from the holy records of Scripture, which had only been a
dark tradition to the people, went forth the words; Christ is love. The
ruling Church knew little of this love; in it God was kept far from the
hearts of men: the image of the Crucified One was concealed behind
countless saints, who were all made necessary as intercessors with a
wrathful God. But the great craving of the German nature was to find
itself in close connection with the Almighty, and the longing for the
love of God was unquenchable. But the Pope maintained that he was the
only administrator of the inexhaustible merits of Christ; and the
Church also taught, that by the intercession of saints for the sins of
men, an endless treasure of good works, prayers, fasts, and penances
were made available for the blessing of others; and all these treasures
were at the disposition of the Pope, who could dispense them to whom he
chose, as a deliverance from their sins. Thus, when believers united
together in a pious community, the Pope was able to confer on such a
brotherhood the privilege of passing over from one to the other, the
merits of the saints, the surplus of prayers and masses, as well as of
good works done for the Church.
In the year 1530, Luther complained that the number of these
communities was countless.[20] An example will show how rough and
miserable their mechanism was, and the "Brotherhood of the Eleven
Thousand Virgins," called "St. Ursula's Schifflein," is selected,
because the Elector, Frederick the Wise, was one of the founders and
brothers. The collection of spiritual treasures given by statute to
enable the brotherhood to obtain eternal happiness, amounted to 6,455
masses, 3,550 entire psalters, 200,000 rosaries, 200,000 _Te Deum
Laudamus_, 1,600 _Gloria in excelsis Deo_. Besides this, 11,000 prayers
for the patroness St. Ursula, and 630 times 11,000 Paternosters and Ave
Marias; also 50 times 10,000 Paternosters and Ave Marias for 10,000
knights, &c.; and the whole redeeming power of these treasures was for
the benefit of the members of the brotherhood. Many spiritual
foundations and private persons had gained to themselves especial merit
by their great contributions to the prayer treasures. At the revival of
the society, the Elector Frederick had presented a beautiful silver
Ursula. A layman was entitled to become a member of the brotherhood if
he once in his life had repeated 11,000 Paternosters and Ave Marias: if
he repeated daily thirty-two, he gained it in a year, if sixteen, in
two, and if eight, in four years: if any one was hindered by marriage,
sickness, or business, from completing this number of prayers, he was
enabled to enter by having eleven masses read for him; and so on. Yet
this brotherhood was one of the best, for the members had not to pay
money; it was to be a brotherhood of poor people who wished only to
assist each other to heaven by mutual prayer; and we maintain that
these brotherhoods were the most spiritual part of the declining Church
of the middle ages.
The indulgences, on the other hand, were the foulest spot in its
diseased body. The Pope, as administrator of the inexhaustible treasure
of the merits of Christ, sold to believers, drafts on this store in
exchange for money. It is true that the Church itself had not entirely
lost the idea that the Pope could not himself forgive sins, but only
remit the penances the Church prescribed; those, however, who held
these views, individuals of the university and worthy village priests,
were obliged to be careful that their teaching should not come into
open collision with the business of the seller of indulgences. For what
did the right teaching of their own Church signify to the papists of
the sixteenth century? It was money that they craved for their women
and children, their relatives, and princely houses. There was a fearful
community of interests between the bishops and the fanatical members of
the mendicant orders. Nothing had made Huss and his tenets so
insupportable to them as the struggle against the sale of indulgences:
the great Wessel had been driven out of Paris into misery for teaching
repentance and grace; and it was the sellers of indulgences who caused
the venerable Johannes Vesalia to die in the prison of a monastery at
Mayence, he who first spoke the noble words, "Why should I believe what
I know?"
It is known how prevalent the traffic in indulgences became in Germany
in the beginning of the sixteenth century, and how impudently the
reckless cheating was carried on. When Tetzel, a well-fed haughty
Dominican, rode into a city with his box of indulgences, he was
accompanied by a large body of monks and priests: the bells were rung;
ecclesiastics and laymen met him, and reverentially conducted him to
the church; his great crucifix, with the holes of the nails, and the
crown of thorns, was erected in the nave, and sometimes the believers
were allowed to see the blood of the Crucified One trickling down the
cross. Church banners, on which were the arms of the Pope with the
triple crown, were placed by the cross; in front of it the cursed box,
strongly clamped with iron, and near these on one side, a pulpit from
which the monk set forth with rough eloquence the wonderful powers of
his indulgences, and showed a large parchment of the Pope's with many
seals appended to it. On the other side was the pay table, with
indulgence tickets, writing materials, and money baskets; there the
ecclesiastical coadjutors sold to the thronging people everlasting
salvation.[21]
Countless were the crimes of the Church, against which all the wounded
moral feelings of the Germans were roused. The opposition spread all
over Germany; but the man had not yet appeared, who, by a fearful
inward struggle, discerning all the griefs and longings of the people,
was preparing to become the leader of his nation, which would in his
determined character, see with enthusiasm its own mind embodied. For
two years he had been teacher of natural philosophy and dialects in the
new university of Wittenberg, and was still lying in the dust of the
Roman plains, looking with pious enthusiasm at the towers of the holy
city appearing on the verge of the horizon. In the mean while we may
learn from the experiences of a Latin scholar, what was working in the
souls of the people.
Frederick Mecum (Latinized into Myconius[22]) was the son of honest
citizens of Lichtenfelds, in Upper Franconia, and was born in 1491.
When thirteen years of age, he went to the Latin school of the then
flourishing city of Annaberg, where he experienced what we propose
giving in his own words. In 1510 he went into a monastery, and as a
Franciscan he was one of the first, most zealous, and faithful
followers of the Wittenberg professors. He left his order, became a
preacher at the new church in Thuringia, and finally pastor and
superintendent at Gotha, where he established the Reformation, and died
in 1546. The connecting link between him and Luther was of a very
peculiar nature; he was not only his most intimate friend in many
relations of private life, but there was a poetry in his connection
with him which spread a halo round his whole life. Seven years before
Luther began the Reformation, Myconius saw in a dream the vision of
that great man, who calmed the doubts of his excited heart; enlightened
by his dream, the faithful, pious German discovered in him the great
friend of every future hour. But another circumstance gives us an
interest in the narrator. However unlike, this gentle, delicately
organized man may appear to his daring friend, there was a striking
similarity in the youthful life of both, and much which is unknown to
us of Luther's youth may be explained in what Myconius relates of his
own. Both were poor scholars from a Latin school; both were driven by
their inward struggles and youthful enthusiasm into a monastery, and
found there only new doubts, greater struggles, and years of torment
and anxious uncertainty instead of that peace for which they so
passionately longed. To both was the shameless Tetzel the rock of
offence, which stirred up their minds, and determined the whole course
of their future life: finally, both died in the same year,--Myconius
seven weeks after Luther, having five years before, been restored to
life from a mortal illness by Luther's letter of invocation.[23] Few of
Frederick Myconius' works have been printed: besides theological
essays, he wrote a chronicle of his own time in German, in which he
describes with the greatest detail his own labours and the state of
Gotha. "The dream" which he had the first night after he entered the
monastery is well known, and has often been printed. In the dream the
Apostle Paul presents himself to him as his leader, and, as Myconius in
after years fancied, had the form, face, and voice of Luther. This long
dream was written in Latin, but we find a German translation of the
introduction, in a manuscript of the same date, in the Duke's library
at Gotha, from which we give the following extracts:--
"Johannis Tetzel of Pyrna in Meissen, a Dominican monk, was a powerful
preacher of the papal indulgences. He tarried two years in the then new
city of Annaberg for this object, and so deluded the people that they
all believed there was no other way to obtain forgiveness of sins and
eternal life, than by the sufficiency of our own works, which
sufficiency he added was impossible. But there was one way remaining,
namely, to obtain it by money from the Pope: so we bought the papal
indulgence, which he called forgiveness of sins and a certain entrance
into eternal life. Here I could relate wonder upon wonder, and many
incredible things which I heard preached by Tetzel for two years at
Annaberg, for he preached every day, and I listened to him assiduously.
I even repeated his sermons by heart to others; imitating his delivery
and gestures; not that I did it to ridicule him, but from my great
earnestness, for I considered it all as _oracular_, and the word of
God, which ought to be believed; and what ever came from the Pope I
considered as if it were from Christ himself.
"At last, about Whitsuntide, 1510, he threatened to take down the red
cross, close the door of heaven, and extinguish the sun, adding, that
we should never more have the opportunity of obtaining remissions of
sins and eternal life for so little money, as it could not be hoped
that this benevolent mission from the Pope would return again as long
as the world lasted. He admonished every one to take care of his soul,
and those of his friends, both living and dead, for that now was the
accepted time, now was the day of salvation. And he said, 'Let no one
neglect his own eternal happiness, for if ye have not the papal letter,
ye cannot be absolved from many sins, nor, _casibus reservatis_, by any
man.' Printed letters were publicly affixed to the walls and doors of
the church, in which it was promised that, as a token of thanks to the
German people for their piety, from henceforth till the close of the
sale, the indulgence letters and the full power of remission should be
sold at a less price; at the end of the letter, underneath, was
written, _pauperibus dentur gratis_,--to the poor who have nothing, the
letters of indulgence shall be given without money, for God's sake.
"Then I began to deal with this commissary of indulgence wares; but in
truth I was led and encouraged hereto by the Holy Spirit, although I
myself knew not at the time what I did.
"My dear father had taught me in my childhood the Ten Commandments, the
Lord's Prayer, and the Creed, and insisted upon my continually praying;
for, said he, all that we have is from God alone, and He gives it us
gratis, and He will lead and direct us if we pray to Him diligently. Of
the papal indulgences, he said, they were only nets with which money
was fished out of the pockets of the simple, and one could not
assuredly obtain for money the forgiveness of sins and eternal life.
But the priests became angry when such things were said. When,
therefore, I daily heard in the sermons nothing but praise of the
indulgences, I doubted whom I should most believe, my dear father, or
the priests as teachers of the Church. But though I had doubts, I
believed more the instructions of the priests than those of my father.
The only thing I could not, however, allow, was, that the forgiveness
of sins could only be obtained by money, especially when it was
question of the poor. Therefore, the _clausula_ at the end of the papal
letter, _pauperibus gratis dentur propter Deum_, pleased me
wonderfully.
"As at the end of three days, the cross, together with the steps and
ladder to heaven, were to be taken down with extraordinary solemnity,
the spirit led me to go to the commissary, and beg of him letters of
remission out of charity to the poor. I declared that I was a sinner,
and poor, and needed forgiveness of my sins, which I ought to receive
gratis. The second day, at the time of vespers, I entered the house of
Hans Pflock, where Tetzel with the confessors and crowd of priests were
assembled together. I accosted them in the Latin language, and
entreated that they would, according to the command in the Pope's
letter, allow me, a poor lad, to obtain the absolution of all my sins
gratis, and for God's sake, '_Etiam nullo casu reservato_,'--without
reserve, and thereupon they should give me the '_literas
testimoniales_,'--written testimony, of the Pope. The priests were much
astonished at my Latin speech, for it was at this time a rare thing,
especially with young boys; and they went speedily out of the room into
the next apartment, where was Herr Commissary Tetzel. They laid before
him my request, and begged of him to give me gratis the letter of
indulgence. At last, after holding long counsel, they came again, and
brought me this answer: 'Dear son, we have carefully laid your petition
before the Herr Commissary, and he bids us say he would gladly grant
it, but he cannot; and if he were to do so, this concession would
become powerless, and of no avail. For he has shown us that it is clear
from the Pope's letter, it is those only _qui porrigent manum
adjutricem_,--those who help with the hand, that is, those who give
money, that will certainly partake of the merciful indulgences and
treasures of the Church, and of the merits of Christ.' And this they
told me all in German, for there was not one among them who could speak
three words of Latin rightly.
"But I again renewed my petition, and showed them, how in the papal
letter the holy father had commanded that these indulgences should be
freely given to the poor, for God's sake, more especially as it was
therein written: _ad mandatum Domini papae proprium_, that is, by his
highness the Pope's own commands.
"Then they went again to the proud, haughty monk, and begged him to
grant my petition, for I was a deep-thinking and eloquent youth, who
deserved that more should be bestowed upon him than upon others. But
they brought back the same answer. I remained firm, however, and said
that they did great injustice to me, a poor boy whom neither God nor
the Pope would shut out from grace, and whom they wanted to discard for
the sake of a few pence, which I had not. Then followed a dispute. They
said I must give something, however little, if it was only a few
groschen, that the helping hand might not be wanting. I answered, 'I
have it not, I am poor.' At last it came to this, I was to give six
_pfennige_, to which I replied again, 'I have not a single _pfennig_.'
They tried to persuade me, and conferred together. At last I heard them
say that they were in anxiety on two points; first, they must on no
account let me go without the indulgence, as this might be a concerted
plan, and lead to mischief hereafter, for it was clearly written in the
Pope's letter that indulgences were to be given free to the poor; but
on the other hand, it was necessary to take something from me, that
others might not hear that they were given away gratis, in which case a
whole crowd of poor scholars and beggars would come and demand them.
They need not have had any anxiety on this account, for the poor
beggars would rather seek for bread to drive away their hunger.
"After they had taken counsel they came again to me, and offered me six
_pfennige_, that I might give it to the commissary; by this
contribution they said that I should become one of the builders of the
church of St. Peters at Rome, a slayer of the Turks, and partaker of
the indulgence and grace of Christ. But I spoke out freely, stirred by
the Holy Spirit, and said that if I was to buy indulgence and remission
of sins, I could sell one of my books, and obtain it with my own money;
but I wished to have it given me freely for God's sake, or they would
have to answer before God, for having trifled with the happiness of my
soul for the sake of six _pfennige_, when both God and the Pope desired
that I should be partaker of the forgiveness of sins for charity sake.
I said this, but truly did not know how it stood with the letters of
indulgence.
"After this speech the priests inquired of me from whence I had been
sent, and who had instructed me to deal with them about this matter.
Then I told them the simple truth, how it was that I had not been told
or sent by any one, or induced to come by other men's counsel, but had
of myself made this request, in full trust and confidence in the free
and charitable gift of forgiveness of sins; and I had never before in
my life spoken to, or dealt with such great people, for I was by nature
modest; and if I had not been constrained by my great thirst for the
mercy of God, I should not have ventured on so high an undertaking.
Then they again offered me the indulgence, but in this way: I was to
buy it with six _pfennige_, and these _pfennige_ were to be returned to
me for myself. But I remained firm that he who had the power should
give me the indulgence free; and if he would not, I would commend the
affair to my dear God, and resign myself into his hands; and so they
dismissed me.
"The holy thieves were however sorrowful over this affair. I too was
somewhat troubled that I had not got my indulgence; yet I also rejoiced
that in spite of them there was one in heaven who would forgive the
sins of the penitent sinner, without money and without price, according
to the text which I had often repeated in church: 'As I live, saith the
Lord God, I would not the death of a sinner, but that he should be
converted and live.' Ah, dear Lord God, thou knowest that I have not
lied or invented.
"I was so overcome by all this, that whilst I was going home to my
lodging, I was dissolved in tears. When I arrived there, I went into my
room and took the crucifix, that always lay on the table in my study,
placed it on the bench, and fell down before it on the ground. I cannot
here describe it, but I then felt the spirit of prayer and grace, which
thou, my God and Lord, pouredst out upon me. The purport of my prayer
was this, I beg that thou, dear God, wouldst be my father, and wouldst
forgive me my sins. I resign myself to thee altogether and entirely;
thou mayest do with me what thou pleasest, and though the priests will
not be merciful to me without money, be thou my merciful God and
Father.
"Then I found that my whole heart was changed: I felt vexed with all
worldly things, and imagined that I was quite wearied with this life.
Only one thing I desired, which was, to live for God and to please Him.
But who was there that could teach me, and how was I to effect this?
For the Word, the light and life of men, was throughout the whole world
buried in the darkness of human traditions and the mad idea of 'good
works.' Of Christ nothing was said, nothing was known of Him; or if He
was mentioned, He was represented to us as an angry and terrible judge,
whom his mother and all the saints in heaven could hardly appease, or
persuade to be merciful even by tears of blood; and it was said that
He, Christ, would cast those men who repented, for seven years into
purgatory for every mortal sin: there was no difference between the
pains of purgatory and those of hell, except that they were not
eternal. But now the Holy Spirit gave me the hope that God would be
merciful unto me.
"After this I began to consider how I was to enter upon a new course of
life. I saw the sinfulness of the whole world, and of the whole human
race. I saw my own manifold sins which were so very great. I had heard
somewhat of the great holiness and of the pure and innocent life of
monks; how they served God day and night, were separated from all the
wickedness of the world, and lived a temperate, pious, and chaste life,
performed masses, sang psalms, and were always fasting and praying. I
had also seen something of this plausible life, but I did not know that
it was the greatest idolatry and hypocrisy.
"I consulted with my preceptor, the master Andreas Staffeltstein, who
was rector of the school; he advised me to enter the newly built
Franciscan monastery, and for fear I should change my mind through any
long delay, he went himself with me to the monks, praised my talents
and intellect, and boasted that in me alone amongst all his scholars he
had perfect confidence, that I should become a truly godly man.
"I desired, however, beforehand to mention my undertaking to my
parents, and to hear their opinion upon it, as I was their only son and
heir; but the monks showed me out of St. Jerome that I ought not to
regard father or mother, but leave them, and take up the cross of
Christ. And they quoted the saying of Christ: 'No man, having put his
hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God;'
and thus they pressed me to become a monk. I will not here speak of the
many bonds and fetters with which they bound and shackled my
conscience. They told me I could never henceforth be happy if I did not
at once accept the offered grace of God; and as I would rather have
died than have been deprived of the grace of God and eternal life, I at
once consented, and promised that I would in three days return to the
monastery, and commence my year of probation, as it is called; that is,
I would become a pious, devout, and God-fearing monk.
"On the 14th of July, in the year 1510, about two o'clock in the
afternoon, I entered the monastery, accompanied by my preceptor, some
of my schoolfellows, and certain devout matrons, to whom I had partly
explained why I entered the ecclesiastical order. I then gave my
blessing to all who had thus accompanied me, who with many tears
implored for me God's grace and blessing. And so it came to pass that I
went into a monastery. Dear God, thou knowest that this is all true. It
was not a life of idleness nor good living that I sought, nor yet the
odour of sanctity, but I wished to please thee, and to serve thee well.
"Thus for a time I groped on in great darkness."