Butzer, however, did not allow himself to be deterred or wearied.

His wish was that the agreement in doctrine which had already been

arrived at between Luther and the South Germans admitted to the

Swabian League, should be publicly and emphatically acknowledged and

expressed. He laboured and hoped to convince even the people of

Zurich and the other Swiss that they attached--as, in fact, they

did--too harsh a meaning to Luther's doctrines, and so to induce

them to reconcile them as nearly as they could with their own. But

they could not be persuaded further than to admit that Christ's Body

was really present in the Sacrament, as food for the souls of those

who partook in faith. They were as suspicious, from their

standpoint, of his attempts at mediation, as Luther was from his.

Butzer represented to the Landgrave that the South German towns, his

allies, were united in doctrine, and that the only objection raised

by the Swiss was to the notion that Christ and His Body became

actual 'food for the stomach,'--a notion which Luther also refused

wholly to entertain. For when the latter said that Christ's Body was

eaten with the mouth, he explained at the same time that the mouth

indeed only touched the bread and did not reach this Body, and that

his doctrine was simply a declaration of a sacramental unity, in so

far as the mouth eats the bread which is united with the body in the

Sacrament. The matter, said Butzer, was a mere dispute about words,

and was only so difficult to settle because they had 'abused and

sent each other to the devil too much.'

[Illustration: PIG. 43.--BUTZER. (From the old original woodcut of

Reusner.)]

The Landgrave Philip wrote to Luther, and Luther now repeated with

warmth his own desire for a 'well-established union,' which would

enable the Protestants to oppose a common front to the immoderate

arrogance of the Papists. He only warned him again lest the matter

should remain 'rotten and unstable in its foundations.' The

Landgrave then arranged, with Luther's approval, a conference

between Melancthon and Butzer at Cassel for December 27, 1534.

Luther sent to them a 'Consideration, whether unity is possible or

not.' He repeated in this tract, with studied precision and

emphasis, those tenets of his doctrine to which Butzer had referred.

The matter, he said, ought not to remain uncertain or ambiguous. But

when Butzer now agreed with Luther's own opinion, and sent to him at

Wittenberg an explanation that Christ's Body was truly present, but

not as food for the stomach, Luther, in January 1535, declared as

his judgment, that, since the South German preachers were willing to

teach in accordance with the Augsburg Confession, he, for his part,

neither could nor would refuse such concord; and since they

distinctly confessed that Christ's Body was really and substantially

presented and eaten, he could not, if their hearts agreed with their

words, find fault with these words. He would only prefer, as there

was still too much mistrust among his own brethren, that the act of

concord should not be concluded quite so suddenly, but that time

should be allowed for a general quieting down. 'Thus,' he said, 'our

people will be able to moderate their suspicion or ill-will, and

finally let it drop; and if thus the troubled waters are calmed on

both sides, a real and permanent union can be ultimately brought

about.' Of the Swiss no notice was taken in these negotiations.

Meanwhile Butzer and Philip had to rest content with this; and was

it not an important step forwards? This work of union, together with

the Council which was to help in uniting the whole Church, took a

prominent place during the next few years of Luther's life and

labours.

CHAPTER II.

NEGOTIATIONS RESPECTING A COUNCIL AND UNION AMONG THE PROTESTANTS.--THE

LEGATE VERGERIUS 1535.--THE WITTENBERG CONCORD 1536.

Pope Paul III., who succeeded Clement VII. in October 1534, seemed

at once determined to bring about in reality the promised Council.

And in fact he was quite earnest in the matter. He was not so

indifferent as his predecessor to the real interests of the Church

and the need of certain reforms, and he hoped, like a clever

politician, to turn the Council, which could now no longer be

evaded, to the advantage of the Papacy. With this object, and with a

view in particular of arranging the place where the Council should

be held, which he proposed should be Mantua, he sent a nuncio, the

Cardinal Vergerius, to Germany.

In August 1535 Luther was desired by his Elector to submit an

opinion on the proposals of the Pope. He thought it sufficient to

repeat the answer he had given two years before, namely, that the

prince had then fully expressed his zeal for the restoration of

Church unity by means of a Council, but at the same time had

required that its decisions should be strictly according to God's

Word, and declared that he could not give any definite consent

without his allies. Luther still declined, moreover, to believe that

the project of a Council was sincere.

The university of Wittenberg had been removed during the summer to

Jena, on account of a fresh outbreak of the plague, or at all events

an alarm of it, and there they remained till the following February.

Luther, however, would not listen to the idea of leaving Wittenberg.

This time he could stay there in all rest and cheerfulness with

Bugenhagen, and make merry with the idle fears of others. To the

Elector, who was full of anxiety about him, Luther wrote on July 9,

saying that only one or two cases of the disease had appeared; the

air was not yet poisoned. The dog-days being at hand, and the young

people frightened, they might as well be allowed to walk about, to

calm their thoughts, until it was seen what would happen. He noticed,

however, that some had 'caught ulcers in their pockets, others colic

in their books, and others gout in their papers;' some, too, had no

doubt eaten their mother's letters, and hence got heart-ache and

homesickness. The Christian authorities, he said, must provide some

strong medicine against such a disease, lest mortality might arise

in consequence,--a medicine that would defy Satan, the enemy of all

arts and discipline. He was astonished to find how much more was

known of the great plague at Wittenberg in other parts than in the

town itself, where in truth it did not exist, and how much bigger

and fatter lies grew the farther they travelled. He assured his

friend Jonas, who had gone away with the university, that, thanks

to God, he was living there in solitude, in perfect health and

comfort; only there was a dearth of beer in the town, though he had

enough in his own cellar. Nor did Luther afterwards give way to

fear when compelled to acknowledge several fatal cases of the

plague, and when his own coachman once seemed to be stricken with

it. He himself was a sufferer, throughout the winter, from a cough

and other catarrhic affections. 'But my greatest illness,' he wrote

to a friend, 'is, that the sun has so long shone upon me,--a plague

which, as you know well, is very common, and many die of it.'

The Papal nuncio now arrived at Wittenberg, and desired to speak to

Luther in person. After an interview at Halle with the Archbishop

Albert, he had taken the road through Wittenberg on his way to visit

the Elector of Brandenburg at Berlin. On the afternoon of November

6, a Saturday, he entered Wittenberg in state, with twenty-one

horses and an ass, intending to take up his quarters there for the

night, and was received with all due honour at the Elector's castle

by the governor Metzsch. Luther was invited, at the nuncio's

request, to sup with him that evening, but as the former declined

the invitation, he was asked with Bugenhagen to take breakfast with

him the next morning. It was the first time, since his summons by

Caietan at Augsburg in 1518, that Luther had to speak with a Papal

legate--Luther, who had long since been condemned by the Pope as an

abominable child of corruption, and who in turn had declared the

Pope to be Antichrist. So important must Vergerius have thought it,

to attempt to influence, if even only partially, the powerful

adviser of the Protestant princes, and thereby to prevent him from

check-mating his plans in regard to a Council. And in this respect

Vergerius must have had considerable confidence in himself.

The next morning Luther ordered his barber to come at an unusually

early hour. Upon the latter expressing his surprise, Luther said

jokingly, 'I have to go to the Papal nuncio; if only I look young

when he sees me, he may think "Fie, the devil, if Luther has played

us such tricks before he is an old man, what won't he do when he is

one?"' Then, in his best clothes and with a gold chain round his

neck, he drove to the castle with the town-priest Bugenhagen

(Pomeranus). 'Here go,' he said, as he stepped into the carriage,

'the Pope of Germany and Cardinal Pomeranus, the instruments of

God!'

Before the legate he 'acted,' as he expressed it, 'the complete

Luther.' He employed towards him only the most indispensable forms

of civility, and made use of the most ill-humoured language. Thus he

asked him whether he was looked upon in Italy as a drunken German.

When they came to speak about the settlement of the Church questions

in dispute by a Council, Vergerius reminded him that one individual

fallible man had no right to consider himself wiser than the

Councils, the ancient Fathers, and other theologians of Christendom.

To this Luther replied that the Papists were not really in earnest

about a Council, and, if it were held, they would only care to treat

about such trifles as monks' cowls, priests' tonsures, rules of

diet, and so forth; whereupon the legate turned to one of his

attendants, who was sitting by, with the words 'he has hit the right

nail on the head.' Luther went on to assert that they, the

Evangelicals, had no need of a Council, being already fully assured

about their own doctrine, though other poor souls might need one,

who were led astray by the tyranny of the Popedom. Nevertheless he

promised to attend the proposed Council, even though he should be

burned by it. It was the same to him, he said, whether it was held

at Mantua, Padua, or Florence, or anywhere else. 'Would you come to

Bologna?' said Vergerius. Luther asked, thereupon, to whom Bologna

belonged, and on being told 'to the Pope,' 'Gracious heavens,' he

exclaimed, 'has the Pope seized that town too?--Very well, I will

come to you even there.' Vergerius politely hinted that the Pope

himself, would not refuse to come to Wittenberg. 'Let him come,'

said Luther; 'we shall be very glad to see him.' 'But,' said

Vergerius, 'would you have him come with arms or without?' 'As he

pleases,' replied Luther; 'we shall be ready to receive him in

either way.' When the legate, after their meal, was mounting his

horse to depart, he said to Luther, 'Be sure to hold yourself in

readiness for the Council.' 'Yes, sir,' was the reply, 'with this my

very neck and head.'

Vergerius afterwards related that he had found Luther to be coarse

in conversation, and his Latin bad, and had answered him as far as

possible in monosyllables. The excuse he urged for his interview was

that Luther and Bugenhagen were the only men of learning at

Wittenberg, with whom he could converse in Latin. He evidently felt

himself unpleasantly deceived in the expectations and projects he

had formed before the meeting. Ten years later, when his conflict

with Evangelical doctrine had taught him thoroughly its real meaning

and value, this high dignitary himself became a convert to it.

In the meantime, while the eyes of all were fixed upon the

approaching Council, the state of affairs in Germany was eminently

favourable to the Evangelicals.

The Emperor, during the summer of 1535, was detained abroad by his

operations against the corsair Chaireddin Barbarossa in Tunis, and

Luther rejoiced over the victory with which God blessed his arms.

The King of France was threatening with fresh claims on Italian

territory. The jealousy between Austria and Bavaria still continued.

With regard to the Church, King Ferdinand learned to value

Lutheranism at any rate as a barrier against the progress of the

more dangerous doctrines of Zwingli. John Frederick journeyed in

November 1535 to Vienna, to receive from him at length, in the name

of the Emperor, the investiture of the Electorship, and met with a

friendly reception.

Under these circumstances the Schmalkaldic League resolved, at a

convention at Schmalkald in December 1535, to invite other States of

the Empire, which were not yet recognised in the Religious Peace as

members of the Augsburg Confession, to join them. The Dukes Barnim

and Philip of Pomerania had now accepted this Confession. Philip

also married a sister of John Frederick. Luther performed the

marriage service on the evening of February 27 at Torgau, and

Bugenhagen pronounced, the next morning, the customary benediction

on the young couple, Luther being prevented from doing so by a fresh

attack of giddiness. The following spring a convention of the allies

at Frankfort-on-the-Main received the Duke of Würtemberg, the Dukes

of Pomerania, the princes of Anhalt, and several towns into their

league.

Outside Germany, the Kings of France and England sought fellowship

with the allies. Ecclesiastical and religious questions, of course,

had first to be considered; and Luther with others was called on for

his advice.

King Francis, so many of whose Evangelical subjects were complaining

of oppression and persecution, was anxious, as he was now meditating

a new campaign in Italy, to secure an alliance with the German

Protestants against the Emperor, and accordingly pretended with

great solicitude that he had in view important reforms in the

Church, and would be glad of their assistance. They were invited to

send Melancthon and Luther to him for that purpose. With these he

negotiated also in person. Melancthon felt himself much attracted by

the prospect thus opened to him of rendering important and useful

service. The Elector, however, refused him permission to go, and

rebuked him for having already entangled himself so far in the

affair. Melancthon's expectations were certainly very vain: the King

only cared for his political interests, and in no case would he

grant to any of his subjects the right to entertain or act upon

religious convictions which ran counter to his own theory of the

Church. Moreover, John Frederick's relations with King Ferdinand had

by this time become so peaceful, that the Elector was anxious not to

disturb them by an alliance with the enemy of the Emperor.

Melancthon, however, was much excited by his refusal and reproof; he

suspected that others had maliciously intrigued against him with his

prince. Luther, at first moved by Melancthon's wish and the

entreaties of French Evangelicals, had earnestly begged the Elector

to permit Melancthon 'in the name of God to go to France.' 'Who

knows,' he said, 'what God may wish to do?' He was afterwards

startled on his friend's account by the severe letter of the

Elector, but was obliged to acknowledge that the latter was right in

his distrust of the affair.

An alliance with England would have promised greater security,

inasmuch as with Henry VIII. there was no longer any fear of his

return to the Papacy, and with regard to the proceedings about his

marriage, a reconciliation with the Emperor was scarcely to be

expected. Envoys from him appeared in 1535 in Saxony and at the

meeting at Schmalkald. Henry also wished for Melancthon, in order to

discuss with him matters of orthodoxy and Church government, and

Luther again begged permission of the Elector for him to go. But it

was clearly seen from the negotiations conducted with the English

envoys in Germany, how slender were the hopes of effecting any

agreement with Henry VIII. on the chief points, such as the doctrine

of Justification or of the mass, since the English monarch insisted

every whit as strictly upon that Catholic orthodoxy, to which he

still adhered, as he did upon his opposition to Papal power. Luther

had already in January grown sick to loathing of the futile

negotiations with England: 'professing themselves to be wise, they

became fools' (Rom. i. 22). He advised therefore, in his opinion

submitted to the Elector, that they should have patience with

respect to England and the proper reforms in that quarter, but

guarded himself against deviating on that account from the

fundamental doctrines of belief, or conceding more to the King of

England than they would to the Emperor and the Pope. As to

contracting a political alliance with Henry, he left that question,

as a temporal matter, for the prince and his advisers to decide; but

it seemed to him dangerous, where no real sympathy prevailed. How

hazardous it was to have anything to do with Henry VIII. was shown

immediately after by his conduct towards his second wife Anna

Boleyn, whom he had executed on May 19, 1536. Luther called this act

a monstrous tragedy.

Among the German Protestants, however, the negotiations respecting

the Sacramental doctrine were happily brought to maturity in a duly

formulated 'Concord.' Peace also was secured with the Swiss, and

therewith the possibility of an eventual alliance.

Now that Luther had once felt confidence in these attempts at union,

he took the work in hand himself and proceeded steadily with it. In

the autumn of 1535 he sent letters to a number of South German

towns, addressed to preachers and magistrates--to Augsburg,

Strasburg, Ulm, and Esslingen. He proposed a meeting or conference,

at which they might learn to know each other better, and see what

was to be borne with, what complied with, and what winked at. He

wished nothing more ardently than to be permitted to end his life,

now near its close, in peace, charity, and unity of spirit with his

brethren in the faith. They also should 'continue thus, helping,

praying, and striving that such unity might be firm and lasting, and

that the devil's jaws might be stopped, who had gloried hugely in

their want of unity, crying out "Ha! ha! I have won."' These letters

plainly show how glad was Luther now to see the good cause so

advanced, and to be able to further it yet more. Both in them and in

his correspondence with the Elector about the proposed meeting, he

advised not to enlist too many associates, that there might be no

restless, obstinate heads among them, to spoil the affair. He knew

of such among his own adherents--men who went too far for him in the

zeal of dogma.

The conference was appointed to be held at Eisenach in the following

spring, on May 14, the fourth Sunday after Easter. Luther's state of

health would not permit him to undertake a journey to any distant

place or in the winter. Just at this time, moreover, in March 1536,

he had been tormented for weeks by a new malady, an intolerable pain

in the left hip. Later on, he told one of his friends that he had

with Christ risen from the dead at Easter (April 16), for he had

been so ill at that time, that he firmly believed that his time had

come to depart and be with Christ, for which he longed.

The South Germans readily accepted the invitation. The Strasburgers

passed it on to the Swiss, and specially desired that Bullinger from

Zurich might take part in the conference. The Swiss, however, who

had received no direct invitation from Wittenberg, declined the

proposal; they wished to adhere simply to their own articles of

faith, which they had just formulated anew in the so-called 'First

Helvetian Confession,' and which had expressly acknowledged at least

a spiritual nutriment to be offered in the Sacramental symbols. They

could not see anything to be gained by personal discussion. But they

requested that their Confession might be kindly shown to Luther, and

Bullinger sent him special greetings from himself and the

Evangelical Churches of Switzerland. The preachers who were sent as

deputies to Eisenach from the various South German towns, journeyed

by way of Frankfort-on-the-Main, where just then the Schmalkaldic

allies were assembled. On May 10 they went on, eleven in number, to

Eisenach; they represented the communities of Strasburg, Augsburg,

Memmingen, Ulm, Esslingen, Reutlingen, Furfeld, and Frankfort.

At the last moment the whole success, nay even the very plan of the

conference, was imperilled. Melancthon had already been anxious and

despondent, fearing a fresh and violent outburst of the controversy

as a consequence of the impending discussion. Luther had just been

freshly excited against the Zwinglians by a writing found among the

papers Zwingli left behind him, and which Bullinger had published

with high eulogiums upon the author, and also by a correspondence

that had just appeared between Zwingli and Oecolampadius. Butzer,

however, and his friends still wished to maintain their intimacy

with these Zwinglians, and this correspondence was prefaced by an

introduction 'from his own pen. Furthermore, letters had reached

Luther, representing that the people in the South German towns were

not really taught the true Bodily Presence in the Sacrament. In

addition to this, severe after-effects of his old illness again

attacked him, rendering him unfit to travel to Eisenach.

Accordingly, on May 12 he wrote to the deputies begging them to

journey as far as Grimma, where he would either appear in person,

or, if too weak, could at all events more easily communicate by

writing to them and his friends.

The deputies, however, came straight to him at Wittenberg. In

Thuringia they were joined by the pastors Menius of Eisenach and

Myconius of Gotha, two of Luther's friends who with him were

honestly desirous of unity. The constant personal intercourse kept

up during the journey served greatly to promote a mutual

understanding.

Thus on Sunday, May 21, they arrived at length at Wittenberg.

The next day, the two Strasburgers, Capito and Butzer, held a

preliminary interview with Luther, whose physical weakness made any

lengthy negotiations very difficult. He expressed to them candidly

and emphatically his desire, repeated again and again, that they

should declare themselves at one with him. He would rather, however,

leave matters as they had been, than enter into a union which might

be only feigned or artificial, and must make bad worse. With regard

to the Zwinglian publications, Butzer answered that he and his

friends were in no way responsible for them, and that the preface,

which consisted of a letter from himself, had been printed without

his knowledge and consent. With regard to the doctrine of the

Sacrament, the only question now left to decide was whether the

unworthy and godless communicants verily partook of the Lord's Body.

Luther maintained that they did: it was to him the necessary

consequence of a Bodily Presence, such as took place simply by

virtue of the institution and sure promise of Christ, by which faith

must abide in full trust and belief. Butzer expressed his decided

assent to the doctrine of objective Presence and presentation; but

the actual reception of the Lord's Body, as offered from above, he

could only concede to those communicants who, at least through some

faith, placed themselves in an inward spiritual relation to that

Body and accepted the institution of Christ, not to those who were

simply there with their bodies and bodily mouths. To enable one to

speak of a partaking of the Body, he was satisfied with that faith

which was not exactly the right faith of the heart, and was

connected with moral unworthiness, so that such guests ate to their

own condemnation. He thus acknowledged that the unworthy, but not

the man wholly devoid of faith, could partake of the Body and Blood

of Christ. Luther, therefore, could feel assured that Butzer agreed

with him in rejecting every view which held that, in the Sacrament,

the Body of Christ was present only in the subjective representation

and the imagination, or that faith there rose up out of itself, so

to speak, to the Lord, instead of merely grasping at what was

offered, and thereby being quickened and made strong. But it is

unmistakable, that Luther and Butzer conceived in different ways

both the manner of the Presence and the manner of partaking,--each

of these, indeed, in a mysterious sense and one very difficult to be

defined. Luther could scarcely have failed to observe the

difference, which still remained between them, and the defect from

which, according to his own convictions, the doctrine of the South

Germans still suffered. The question was, whether he could look

beyond this, and whether in the doctrine for which he had fought so

keenly, he should be able and willing to distinguish between what

was essential on the one hand, and what was non-essential or less

essential on the other.

On the Tuesday all the deputies assembled at his house, together

with his Wittenberg friends, and Menius and Myconius. Butzer having

spoken on the deputies' behalf, Luther conferred with them

separately, and after they had declared their unanimous concurrence

with Butzer, he withdrew with his friends into another room for a

private consultation. On his return, he declared, on behalf of

himself and his friends, that, after having heard from all present

their answers and statement of belief, they were agreed with them,

and welcomed them as beloved brethren in the Lord. As to the

objection they had about the godless partakers, if they confessed

that the unworthy received with the other communicants the Body of

Christ, they would not quarrel on that point. Luther, so Myconius

tells us, spoke these words with great spirit and animation, as was

apparent from his eyes and his whole countenance. Capito and Butzer

could not refrain from tears. All stood with folded hands and gave

thanks to God.

On the following days other points were discussed, such as the

significance of infant baptism, and the practice of confession and

absolution, as to which an understanding was necessary, and was

arrived at without any difficulty. The South Germans had also to be

reassured about some individual forms of worship, unimportant in

themselves, and which they found to have been retained from Catholic

usage in the Saxon churches.

On the Thursday the proceedings were interrupted by the festival of

the Ascension. Luther preached the evening sermon of that day on the

text, 'Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every

creature.' Myconius relates of this sermon, 'I have often heard

Luther before, but it seemed to me then as if not he alone were

speaking, but heaven was thundering in the name of Christ.'

On Saturday Butzer and Capito delivered themselves of their

commissions on behalf of the Swiss. Luther declared after reading

the Confession which they brought, that certain expressions in it

were objectionable, but added a wish that the Strasburgers would

treat with them further the subject, and the latter led him to hope

that the communities in Switzerland, weary of dispute, desired

unity.

The spirit of brotherly union received a touching and beautiful

expression on the Sunday in the common celebration of the Sacrament,

and in sermons preached by Alber of Reutlingen in the early morning,

and by Butzer in the middle of the day.

The next morning, May 29, the meeting concluded with the signing of

the articles which Melancthon had been commissioned to draw up. They

recognised the receiving of Christ's Body at the Sacrament by those

who 'ate unworthily,' without saying anything about the faithless.

The deputies who signed their names declared their common acceptance

of the Augsburg Confession and the Apology. This formula, however,

was only to be published after it had received the assent of the

communities whom it concerned, together with their pastors and civil

authorities. 'We must be careful,' said Luther, 'not to raise the

song of victory prematurely, nor give others an occasion for

complaining that the matter was settled without their knowledge and

in a corner.' Luther himself began on the same Monday to write

letters, inviting assent from different quarters to their

proceedings. Among his own associates, at any rate, his intimate

friend Amsdorf at Magdeburg had not been so conciliatory as himself:

Luther waited eight days before informing him of the result of the

conference.

Thus, then, unity of confession was established for the German

Protestants, apart from the Swiss, for none of the Churches which

had been represented at the meeting refused their assent. Luther now

advanced a step towards the Swiss by writing to the burgomaster

Meyer at Basle, who was particularly anxious for union, and who

returned him a very friendly and hopeful answer. Butzer sought to

work with them further in the same direction. But they could not

reconcile themselves to the Wittenberg articles. They--that is to

say, the magistrates and clergy of Zurich, Berne, Basle, and some

other towns--were content to express their joy at Luther's present

friendly state of mind, together with a hope of future unity, and

besought Butzer to inform Luther further about their own Confession

and their objections to his own. Butzer was anxious to do this at a

convention which the Schmalkaldic allies appointed to meet at

Schmalkald, in view of the Council having been announced to be held

in February 1537.

CHAPTER III.

NEGOTIATIONS RESPECTING A COUNCIL AND UNION AMONG THE PROTESTANTS

(continuation):--MEETING AT SCHMALKALD, 1537.--PEACE WITH THE

SWISS.--LUTHER'S FEIENDSHIP WITH THE BOHEMIAN BRETHREN.

A few days after the Protestants had effected an agreement at

Wittenberg the announcement was issued from Rome of a Council, to be

held at Mantua in the following year. The Pope already indicated

with sufficient clearness the action he intended to take at it. He

declared in plain terms that the Council was to extirpate the

Lutheran pestilence, and did not even wish that the corrupt Lutheran

books should be laid before it, but only extracts from them, and

these with a Catholic refutation. Luther, therefore, had now to turn

his energies at once in this direction.

He agreed, nevertheless, with Melancthon that the invitation should

be accepted, although the Elector John Frederick was opposed to such

a Council from the very first. It would be better, Luther thought,

to protest at the Council itself against any unlawful or unjust

proceeding. He hoped to be able to speak before the assembly at

least like a Christian and a man.

The Elector thereupon commissioned him to compile and set forth the

propositions or articles of faith, which, according to his

conviction, it would be necessary to insist on at the Council, and

directed him to call in for this purpose other theologians to his

assistance. Luther accordingly drew up a statement. A few days after

Christmas he laid it before his Wittenberg colleagues, and likewise

before Amsdorf of Magdeburg, Spalatin of Altenburg, and Agricola of

Eisleben. The last named was endeavouring to exchange his post at

the high school at Eisleben, under the Count of Mansfeld, with whom

he had fallen out, for a professor's chair at Wittenberg, which had

been promised him by the Elector; and now, on receiving his

invitation to the conference, he left Eisleben for good without

permission, taking his wife and child with him. Luther welcomed him

as an old friend and invited him to his house as a guest. Luther's

statement was unanimously approved, and sent to the Elector on

January 3.

Even in this summary of belief, intended as it was for common

acceptance and for submission to a Council, Luther emphasised, with

all the fulness and keenness peculiar to himself throughout the

struggle, his antagonism to Roman Catholic dogma and Churchdom.

Fondly as he clung at that time to reconciliation among the

Protestants, he saw no possibility of peace with Rome.

As the first and main article he declared plainly that faith alone

in Jesus could justify a man; on that point they dared not yield,

though heaven and earth should fall. The mass he denounced as the

greatest and most horrible abomination, inasmuch as it was

'downright destructive of the first article,' and as the chiefest of

Papal idolatries; moreover, this dragon's tail had begotten many

other kinds of vermin and abominations of idolatry. With regard to

the Papacy itself, the Augsburg Confession had been content to

condemn it by silence, not having taken any notice of it in its

articles on the essence and nature of the Christian Church. Luther

now would have it acknowledged, 'that the Pope was not by divine

right (_jure divino_) or by warrant of God's Word the head of

all Christendom,' that position belonging to One alone, by name

Jesus Christ; and, furthermore, 'that the Pope was the true

Antichrist, who sets himself up and exalts himself above and against

Christ.' As for the Council, he expected that the Evangelicals there

present would have to stand before the Pope himself and the devil,

who would listen to nothing, but consider simply how to condemn and

kill them. They should, therefore, not kiss the feet of their enemy,

but say to him, 'The Lord rebuke thee, Satan!' (Zach. iii. 2).

The allies accordingly were anxious to consult together and

determine at Schmalkald what conduct to pursue at the Council. An

imperial envoy and a Papal nuncio wished also to attend their

meeting. The princes and representatives of the towns brought their

theologians with them to the number of about forty in all. The

Elector John Frederick brought Luther, Melancthon, Bugenhagen, and

Spalatin.

On January 29 the Wittenberg theologians were summoned by their

prince to Torgau. From thence they travelled slowly by Grimma and

Altenburg, where they were entertained with splendour at the

prince's castles, then by Weimar, where, on Sunday, February 4,

Luther preached a sermon, and so on to the place of meeting. Luther

had left his family and house in the care of his guest Agricola. On

February 7 they arrived at Schmalkald.

The theologians at first were left unemployed. The members of the

convention only gradually assembled. The envoy of the Emperor came

on the 14th. Luther made up his mind for a stay there of four weeks.

He preached on the 9th in the town church before the prince himself.

The church he found, as he wrote to Jonas, so large and lofty, that

his voice sounded to him like that of a mouse. During the first few

days he enjoyed the leisure and rejoiced in the healthy air and

situation of the place.

He was already suffering, however, from the stone, which had once

before attacked him. A medical friend ascribed it partly to the

dampness of the inns and the sheets he slept in. However, the attack

passed off easily this time, and on the 14th he was able to tell

Jonas that he was better. But he grew very tired of the idle time at

Schmalkald. He said jokingly about the good entertainment there,

that he and his friends were living with the Landgrave Philip and

the Duke of Würtemberg like beggars, who had the best bakers, ate

bread and drank wine with the Nürembergers, and received their meat

and fish from the Elector's court. They had the best trout in the

world, but they were cooked in a sauce with the other fish; and so

on.

The Elector soon applied to him for an opinion as to taking part in

the Council, which Luther again recommended should not be bluntly

refused. A refusal, he said, would exactly please the Pope, who

wished for nothing so much as obstacles to the Council; it was for

this reason that, in speaking of the extirpation of heresy, he held

up the Evangelicals as a 'bugbear,' in order to frighten them from

the project. Good people might likewise object, on the ground that

the troubles with the Turks and the Emperor's engagement in the war

with France, were made use of by the Evangelicals to refuse the

Council, whilst in reality the knaves at Borne were reckoning on the

Turkish and French wars to prevent the Council from coming to pass.

Luther now received through Butzer the communications from

Switzerland, together with a letter from Meyer, the burgomaster of

Basle. To the latter he sent on the 17th of the month a cheerful and

friendly reply. He did not wish to induce him to make any further

explanations and promises, but his whole mind was bent upon mutual

forgiveness, and bearing with one another in patience and

gentleness. In this spirit he earnestly entreated Meyer to work with

him. 'Will you faithfully exhort your people,' he said, 'that they

may all help to quiet, soften, and promote the matter to the best of

their power, that they may not scare the birds at roost.' He

promised also, for his part, 'to do his utmost in the same

direction.'

This same day, however, Luther's malady returned; he concluded his

letter with the words, 'I cannot write now all I would, for I have

been a useless man all day, owing to this painful stone.' The next

day, Sunday, when he preached a powerful sermon before a large

congregation, the malady became much worse, and a week followed of

violent pain, during which his body swelled, he was constantly sick,

and his weakness generally increased. Several doctors, including one

called in from Erfurt, did their utmost to relieve him. 'They gave

me physic,' he said afterwards, 'as if I were a great ox.'

Mechanical contrivances were employed, but without effect.' I was

obliged,' he said, 'to obey them, that it might not look as if I

neglected my body.'

His condition appeared desperate. With death before his eyes, he

thought of his arch-enemy the Pope, who might triumph over this, but

over whom he felt certain of victory even in death. 'Behold,' he

cried to God, 'I die an enemy of Thy enemies, cursed and banned by

Thy foe, the Pope. May he, too, die under Thy ban, and both of us

stand at Thy judgment bar on that day.' The Elector, deeply moved,

stood by his bed, and expressed his anxiety lest God might take away

with Luther His beloved Word. Luther comforted him by saying that

there were many faithful men who, by God's help, would become a wall

of strength; nevertheless, he could not conceal from the prince his

apprehension that, after he was gone, discord would arise even among

his colleagues at Wittenberg. The Elector promised him to care for

his wife and children as his own. Luther's natural love for them, as

he afterwards remarked, made the prospect of parting very hard for

him to bear. To his sorrowing friends he still was able to be

humorous. When Melancthon, on seeing him, began to cry bitterly, he

reminded him of a saying of their friend, the hereditary marshal,

Hans Löser, that to drink good beer was no art, but to drink sour

beer, and then continued, in the words of Job, 'What, shall we

receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil?' And

again: 'The wicked Jews,' he said, 'stoned Stephen; my stone, the

villain! is stoning me.' But not for an instant did he lose his

trust in God and resignation to His will. When afraid of going mad

with the pain, he comforted himself with the thought that Christ was

his wisdom, and that God's wisdom remained immutable. Seeing, as he

did, the devil at work in his torture, he felt confident that even

if the devil tore him to pieces Christ would revenge His servant,

and God would tear the devil to pieces in return. Only one thing he

would fain have prayed his God to grant--that he might die in the

country of his Elector; but he was willing and ready to depart

whenever God might summon him. Upon being seized with a fit of

vomiting he sighed, 'Alas, dear Father, take the little soul into

Thy hand; I will be grateful to Thee for it. Go hence, thou dear

little soul, go, in God's name!'

At length an attempt was actually made to remove him to Gotha, the

necessary medical appliances being not procurable at Schmalkald. On

the 26th of the month the Erfurt physician, Sturz, drove him

thither, together with Bugenhagen, Spalatin, and Myconius, in one of

the Elector's carriages. Another carriage followed them, with

instruments and a pan of charcoal, for warming cloths. On driving

off, Luther said to his friends about him,' The Lord fill you with

His blessing, and with hatred of the Pope.'

The first day they could not venture farther than Tambach, a few

miles distant, the road over the mountains being very rough. The

jolting of the carriage caused him intolerable torture. But it

effected what the doctors could not. The following night the pain

was terminated, and the feeling of relief and recovery made him full

of joy and thankfulness. A messenger was sent at once, at two

o'clock in the morning, with the news to Schmalkald, and Luther

himself wrote a letter to his 'dearly-loved' Melancthon. To his wife

he wrote saying, 'I have been a dead man, and had commended you and

the little ones to God and to our good Lord Jesus.... I grieved very

much for your sakes.' But God, he went on to say, had worked a

miracle with him; he felt like one newly-born; she must thank God,

therefore, and let the little ones thank their heavenly Father,

without whom they would assuredly have lost their earthly one.

But on the 28th already, after his safe arrival at Gotha, he

suffered so severe a relapse that during that night he thought, from

his extreme weakness, that his end was near. He then gave to

Bugenhagen some last directions, which the latter afterwards

committed to writing, as the 'Confession and Last Testament of the

Venerable Father.' Herein Luther expressed his cheerful conviction

that he had done rightly in attacking the Papacy with the Word of

God. He begged his 'dearest Philip' (Melancthon) and other

colleagues to forgive anything in which he might have offended them.

To his faithful Kate he sent words of thanks and comfort, saying

that now for the twelve years of happiness which they had spent

together, she must accept this sorrow. Once more he sent greetings

to the preachers and burghers of Wittenberg. He begged his Elector

and the Landgrave not to be disturbed by the charges made against

them by the Papists of having robbed the property of the Church, and

recommended them to trust to God in their labours on behalf of the

gospel.

The next morning, however, he was again better and stronger. Butzer,

who in regard to unity of confession and his relations with the

Swiss had not been able to have any further conversation with Luther

at Schmalkald, had at once, on receiving the good news from Tambach,

gone straight to Luther at Gotha, accompanied by the preacher

Wolfhart from Augsburg. Luther, notwithstanding his suffering, now

discussed with them this matter, so important in his eyes. As an

honest man, to whom nothing was so distasteful as 'dissimulation,'

he earnestly warned them against all 'crooked ways.' The Swiss, in

case he died, should be referred to his letter to Meyer; should God

allow him to live and become strong, he would send them a written

statement himself.

While, however, he was still at Gotha, the crisis of his illness

passed, and he was relieved entirely of the cause of his suffering.

The journey was continued cautiously and slowly, and a good halt was

made at Weimar. From Wittenberg there came to nurse him a niece, who

lived in his house: probably Lene Kaufmann, the daughter of his

sister. To his wife he wrote from Tambach, telling her that she need

not accept the Elector's offer to drive her to him, it being now

unnecessary. On March 14 he arrived again at his home. His recovery

had made good progress, though, as he wrote to Spalatin, even eight

days afterwards his legs could hardly support him.

Meanwhile the conference of the allies at Schmalkald resulted in

their deciding to decline the Papal invitation to the Council. They

informed the Emperor, in reply, that the Council which the Pope had

in view was something very different to the one so long demanded by

the German Diets; what they wanted was a free Council, and one on

German, not Italian territory.

With regard to Luther's articles, which he had drawn up in view of a

Council, they saw no occasion to occupy themselves with their

consideration. To their official Confession of Augsburg, which had

formed among other things the groundwork and charter of the

Religious Peace, and to the Apology, drawn up by Melancthon in reply

to the Catholic 'Refutation,' they desired, however, now to add a

protest against the authority and the Divine right of the Papacy.

Melancthon prepared it in the true spirit of Luther, though in a

calmer and more moderate tone than was usual with his friend. The

majority of the theologians present at Schmalkald testified their

assent to Luther's articles by subscribing their names. Luther had

his statement printed the following year. The Emperor, on account of

the war with the Turks and the renewal of hostilities with France,

had no time to think of compelling the allies to take part in a

Council, and was quite content that no Council should be held at

all. Whether the Pope himself, as Luther supposed, counted secretly

on this result, and was glad to see it happen, may remain a matter

of uncertainty.

At Schmalkald the seal was now set upon the Concord, which had been

concluded the previous year at Wittenberg, and then submitted for

ratification to the different German princes and towns, the formula

there adopted being now signed by all the theologians present, and

the agreement of the princes to abide by it being duly announced.

Towards the Swiss, who declined to waive their objections to the

Wittenberg articles, Luther maintained firmly the standpoint

indicated in his letter to Meyer. Thus, in the following December he

wrote himself to those evangelical centres in Switzerland from which

Butzer had brought him the communication to Gotha; while the next

year, in May 1538, he sent a friendly reply to a message from

Bullinger, and again in June he wrote once more to the Swiss, on

receiving an answer from them to his first letter. His constant wish

and entreaty was that they should at least be friendly to, and

expect the best of one another, until the troubled waters were

calmed. He fully acknowledged that the Swiss were a very pious

people, who earnestly wished to do what was right and proper. He

rejoiced at this, and hoped that God, even if only a hedge

obstructed, would help in time to remove all errors. But he could

not ignore or disregard that on which no agreement had yet been

arrived at; and he was right in supposing, and said so openly to the

Swiss, that upon their side, as well as upon his own, there were

many who looked upon unity not only with displeasure but even with

suspicion. He himself had constantly to explain misinterpretations

of his doctrine, and he did so with composure. He had never, he

said, taught that Christ, in order to be present at the Sacrament,

comes down from heaven; but he left to Divine omnipotence the manner

in which His Body is verily given to the guests at His table. But he

must guard himself, on the other hand, against the notion that, with

the attitude he now adopted, he had renounced his former doctrine.

And with this doctrine he held firmly to the conception of a

Presence of Christ's Body in the Sacrament different to and apart

from that Presence for purely spiritual nourishment on which the

Swiss now insisted. When Bullinger expressed his surprise that he

should still talk of a difference in doctrine, he gave up offering

any more explanations on the subject; and the Swiss, for their part,

after his second letter, made no further attempt to effect a more

perfect agreement. Luther's desire was to keep on terms of peace and

friendship with them, notwithstanding the difference still

notoriously existing between both parties. On this very account he

was loth to rake up the difference again by further explanations. By

acting thus he believed he should best promote an ultimate

understanding and unity, which was still the object of his hopes.

So far, therefore, during the years immediately following the death

of Zwingli, success had attended the efforts to heal the fatal

division which separated from Luther and the great Lutheran

community those of evangelical sympathies in Switzerland and the

South Germans, who were more or less subject to their influence, and

which had excited the minds on both sides with such violence and

passion. So far Luther himself had laboured to promote this result

with uprightness and zeal; he had conquered much suspicion once

directed against himself, he had sought means of peace; he had

restrained the disturbing zeal of his own friends and followers,

such as Amsdorf or Osiander at Nüremberg.

We must not omit finally to mention, as an important event of these

years and a testimony to Luther's disposition and sentiments, the

friendly relations now formed between himself and the so-called

Bohemian and Moravian Brethren. We have already had occasion to

notice, after the Leipzig disputation in 1519, and again, in

particular, after Luther's return from the Wartburg, an approach,

which promised much but was only transitory, between Luther and the

large and powerful brotherhood of the Bohemian Utraquists, who, as

admirers of Huss and advocates for giving the cup to the laity, had

freed themselves from the dominion of Rome. Quietly and modestly,

but with a far more penetrating endeavour to restore the purity of

Christian life, the small communities of the Moravian Brethren had

multiplied by the side of the Hussites, and had patiently endured

oppression and persecution. Luther afterwards declared of them, how

he had found to his astonishment--a thing unheard of under the

Papacy--that, discarding the doctrines of men, they meditated day

and night, to the best of their ability, on the laws of God, and

were well versed in the Scriptures. It was principally, however, as

Luther himself seems to indicate, the commands of Scripture, in the

strict and faithful fulfilment of which they sought for true

Christianity--with special reference to the commands of Jesus, as

expressed by Him in particular in the Sermon on the Mount, and to

those precepts which they found in their patterns, the oldest

Apostolic communities--that engrossed their attention. With strict

discipline, in conformity with these commands, they sought to order

and sanctify their congregational life. But of Luther's doctrine of

salvation, announced by him mainly on the testimony of St. Paul, or

of the doctrine of justification by faith alone, they had as yet no

knowledge. They taught of the righteousness to which Christians

should attain, as did Augustine and the pious, practical theologians

of the middle ages. Hence they were wanting also in freedom in their

conception of moral life, and of those worldly duties and blessings

to which, according to Luther, the Christian spirit rose by the

power of faith. They shunned rather all worldly business in a manner

that caused Luther to ascribe to them a certain monastic character.

Their priests lived, like Catholics, in celibacy. Another

peculiarity of their teaching was, that in striving after a more

spiritual conception of life, and under the influence of the

writings of the great Englishman Wicliffe, which were largely

disseminated among them, they repudiated the Catholic doctrine of

Transubstantiation, nor would even allow such a Presence of Christ's

Body as was insisted on by Luther. They maintained simply a

sacramental, spiritual, effectual presence of Christ, and

distinguished from it a substantial Presence, which His Body, they

declared, had in heaven alone.

With these, too, as with the Utraquists, Luther became more closely

acquainted soon after his return from the Wartburg. The evangelical

preacher, Paul Speratus, who was then temporarily working in

Moravia, wrote to him about these zealous friends of the gospel,

among whom, however, he found much that was objectionable,

especially their doctrine of the Sacrament. They themselves sent

Luther messages, letters, and writings. Luther, who, in addition to

the Catholic theory, had also to combat doubts as to the Real

Presence of Christ's Body at the Sacrament, turned in 1523, in a

treatise 'On the Adoration of the Sacrament, &c.,' to oppose the

declarations of the Brethren on this subject, and then proceeded to

draw their attention to other points on which he was unable to agree

with them, in the mildest form and with warm acknowledgments of

their good qualities, such as, in particular, their strict

requirements of Christian moral conduct, which in his own circle he

could not possibly expect to see as yet fulfilled. They and Lucas,

their elder, however, took umbrage at his remarks; Lucas published a

reply, whereupon Luther quietly left them to go their own way.

While Butzer now was prosecuting with success his attempts at union,

the Brethren renewed their overtures to Luther. They offered him

fresh explanations about the doctrines in dispute, and these

explanations he was content to treat as consistent with the truth

which he himself maintained, though they differed even from his own

actual statements, not only in form but in substance. For example,

they distinguished between the Presence of Christ's Body in the

Sacrament and His existence in heaven, by describing only the latter

as a Bodily existence. Practically, the theory of the Brethren,

which, however, was by no means clearly defined, agreed most with

that represented afterwards by Calvin. But Luther saw in it nothing

more that was essential, such as would necessitate further

controversy, or deter him from friendly intercourse with these

pious-minded people. At their desire he published two of their

statements of belief in 1533 and 1538 with prefaces from his own

pen. In these prefaces he dwelt particularly on the striking

differences, as regards Church usages and regulations, between their

congregations and his own. But these differences, he said, ought in

no way to prevent their fellowship; a difference of usages had

always existed among Christian Churches, and with the difference of

times and circumstances, was unavoidable. Nor did he withhold a

certain sanction and approbation of the dignity with which the

Brethren continued to invest the state of celibacy, while refusing,

however, to give that sanction the force of a law.

Among the Brethren their gifted and energetic elder John Augusta

laboured to promote an alliance with Luther and the German

Reformation. He repeatedly appeared (and again in 1540) in person at

Wittenberg.

Thus on all sides, wherever the Evangelical word prevailed, Luther

saw the bonds of union being firmly tied.

CHAPTER IV.

OTHER LABOURS AND TRANSACTIONS, 1535-39.--ARCHBISHOP ALBERT AND

SCHÖNITZ.--AGRICOLA.

Amidst these important and general affairs of the Church, bringing

daily fresh labours and fresh anxieties for Luther--labours,

however, which, in spite of his bodily sufferings, he undertook with

his old accustomed energy--his strength, as in previous years we

have observed with reference to his preaching, now no longer

sufficed as before for the regular work of his calling. In his

official duties at the university the Elector himself, anxiously

concerned as he was for its progress, would have spared him as much

as possible. For these he arranged, in 1536, an ample stipend. In

his announcement of this step he solemnly declared: 'The merciful

God has plenteously and graciously vouchsafed to let His holy,

redeeming Word, through the teaching of the reverend and most

learned, our beloved and good Martin Luther, doctor of Holy

Scripture, be made known to all men in these latter days of the

world with true Christian understanding, for their comfort and

salvation, for which we give Him praise and thanks for ever; and has

made known also, in addition to other arts, the Latin, Greek, and

Hebrew languages, through the conspicuous and rare ability and

industry of the learned Philip Melancthon, for the furtherance of

the right and Christian comprehension of Holy Scripture.' To each of

these two men he now gave a hundred gulden as an addition to his

salary as professor, which in Luther's case had hitherto amounted to

two hundred gulden. At the same time he released Luther from the

obligation of lecturing, and, indeed, from all his other duties at

the university.

Luther began, however, this year a new and important course of

lectures--the exposition of the Book of Genesis, which, according to

his wont, he illustrated with a copious and valuable commentary on

the chief points of Christian doctrine and Christian life. They

progressed, however, but slowly and with many interruptions;

sometimes a whole year was occupied with only a few chapters. The

work was not completed until 1545. They were the last lectures he

delivered.

In the office of preacher, which he continued to fill voluntarily

and without emolument, he undertook again, after he had returned

from Schmalkald, and had gained fresh strength and, at least, a

temporary recovery from his recent illness, labours at once beyond

and more arduous than his ordinary duties. He resumed, in short, the

duties of Bugenhagen, who was given leave of absence till 1539 to

visit Denmark, for the purpose of organising there, under the new

king Christian III., the new Evangelical Church. He preached

regularly on week-days, in addition to his Sunday sermons;

continuing his discourses, as Bugenhagen had done, though with many

interruptions, on the Gospels of St. Matthew and St. John. The

chancellor Brück wrote to the Elector from Wittenberg on August 27:

'Doctor Martin preaches in the parish church thrice a week; and such

mightily good sermons are they, that it seems to me, as everyone is

saying, there has never been such powerful preaching here before. He

points out in particular the errors of the Popedom, and multitudes

come to hear him. He closes his sermons with a prayer against the

Pope, his Cardinals and Bishops, and for our Emperor, that God may

give him victory and deliver him from the Popedom.'

Among his literary labours he again took in hand in 1539 his German

translation of the Bible--the most important work, in its way, of

all his life--and persevered with intense and unremitting industry,

in order to revise it thoroughly for a new edition, which was

published at the end of two years. For this work he assembled around

him a circle of learned colleagues, whose assistance he succeeded in

obtaining and whom he regularly consulted. These were Melancthon,

Jonas, Bugenhagen, Cruciger, Matthew Aurogallus, professor of

Hebrew, and afterwards the chaplain Rörer, who attended to the

corrections. From outside also some joined them, such as Ziegler,

the Leipzig theologian, a man learned in Hebrew. Luther's younger

friend Mathesius, who had been Luther's guest in 1540, relates of

these meetings how 'Doctor Luther came to them with his old Bible in

Latin and his new one in German, and besides these he had always the

Hebrew text with him. Philip (Melancthon) brought with him the Greek

text, Dr. Kreuziger (Cruciger) besides the Hebrew, the Chaldaic

Bible (the translation or paraphrase in use among the ancient Jews);

the professors had with them their Rabbis (the Rabbinical writings

of the Old Testament). Each one had previously armed himself with a

knowledge of the text, and compared the Greek and Latin with the

Jewish version. The president then propounded a text, and let the

opinions go round;--speeches of wondrous truth and beauty are said

to have been made at these sittings.'

In other respects Luther's literary activity was chiefly devoted to

the great questions remaining to be dealt with at a Council. In

1539, the year after his publication of the Schmalkaldic Articles,

appeared a larger treatise from his pen 'On Councils and Churches,'

one of the most exhaustive of his writings, and important to us as

showing how firmly and confidently his idea of the Christian Church,

as a community of the faithful, was maintained amidst all the

practical difficulties which events prepared. He complains of the

substitution of the blind, unmeaning word 'Church'--and that even in

the Catechism for the young--for the Greek word in the New Testament

'Ecclesia,' as the name of the community or assembly of Christian

people. Much misery, he said, had crept in under that word Church,

from its being understood as consisting of the Pope and the bishops,

priests, and monks. The Christian Church was simply the mass of

pious Christian people, who believed in Christ and were endowed with

the Holy Spirit, Who daily sanctified them by the forgiveness of

sins, and by absolving and purifying them therefrom.

Of Luther's love for his German mother-language, and of the services

he rendered it, so conspicuously shown by these his writings, and

especially by his persevering industry in his translation of the

Bible, we are further reminded by a request he made in a letter of

March 1535, to his friend Wenzeslaus Link at Nüremberg. He suddenly

in that letter breaks off from the Latin--which was still the

customary language of correspondence between theologians--and

continues in German, with the words, 'I will speak German, my dear

Herr Wenzel,' and then begs his friend to make his servant collect

for him all the German pictures, rhymes, books, and ballads that had

recently been published at Nüremberg, as he wished to familiarise

himself more with the genuine language of the people. Luther himself

made a goodly collection of German proverbs. His original manuscript

which contained them was inherited by a German family, but

unfortunately it was bought about twenty years ago in England. There

was published also at Wittenberg, in 1537, a small anonymous book on

German names, written (unquestionably by Luther) in Latin, and

therefore intended for students. It contains, it is true, many

strange mistakes, but it is, nevertheless, a proof of the interest

he took in such studies, and is interesting as a maiden effort in

this field of national learning.

In the regular government and legal administration of his Saxon

Church, Luther did not occupy any post of office. When in 1539 a

Consistory was established at Wittenberg for the Electoral district,

and afterwards, indeed, for the regulation of marriage and

discipline, he did not become a member; he was certainly never

called upon or qualified to take part in the exercise of such a

jurisdiction. And yet this also was done with his concurrence, and

in cases of difficulty he was resorted to for his advice. All Church

questions of public interest continued, with this exception, to

occupy his independent and influential discussion. And even the

moral evils on the domain of civil, municipal and social life, to

which Luther at the beginning of the Reformation appeared desirous

of extending his preaching of reform, so far, at least, as that

preaching represented a general call and exhortation, but which he

afterwards seemed to discard altogether as something foreign to his

mission, never wholly faded from his purview, or ceased to enlist

his active interest. He wrote again in 1539 against usury, much as

he had written at an earlier period, remarking to his friends that

his book would prick the consciences of petty usurers, but that the

big swindlers would only laugh at him in their sleeves. And in

publishing his Schmalkaldic Articles he briefly refers again in his

preface to the 'countless matters of importance' which a genuine

Christian Council would have to mend in the temporal condition of

mankind--such as the disunion of princes and states, the usury and

avarice, which had spread like a deluge and had become the law, and

the sins of unchastity, gluttony, gambling, vanity in dress,

disobedience on the part of subjects, servants, and workmen of all

trades; as also the removal of peasants, &c. Nor at the same time

was he less prompt to interfere on behalf of individuals who were

suffering from want and injustice, either by his humble intercession

with their lords, or with the sharp sword of his denunciation.

It was Luther's indignation and zeal on such an occasion that caused

now his irremediable rupture with the Archbishop, Cardinal Albert,

and induced him to attack that magnate as recklessly as he did; for

the Cardinal had hitherto been always disposed to treat him with a

certain respect; and Luther, on his side, had refrained at least

from any open exhibition of hostility. The immediate cause of this

rupture was a judicial murder, perpetrated against one John Schönitz

(or Schanz) of Halle, on the river Saale. This man had for years had

the charge, as the confidential servant of the Archbishop, of the

public and even the private funds which his master required for his

stately palaces, his luxury, and his sensual enjoyments, refined or

coarse, legitimate or illegitimate; and had actually lent him large

sums. The Estates of the Archbishopric complained of the demands

made on them for money, and rightly suspected that the funds

supplied were improperly and dishonestly misappropriated. Schönitz

grew alarmed on account of the clandestine 'practices' which he was

carrying on for his master. The latter, however, assured him of his

protection. But when the Estates refused to grant any more subsidies

until a proper account was laid before them, he basely sacrificed

his servant in order to extricate himself from his embarrassment.

For deceptions alleged to have been practised against himself, he

had Schönitz arrested, and confined, in September 1534, in the

Castle of Giebichenstein. In vain Schönitz demanded a public trial

by impartial judges; in vain did the Imperial Court of Justice give

judgment in his favour. A second judgment of the court was answered

by Albert's directing the prisoner, who was a citizen of Halle and

sprung from an old local family, to be tried on June 21, 1535, at

Giebichenstein, by a peasant tribunal hastily summoned from the

surrounding villages, for the trial merely, as the rumour ran in

Halle, of a horse-stealer. The unhappy prisoner was allowed no

regular defence, and no counsel. An admission of guilt was extorted

from him by the rack, and he was summarily sentenced to death. Time

was only allowed him to say to the bystanders that he confessed

himself a sinner in the sight of God, but that he had not deserved

this fate. He was quickly strung up on the gallows, where his corpse

remained hanging till the wind blew it down in February 1537. Albert

took possession of his property. And this was done by the supreme

prince of the Roman Church in Germany, who played the part of a

modern Mæcenas with regard to art and science.

Whilst now the justices of the town of Halle were protesting against

this treatment of their fellow-townsman to the Archbishop, who

turned a deaf ear to their remonstrance, and Antony, the brother of

the murdered man, exerted himself in vain to vindicate his honour

and the rights of their family, Luther was drawn into the affair by

the fact that one of his guests, Ludwig Rabe, was threatened with

punishment by Albert, for expressions he let fall soon after the

deed was committed. Luther thereupon wrote several times to Albert

himself, and told him openly he was a murderer, and, for his

squandering of Church property, deserved a gallows ten times higher

than the Castle of Giebichenstein. He was restrained, however, from

taking further steps by the Elector of Brandenburg and other of

Albert's influential relatives, who appealed to John Frederick on

his behalf, whilst Albert sought to make a cheap compensation to the

family of the murdered man, or at least pretended to do so.

When, however, a young Humanist poetaster at Wittenberg, named

Lemnius--properly Lemchen--actually glorified the Archbishop in

verse, or, as Luther put it, 'made a saint of the devil,' and at the

same time vilified some men and women at Wittenberg, Luther read

aloud from the pulpit, in 1538, a short indictment, couched in the

plainest possible terms, against the shameless libeller, as also

against the Archbishop whom he glorified; and this indictment soon

appeared in print. And now he no longer refrained from taking up the

cause of Schönitz in a pamphlet of some length. When the Duke of

Prussia endeavoured once more in a friendly way to dissuade him from

his purpose, for the honour of the house of Brandenburg, he replied,

'Wicked sons have sprung from the noble race of David, and princes

ought not to disgrace themselves by unprincely vices.' In the

pamphlet to his opening he declared that a stone was lying upon his

heart which was called 'Deliver them that are drawn unto death, and

those that are ready to be slain' (Prov. xxiv. 11). He denounced the

contempt and denial of justice of which the Archbishop was guilty,

and at the same time boldly exposed the real objects of those

private expenses which the Archbishop, together with his servant,

had incurred, and of which the latter was naturally unable to give

an account--least of all, those that ministered to his carnal

appetites, such as his establishment at Morizburg in Halle. He

himself, says Luther, does not judge the Cardinal; he is simply the

bearer of the sentence pronounced by the great Judge in heaven. To

those who might perhaps have taken exception to his words he says,

'I sit here at Wittenberg, and ask my most gracious lord the Elector

for no further favour or protection than what is given to all

alike.' Albert found it more prudent to keep silent.

But what disturbed and grieved Luther more than anything else during

this, the closing chapter of his life, was the bitter experience he

had yet to make in his own religious community, nay, amidst his most

intimate companions and friends.

The way of life--in other words, the way of saving faith--was now

rediscovered and clearly brought to light; and, as Luther said, a

truly moral life should be the consequence. And great pains were

taken to stamp this new truth clearly and distinctly on doctrine,

and to guard against new errors and perversions. Differences,

however, now arose among those who had hitherto worked so loyally

together for the establishment of the faith--a beginning of those

doctrinal disputes which after Luther's death became so disastrous

to his Church. Again and again Luther bitterly complained of the

moral wrongs and scandals which proved that the faith, however

widely its confession had spread through Germany, was far from

living in its purity and strength in the hearts of men, and bearing

the expected fruit. Only his own conviction, his own faith was never

shaken by this result. It must needs be, as Christ Himself had said,

that offences must come; and, in the words of St. Paul (1 Cor. xi.

19), 'there must be also heresies,' and false teachers and deceivers

must arise.

[Illustration: Fig. 44.--AGRICOLA. (From a miniature portrait by

Cranach, in the University Album at Wittenberg, 1531.)]

We have seen above how cordially Luther welcomed Agricola back at

Wittenberg after throwing up his appointment at Eisleben. He

obtained for him from the Elector in 1537 an ample salary, to enable

him to fill the long-coveted office of teacher at the university,

and be a preacher as well. It soon became known that Agricola

persisted in maintaining that doctrine of repentance in defence of

which he had attacked Melancthon at the first visitation of churches

in the Saxon Electorate. He had been accused of this at Eisleben,

and Count Albert of Mansfeld, whose service he had quitted with

rudeness and discontent, denounced him as a restless and dangerous

fellow. And now at Wittenberg also Agricola had some sermons

printed, and some theses circulated, embodying a statement of his

peculiar doctrine. Luther considered it his duty to refute these,

and he did so from the pulpit, but without naming their author.

The proclamation of God's law, so Agricola now taught, was no

necessary part of Christianity, as such, nor of the way of salvation

prepared and revealed by Christ. The Gospel of the Son of God, our

Saviour, this alone should be proclaimed, and operate in touching

the hearts of men and exposing the true character of their sins as

sinfulness against the Son of God. In this way he sought to give

full effect to the fundamental evangelical doctrine, that the grace

of God alone had power to save through the joyful message of Christ.

The personal vanity, however, which was the chief weakness of this

gifted, intellectual, and fairly eloquent man, and which was now

increased by the dissatisfaction it had caused at Eisleben,

displayed itself further in the assertion of his eccentricities of

dogma. Moreover, he was far from clear in his first principles, and

while maintaining his tenets he was unwilling to stake too much on

his own account, and yet refused actually to abandon them.

He came at first to an understanding with Luther by offering an

explanation which the latter deemed satisfactory, but he then

proceeded to revert to his peculiar tenets in a new publication.

Luther now launched a sharp reply against these antinomian theses,

as well as against others, which went much further, and whose origin

is unknown. He found wanting in Agricola that earnest moral

appreciation of the law, and of the moral demands made of us by God,

whereby the heart of the sinner, as he himself had experienced, must

first be bruised and broken, and thus opened to receive the word of

grace, before that word can truly renew, revive, and sanctify it.

But together with Agricola's tenets he then placed the others,

betraying an equally frivolous estimate of the real nature of those

demands and of the duties they entailed, as evidence of one tendency

and one character, since Agricola, indeed, taught like them, that

the good willed by God in His Commandments was fulfilled in

Christians by the simple fact of their belief in Christ, and as the

fruit of His word of grace. Thus it came about that this tendency

which Luther found represented in Agricola, stood out before him in

all its compass and with its extremest and most alarming

consequences, and called forth the boldest exercise of his zeal. It

grieved him sorely, nevertheless, to have to enter into this dispute

with his old friend. 'God knows,' he said, 'what trials this

business has prepared for me; I shall have died of sheer anxiety

before I have brought my theses against him (Agricola) to the

light.'

At the instance, however, of the Elector, who valued Agricola,

another reconciliation was brought about. Agricola humbled himself;

he even authorised his great opponent to draw up a retractation in

his name, and Luther did this in a manner very damaging to Agricola,

in a letter to his former colleague and opponent at Eisleben, Caspar

Güttel. Agricola thereupon received a place in the newly-formed

consistory. But even now he could not refrain from fresh utterances

which betrayed his old opinions. Luther's confidence in him was thus

destroyed for ever: he spoke with indignation, pain, and scorn of

'Grikel (Agricola), the false man.' The latter at length complained

to the Elector against Luther for having unjustly aspersed him. The

Elector testified to him his displeasure; Luther gave a sharp answer

to the charge, and his prince made further inquiries into the matter

of complaint. Agricola finally snatched at a means of escape offered

by his summons to Berlin, whither he had been called as a preacher

of distinction by the Elector Joachim II., who was a convert to the

Reformation. In August 1540 he left Wittenberg. He sent thither from

Berlin another and fully satisfactory retractation in order to

retain his official appointment. But Luther's friendship with him

was broken for ever.

In another quarter also Melancthon had been charged with deviating

in certain statements from the path of right doctrine.

We know already how his anxiety about the dangers caused by the

separation from the great Catholic Church seemed to tempt him to

indulge in questionable concessions, and how it was Luther himself,

with a disposition so different to Melancthon's, who nevertheless

held firmly to his trust in his friend and fellow-labourer,

particularly during the Diet of Augsburg. And, indeed, subsequent

events brought this tendency to concession more fully into notice.

Certain peculiarities now asserted themselves in Melancthon's

independent opinions, with regard both to theology and practical

life, which distinguished his mode of teaching from that of Luther.

He who, again and again, in the Augsburg Confession and the Apology,

as also in the system of evangelical theology which in his 'Loci

Communes' he was the first to elaborate, had expounded with full and

active conviction the fundamental evangelical truth of a justifying

and saving Faith, was anxious also--more so, even, than many strict

confessors of that doctrine--to have the whole field of moral

improvement and the fruits of morality which were necessary to

preserve that faith, estimated at their proper value. And further,

with respect to God's will and the operation of His grace, whereby

alone the sinner could obtain inward conversion and faith, he wished

to make this depend entirely on man's own will and choice, so that

the blame might not appear to lie with God if the call to salvation

remained fruitless, and a temptation thereby be offered to many to

indulge in carelessness or despondency. In addition to this, he

differed unmistakably from Luther in his doctrine of the Sacrament.

For, though it was he who at Augsburg in 1530 had flatly rejected

the Zwinglians, still his historical researches impressed him with

the belief, that, in reality, as indeed the Zwinglians maintained,

not Augustine himself, among the ancients, had taught the Real

Bodily Presence after the manner of Luther, or even of Roman

Catholicism; and his own theological opinion induced him at least to

satisfy himself with more or less obscure propositions about the

communion of the Saviour Who died for us with the guests at His

table, without any fixed or clear declarations about the

substantiality of the Body. This appears, for instance, in his 'Loci

Communes,' although in the formula of the Wittenberg Concord of 1536

he went farther, together with Luther.

On the first point above-mentioned, a priest named Cordatus, a

strict adherent of Luther, had raised a protest against him in 1536.

But the opponent whom Melancthon chiefly feared in this respect was

the theologian Amsdorf, who was not only an old familiar friend of

Luther, but the especial guardian, both then and still more after

Luther's death, of Lutheran orthodoxy. But Luther himself was

anxious to avoid, even in this matter, any rupture or discord with

Melancthon. He took great pains to reconcile the difference, and

knew also how to keep silence, though without deviating from his own

strict standpoint, or being able to overlook the peculiarity of his

friend's teaching, conspicuously apparent as it was in the new

edition of his book.

We are reminded by this, moreover, how Luther, during his illness at

Schmalkald in 1537, made no secret of his fear of a division

breaking out at Wittenberg after his death.

CHAPTER V.

LUTHER AND THE PROGRESS AND INTERNAL TROUBLES OF PROTESTANTISM.

1538--1541.

In the great affairs of the Church, amid the threats of his enemies

and in all his dealings with them, Luther continued from day to day

to trust quietly in God, as the Guider of events, Who suffers none

to forestall His designs, and puts to shame and rebuke the

inventions of man. His hope of external peace had hitherto been

fulfilled beyond all expectation. And it had been permitted him to

see the Reformation gain strength and make further progress in the

German Empire. Indeed, it seemed possible that a union might be

effected with those Catholics who had been impressed with the

evangelical doctrine of salvation. These were results accomplished

by the inward power of God's Word, as hitherto preached to the

people, under a Divine and marvellously favourable dispensation of

outer relations and events--fruits as unexpected as they were

gratifying to Luther. Great plans or projects of his own, however,

were still far from his thoughts; nor even did the details of this

historical development demand such activity on his part as he had

shown in the earlier years of the movement. And yet there was no

lack of discord, difficulty, and trouble within the pale of the new

Church and amongst its members; prospects of further, and possibly

much more serious dangers to be encountered; thoughts of sadness and

disquietude to vex the soul of the Reformer, now aged, suffering,

and weary. The goal of his hopes had ever been, and still remained,

not indeed a victory to be gradually achieved for his cause, perhaps

even in his own lifetime, by the course of ecclesiastical and

political changes and events, but the end which the Lord Himself,

according to His promises, would make of the whole wicked world, and

the Hereafter whither he was ever waiting to be summoned.

Since the Schmalkaldic allies had rejected the Emperor with his

invitation to a Council, the Romish zealots might well hope that

Charles at length would prepare to use force against them. He was

not yet able to bring his quarrel with King Francis to a final

termination; but, nevertheless, he concluded a truce with him in

1538 for ten years, while at the same time his vice-chancellor Held

contrived to effect a union of Roman Catholic princes in Germany in

opposition to the Schmalkaldic League. This union was joined, in

addition to Austria, Bavaria, and George of Saxony, by Duke Henry of

Brunswick, the bitter enemy of the Landgrave Philip. Already in the

spring of that year people at Wittenberg talked of operations on a

large scale ostensibly directed against the Turks, but in reality

against the Protestants. Or at least it was feared that the imperial

army, in the event of its defeating the Turks, might, as Luther

expressed it, turn their spears against the Evangelical party. In

this respect Luther had no fears; he did not believe in a victory

over the Turks, and, even in that case, his opinion was that the

imperial troops would no more submit to be made the instruments of

such a policy than they had done some years before, after their

victory at Vienna. Most earnestly he exhorted the Elector, for his

part at least, to do his duty again in the war against the Turks,

for the sake of his Fatherland and the poor oppressed people. On the

other hand, the right of the Protestant States to resist the

Emperor, if it came to a war of religion, was one which he now

asserted without scruple or hesitation. The Emperor, he said, in

such a war would not be Emperor at all, but merely a soldier of the

Pope. He appealed to the fact that once among the people of Israel

pious and godly men had risen up against their sovereign; and the

German princes had additional rights over their Emperor, by virtue

of their constitution. Finally, he reasoned from the law of nature

itself, that a father was bound to protect his wife and children

from open murder; and he likened the Emperor, who usurped a power

notoriously illegal, to a murderer. For the rest, he declared, in a

publication exhorting the Evangelical clergy to pray for peace, that

as to whether the Papists chose to carry out their designs or not he

was perfectly indifferent, in case God did not will to work a

miracle. His only fear was lest a war might arise, if they did so,

which would never end, and would be the total ruin of Germany.

But the Emperor was less zealous and more cautious than his

vice-chancellor. He sent another representative to Germany, with

instructions to prevent an outbreak of hostilities. This envoy, in

the course of some negotiations conducted at Frankfort in April

1539, agreed to an understanding by which the ecclesiastical

law-suits hitherto instituted in the Imperial Chamber against the

Protestants were suspended, and a number of chosen theologians of

piety and laymen were to 'arrange a praiseworthy union of

Christians' at an assembly of the German Estates.

On April 17, in the midst of these transactions, Duke George of

Saxony died after a short illness. His country passed to his brother

Henry, who in his own smaller territory of Freiburg had for some

years, much to the grief of George, established the Evangelical form

of worship, and given shelter to the heretics banished by his

brother. The latter had left no male issue to succeed him. He had

lost two sons in boyhood; and his son John, who held the same

opinions as himself, had died two years ago, when quite a young man,

without leaving any children. His last remaining son Frederick was

of weak intellect, but had nevertheless been married after his

brother's death, and died a few weeks later. He was soon followed by

his unhappy father and sovereign. Luther said of him that he had

gone to everlasting fire, though he would have wished him life and

conversion. To us his end appears the more tragic because we cannot

but acknowledge the honest zeal with which, from his own point of

view, he endeavoured to serve God, and would willingly even have

effected a reform in the Church; whilst, in spite of all his

severity against heretics, he never suffered himself to be hurried

into deeds of coarse violence and cruelty. There are extant prayers

and religious discourses, composed and written down by himself. He

read the Bible, and expressed a wish, when Luther's translation

appeared, that 'the monk would put the whole Bible into German, and

then go about his business.'

Thus the old and constantly revived quarrel between Luther and the

Duke came at length to an end. The Reformation was immediately

introduced throughout the duchy by the appointment of Evangelical

clergy, by changes in public worship, and by a visitation of

churches after the example of the one in Electoral Saxony. When

Henry was solemnly acknowledged sovereign at Leipzig, he invited

Luther and Jonas to be present. On the afternoon of Whitsunday, May

24, 1539, Luther preached a sermon in the court chapel of that

Castle of Pleissenburg, where he had once disputed before George

with Eck, and on the following afternoon he preached in one of the

churches of the town, not venturing to do so in the morning on

account of his weak state of health. He now proclaimed aloud, in his

sermon on the Gospel for Whitsunday, that the Church of Christ was

not there, where men were madly crying 'Church! Church!' without the

Word of God, nor was it with the Pope, the cardinals, and the

bishops; but there, and there only, where Christ was loved and His

Word was kept, and where accordingly He dwelt in the souls of men.

He refrained from any special reference to the state of things

hitherto existing at Leipzig and in the duchy, or to the change

brought about by God. But we call to mind the words he had spoken in

1532, 'Who knows what God will do before ten years are over?' Very

soon, indeed, the magnates of the Saxon court and the nobility,

though accepting the reformed faith of their new sovereign, gave

occasion to Luther for bitter complaints of their rapacity, their

indifference to religion, and their improper and tyrannical

usurpations on the territory of the Church.

In addition to the Saxon duchy, the Electorate of Brandenburg was

also about to go over to Protestantism. The Elector Joachim I.

adhered so strictly to the ancient Church, that his wife Elizabeth,

who was evangelically inclined, had fled to Saxony, where she became

an intimate friend of Luther's household. But on his death in 1535,

his younger son John, together with his territory, the 'Neumark,'

joined at once the Schmalkaldic allies. And now, after longer

consideration, his elder brother also, Joachim II.--a man of quieter

disposition and more attached to ancient ways--took the decisive

step, after an agreement with his Estates and the territorial

bishop, Jagow. On November 1, 1539, he received from the latter

publicly the Sacrament in both kinds.

Under these circumstances the Emperor resolved to give effect to the

essential part of the Frankfort agreement. He summoned a meeting at

Spire 'for the purpose of so arranging matters that the wearisome

dissension in religion might be reconciled in a Christian manner.'

In consequence of a pestilence which appeared at Spire, the assembly

was removed to Hagenau. Here it was actually held in June 1540.

Meanwhile, the most vigorous champion of Protestantism, the

Landgrave Philip, took a step which was calculated to damage the

position of the Evangelical Church and to embarrass its adherents

more than anything which their enemies could possibly attempt.

Philip, in his youth (1523) had taken to wife a daughter of Duke

George of Saxony, but soon repented of his ill-considered resolve,

on the ground that she was of an unamiable disposition and was

afflicted with bodily infirmities, and accordingly proceeded to look

elsewhere for a mistress, after the fashion only too common at that

time with emperors and princes, but scarcely commented upon in their

case. The earnest remonstrances made to him on religious grounds

against this step had the effect of causing him certain prickings of

conscience; he had not ventured on that account, as he now

complained, to present himself at the Lord's table, with one single

exception, since the Peasants' War. But his conscience was not

strong enough to make him give up his evil ways. At last the Bible,

which he read industriously, seemed to him to provide a means of

outlet from his difficulty. He sheltered himself, as the Anabaptist

fanatics had done before him, behind the Old Testament precedent of

Abraham and other godly men, to whom it had been permitted to have

more than one wife, and pleaded, moreover, that the New Testament

contained no prohibition of polygamy. With all the energy and

stubbornness of his nature, he fastened on these notions and clung

to them, when, at the house of his sister, the Duchess Elizabeth, at

Rochlitz, he chanced to meet and fall in love with a lady named

Margaret von der Saal. She refused to be his except by marriage. Her

mother even demanded of him that Luther, Butzer, and Melancthon, or

at least two of them, together with an envoy of the Elector and the

Duke of Saxony, should be present as witnesses at the marriage.

Philip himself found the consent of these divines and of his most

distinguished ally, John Frederick, indispensable. He succeeded

first of all in gaining over the versatile Butzer, and sent him in

December 1539, on this errand, to Wittenberg.

He appealed to the strait that he was in, no longer able with a good

conscience to go to war or to punish crime, and also to the

testimony of Scripture, adding, very truly, that the Emperor and the

world were quite willing to permit both him and anyone else to live

in open immorality. Thus, he said, they were forbidding what God

allowed, and winking at what He prohibited. In other respects,

indeed, a double marriage was not a thing unheard of even by the

Christendom of those days. It was said, for instance, of the

Christian Emperor of Rome, Valentinian II., to whose case Philip

himself appealed, that he had been permitted to contract a marriage

of that kind. To the Pope was ascribed the power to grant the

necessary dispensation.

On December 10 Butzer brought back to the Landgrave from Wittenberg

an opinion of Luther and Melancthon. They told him in decided terms

that it was in accordance with creation itself, and recognised as

such by Jesus, 'that a man was not to have more than one wife;' and

they, the preachers of God's Word, were commanded to regulate

marriage and all human things 'in accordance with their original and

Divine institution, and to adhere thereto as closely as possible,

while at the same time avoiding to their utmost all cause of pain or

annoyance.' They urgently exhorted him not to regard incontinence,

as did the world, in the light of a trifling offence, and

represented to him plainly that if he refused to resist his evil

inclinations, he would not mend matters by taking a second wife. But

with all this exhortation and warning, they confessed themselves

bound to admit that 'what was allowed in respect of marriage by the

law of Moses was not actually forbidden in the gospel;' thereby

maintaining, in point of fact, that an original ordinance in the

Church must be adhered to as the rule, but nevertheless admitting

the possibility of a dispensation under very strong and exceptional

circumstances. They did not say that such a dispensation was

applicable to the case of Philip; they only wished him earnestly to

reconsider the matter with his own conscience. In the event,

however, of his keeping to his resolve, they would not refuse him

the benefit of a dispensation, and only required that the matter

should be kept private, on account of the scandal and possible abuse

it would occasion if generally known.

Luther himself abandoned afterwards the conclusions he drew from the

Old Testament in this respect, and, as a consequence, rejected the

admissibility of a double marriage for Christians. Friends of the

evangelical and Lutheran belief can only lament the decision he

pronounced in this matter. With that belief itself it has nothing

whatever to do. Instead of drawing his conclusions from the moral

aspect of marriage, as amply attested by the spirit of the New

Testament, though not indeed exactly expressed, Luther on this

occasion clung to the letter, and failed, of course, to find any

written declaration on the point. At the same time he mistook, in

common with all the theologians of his time, the difference, in

point of matured morality and knowledge, between the New Covenant

and the standpoint of the Old, which was that also of his best

adherents.

The simple Christian common sense of the Elector John Frederick, and

his practical view of the position, preserved him this time from the

error into which the theologians had fallen. He lamented that they

should have given an answer, and would have nothing to do with the

business.

Philip, however, rejoiced at the decision, and obtained, moreover,

his wife's consent to take a second one.

In the following March the Protestants held another conference at

Schmalkald, with a view of coming to an agreement as to their

conduct in the attempts at unity in the Church. The Elector summoned

Melancthon thither, but excused Luther, at his own request. Philip

then invited the former, under some pretext or other, to the

neighbouring Castle of Rothenburg on the Fulda. Arrived there, he

was obliged to be a witness with Butzer, on March 4, 1540, to the

marriage of the Landgrave with Margaret. Philip thanked Luther some

weeks after for the 'remedy' allowed him, without which he should

have become 'quite desperate.' He had kept the name of his second

wife a secret from the Wittenbergers; he now told Luther that she

was a virtuous maiden, a relative of Luther's own wife, and that he

rejoiced to have honourably become his kinsman.

Very soon, however, the news of this unheard of event got wind. The

Evangelicals were not less scandalised than their enemies, who in

other respects were glad to see the mischief. The first to demand an

explanation was the Ducal Court of Saxony, the Duke being so nearly

related to Philip's first wife, and on the eve of a quarrel with

Philip about a claim of inheritance. The Landgrave's whole position

was in jeopardy; for bigamy, by the law of the Empire, was a serious

offence. Luther heard now with indignation that the 'necessity' to

which Philip had thought himself justified in yielding had been

exaggerated. The latter, on the other hand, finding concealment no

longer possible, wished to announce his marriage publicly, and

defend it. He went so far as to imagine that even if the allies

should renounce him he might still procure the favour and

consideration of the Emperor. Unpleasant and very painful

discussions arose between him, John Frederick, and Duke Henry of

Saxony.

Meanwhile, the day was now approaching for the conference at

Hagenau. Melancthon was sent there too by the Elector. But on

reaching Weimar on June 13, where the prince was then staying, he

suddenly fell ill, and it seemed as if his end was close at hand. He

was oppressed with trouble and anxiety about the wrongdoing of the

Landgrave. The Elector himself wrote reproachfully to Philip, saying

that 'Philip Melancthon was disturbed with miserable thoughts about

him,' and he now lay between life and death. Luther was sent for by

the Elector from Wittenberg. He found the sick man lying in a state

of unconsciousness and seemingly quite dead to the world. Shocked at

the sight, he exclaimed, 'God help us! how has Satan marred this

vessel of Thy grace!' Then the faithful, manly friend fell to

praying God for his precious companion, casting, as he said, all his

heart's request before Him, and reminding Him of all the promises

contained in His own Word. He exhorted and bade Melancthon to be of

good courage, for that God willed not the death of a sinner, and he

would yet live to serve Him. He assured him he would rather now

depart himself. On Melancthon's gradually showing more signs of

life, he had some food prepared for him, and on his refusing it

said, 'You really must eat, or I will excommunicate you.' By degrees

the patient revived in body and soul. Luther was able to inform

another friend, 'We found him dead, and by an evident miracle he

lives.'

Luther, after this, was taken to Eisenach by his prince, to advise

him on the news which he expected to receive there from Hagenau. At

Eisenach he and the chancellor Brück had an earnest consultation

with envoys from Hesse. Against these, both Luther and Brück

insisted that the proceedings which had taken place between Philip

and the theologians in respect to his marriage should be kept as

secret as a confession, and that Philip must be content to have his

second marriage regarded, in the eyes of the world and according to

the law, as concubinage. He must make up his mind, therefore, to

parry, as best he could, the questions which were being noised

abroad about him, with vague statements or equivocations. He would

then incur no further personal danger. But any attempt to brazen it

out would inevitably land him in confusion and embarrassment, and

only increase and continue the damage done to the Evangelical cause

by this affair.

The Diet at Hagenau made no further demand on Luther's activity. It

was there resolved to take in hand again, at another meeting to be

held at Worms late in the autumn, and after further preparation, the

religious and ecclesiastical questions at issue. Peaceably-disposed

and competent men were to be appointed on both sides for this

purpose. Thus Luther was now at liberty to leave Eisenach towards

the end of July, and return home, dissatisfied, as he wrote to his

wife, with the Diet at Hagenau, where labour and expense had been

wasted, but happy in the thought that Melancthon had been restored

from death to life.

At Worms the proceedings, in which Melancthon and Eck took a

prominent part, were further adjourned to a Diet which the Emperor

purposed to hold in person at Ratisbon early in 1541. Here, on April

27, a debate was opened on religion.

Luther entertained very slender expectations from all these

conferences, considering the long-ascertained opinions of his

opponents. He pointed to the innocent blood which had long stained

the hands of the Emperor Charles and King Ferdinand. Still, during

the Diet at Worms, the thought arose in his mind that, if only the

Emperor were rightly disposed, a German Council might actually

result from that assembly. He saw his enemies busy with their secret

schemes of mischief, and feared lest many of his comrades in the

faith, such as the Landgrave Philip, might treat too lightly the

matter, which was no mere comedy among men, but a tragedy in which

God and Satan were the actors. He rejoiced again, however, that the

falsehood and cunning of his enemies must be brought to nought by

their own folly, and that God Himself would consummate the great

catastrophe of the drama. And in regard to the fear we have just

mentioned, he declared that he, at any rate, would not suffer

himself to be dragged into anything against his own conviction.

'Rather,' said he, 'would I take the matter again on my own

shoulders, and stand alone, as at the beginning. We know that it is

the cause of God, and He will carry it through to the end; whoever

will not go with it, must remain behind.'

Between the Diets of Worms and Ratisbon he entered in 1541, with all

his old severity, and with a violence even beyond his wont, into a

bitter correspondence which had just then begun between Duke Henry

of Brunswick--Wolfenbüttel, a zealous Catholic, and morally of ill

repute with friend and foe, on the one side, and John Frederick and

the Landgrave Philip, the heads of the Schmalkaldic League, on the

other. He published against Duke Henry a pamphlet 'Against Hans

Worst.' The Duke had taunted him with having allowed himself to call

his own sovereign Hans Wurst. Luther assured him, in reply, that he

had never given this name to a single man, whether friend or foe;

but now applied it to the Duke, because he found it meant a stupid

blockhead who wished to be thought clever and all the time spoke and

acted like a simpleton. But he was not content with calling him a

blockhead; he represented him as a profligate man, who, while

libelling the princes and pretending to be the champion of God's

ordinances, himself practised open adultery, committed acts of

violence and insolent tyranny, and incited men to incendiarism in

his opponents' territories. He would let the Duke scream himself

hoarse or dead with his calumnies against John Frederick and the

Evangelicals, and simply answer him by saying, 'Devil, thou liest!

Hans Worst, how thou liest! O, Henry Wolfenbüttel, what a shameless

liar thou art! Thou spittest forth much, and namest nothing; thou

libellest, and provest nothing.' At the same time this pamphlet of

Luther was a literary vindication of the Reformation and

Protestantism; here, said he, and not in the popedom, was the true,

ancient, and original Christian Church. Luther himself, on reading

over his pamphlet after it was printed, thought its tone against

Henry was too mild; a headache, he said, must have suppressed his

indignation.

Just at this time he had to encounter a fresh and violent attack of

illness. He described it, in a letter to Melancthon, who was then at

Ratisbon, as a 'cold in the head;' it was accompanied not only with

alarming giddiness, from which he was now a frequent sufferer, but

also with deafness and intolerable pains, forcing tears from his

eyes, something unusual with him, and making him call on God to put

an end to his pain or to his life. A copious discharge of matter

from his ear, which occurred in Passion Week, gave him relief; but

for a long while he continued very weak and suffering. To his

prince, who sent his private physician to attend him, he wrote on

April 25, thanking him, and adding, 'I should have been well content

if the dear Lord Jesus had taken me in His mercy from hence, as I am

now of little more use on earth.' He attributed his recovery to the

intercessions which Bugenhagen had made for him in the Church.

Whilst he was still feeling his head thus full of pain and unfit for

work, he was called upon to give his opinion on the preparations for

the religious conference at Ratisbon, and afterwards upon its

results.

Bright prospects seemed now to be opening for the victory of the

Gospel. Men of understanding and really desirous of peace had for

once been commissioned, by the Catholics as well as by the

Protestants, to conduct the debate. The chief actors were no longer

an Eck, though he, too, was one of the collocutors, but the pious,

gentle, and refined theologian Julius von Pflug, and the electoral

counsellor of Cologne, Gropper, who vied with him in an earnest

desire for reform and unity. Contarini also was there, as the Papal

legate--a man influenced by purely religious motives, and a convert

to the deeper Evangelical doctrine of salvation. Melancthon and

Butzer were also there. The questions of most importance from the

Evangelical point of view were first dealt with--namely, those which

related, not to the external system and authority of the Church, but

to man's need of, and the way to obtain, salvation, to sin, grace,

and justification. And it was now unanimously confessed that the

faithful soul is sustained solely by the righteousness given by

Christ; and for His sake alone, and not for any worthiness or works

of its own, is justified and accepted by God.

Never before, and never since, have Protestant and Catholic

theologians approached each other so nearly, nay, been so unanimous,

on these fundamental doctrines, as on that memorable day. And the

Catholics, in this, distinctly left the ground of mediæval

scholasticism, and went over to that of the Evangelicals. How

distinctly this was done will be apparent to any one who compares

the propositions accepted at the Conference of Ratisbon with the

Catholic reply to the Augsburg Confession of 1530.

Nevertheless, we do not find that Luther felt particularly elated by

the news from Ratisbon. The formula which embodied their agreement

seemed to him a 'roundabout and patched affair.' In connection with

faith, as the only means of justification, too much, he thought, was

said of the works which must spring from it; in connection with the

justification given to the faithful through Christ, too much was

said of the righteousness which each Christian must strive to

attain. He, too, had always taught and demanded both works and

righteousness. But the present arrangement of clauses seemed to him

calculated to lessen and obscure again the primary importance of

Christ and of Faith, as the sole means of salvation. And we see what

objection was uppermost in his mind, in his allusion to Eck, who

also was obliged to subscribe the formula. Eck, said Luther, would

never confess to having once taught differently to now, and would

know well enough how to adopt the new tenets to his old way of

thinking. They were putting a patch of new cloth upon an old

garment, and the rent would be made worse. (Matt. ix. 16.)

Luther was spared, however, a decision as to the acceptance or

non-acceptance of an agreement. For among the Catholic Estates of

the Empire he found, so far as he had followed the debate of the

Diet, too strong an opposition to hope for real union. Moreover,

the collocutors themselves were unable to agree when they came to

further questions, as, for example, the Mass and Transubstantiation;

they still shipwrecked, therefore, on those points which were of the

most vital importance for the external glorification of the

priesthood and the Church, and the surrender of which would have

meant the sacrifice of a dogma already ratified by a Conciliar

decree.

On June 11 an embassy from Ratisbon appeared before Luther in the

name of those Protestant states which were most zealous for unity.

Prince John of Anhalt was at their head. Luther was requested to

declare his concurrence with what had been done, and assist them in

giving permanent effect to the articles agreed to at the Conference,

and arranging some peaceful and tolerant compromise with regard to

those points on which agreement had been impossible. Luther was

quite prepared to acquiesce in such toleration, provided only the

Emperor would permit the preaching of the articles referring to the

doctrine of salvation, leaving it open to the Protestants to

continue their warfare of the Word on the points still remaining in

dispute. The Emperor, however, would only sanction those articles on

the understanding that a Council should finally decide upon them,

and that, in the meantime, all controversial writings on matters of

religion should cease. By the Catholic Estates at the Diet they were

strenuously opposed. Luther's own opinion remained substantially the

same as before--namely, that any trust or hopes were vain, unless

their enemies gave God the honour due to Him, and openly confessed

that they had changed their teaching. The Emperor must see and

acknowledge that within the last twenty years his Edict had been the

murder of many pious people.

The Conference accordingly remained fruitless. The Diet, however,

did not close without achieving an important result for the

Protestants; for the Emperor granted them, at their request, the

Religious Peace of Nüremberg.

The main reason that induced Charles so far to toleration and

leniency was the trouble with the Turks. With regard to these,

Luther now addressed himself once more to his countrymen with words

of earnestness and weight. He published an 'Exhortation to prayer

against the Turks,' teaching and warning his readers to regard them

as a scourge of God, and make war against them as God commanded.

From this time also dates his hymn