3. Elementary Schools and Higher Education
Luther’s Appeals on Behalf of the Schools
In a pamphlet of 1524, on the need of establishing schools, Luther spoke some emphatic and impressive words.[1]
There could be nothing worse, he declared, than to abuse and neglect the precious souls of the little ones; even a hundred florins was not too much to pay to make a good Christian of a boy; it was the duty of the magistrates and authorities to whom the welfare of the town was confided to see to this, the parents being so often either not pious or worthy enough to perform this office, or else too unlearned or too much hampered by their business or the cares of their household. The well-being of a town was not to be gauged by its fine buildings, but rather by the learning, good sense, and honourable behaviour of the burghers; given this the other sort of prosperity would never be lacking. Luther dwells on the urgent need of studying languages and sees an act of Providence in the dispersion of the Greeks whose presence in the West had been the means of giving a fresh stimulus to the study of Greek, and even to the cultivation of other languages. Without schools and learning no men would be found qualified to rule in the ecclesiastical or even in the secular sphere; even the management of the home and the duties of women to their families and households called for some sort of instruction.[2]
Owing to their innate leaning to savagery the German people, above all others, could ill afford to dispense with the discipline of the school. All the world calls us “German beasts”; too long have we been German beasts, let us therefore now learn to use our reason.[3]
He speaks of the educational value not only of languages but of history, mathematics and the other arts, but above all of religion, which, now that the true Evangel is preached, must take root in the hearts of the young, but which could not be maintained unless care was taken to ensure a supply of future preachers.
He gives an excellent answer to the objection: “What is the good of going to school unless we are thinking of becoming parsons?” The wholesale secularisation of ecclesiastical benefices had resulted in a great falling off in the number of scholars, the parents often thinking too much of the worldly prospects of their children. Luther, however, points out that even the secular offices deserve to be filled with men of education. “How useful and called for it is, and how pleasing to God, that the man destined to govern, whether as Prince, lord, councillor or otherwise, should be learned and capable of performing his duty as becomes a Christian.”[4]
This booklet, which is of great interest for the history of the schools, was translated into Latin in the same year by Vincentius Obsopœus (Koch) and published at Hagenau, with a preface by Melanchthon.[5] It also became widely known throughout Germany, being frequently reprinted in the original tongue. As the title shows, Luther addressed himself in the work “To the Councillors of all the townships,” viz. even to the Catholic magistrates among whom he stood in disfavour. He declares that it was a question of the “salvation and happiness of the whole German land. And were I to hit upon something good, even were I myself a fool, it would be no disgrace to anyone to listen to me.”[6]
In thus calling for the founding of schools Luther was but reiterating the admonition contained in his writing “To the German Nobility.” Such exhortations were always sure to win applause, and served to recommend not only his own person but even, in the case of many, his undertaking as a whole.[7] In his rules for the administration of the poor-box at Leisnig Luther had been mindful of the claims of the schools, nor did he forget them in the other regulations he drew up later. In his sermons, too, he also dwelt repeatedly on the needs of the elementary schools; when complaining of the decay of charity he is wont to instance the straits, not only of the parsonages and the poor, but also of the schools. “Only reckon up and count on your fingers what here [at Wittenberg] and elsewhere those who bask in the Evangel give and do for it, and see whether, were it not for us who are still living, there would remain a single preacher or student.… Are there then no poor scholars who ought to be studying and exercising themselves in the Word of God?” But “hoarding and scraping” are now the rule, so that hardly a town can be found “that collects enough to keep a schoolmaster or parson.”[8]
Many wealthy towns had, however, to Luther’s great joy, taken in hand the cause of the schools. Their efforts were to prove very helpful to the new religious system.
In the same year that the above writing appeared steps were taken at Magdeburg for the promotion of education, and Cruciger, Luther’s own pupil, was summoned from Wittenberg to assume the direction. Melanchthon and Luther repaired to Eisleben in 1525, where Count Albert of Mansfeld had founded a Grammar School. In some towns the Councillors carried out Luther’s proposals, in others, where the town-council was opposed to the innovators and their schools, the burghers “set at naught the Council,” as Luther relates, and erected “schools and parsonages”; in other words, they established schools as the best means to further the new Evangel.[9] At Nuremberg Melanchthon, a zealous promoter of education, exerted himself for the foundation of a “Gymnasium” which was to serve as a model of the new humanistic schools of the Evangelicals, and which was generously provided for by the town. May 6, 1526, saw the opening of this new school. Learned masters were appointed, for instance, Melanchthon’s friend Camerarius, the poet Eobanus Hessus and the humanist Michael Roting. In 1530 Luther speaks of it in words meant to flatter the Nurembergers as “a fine, noble school,” for which the “very best men” had been selected and appointed. He even tells all Germany, that “no University, not even that of Paris itself, was ever so well provided in the way of lecturers”; it was in no small measure owing to this school that “Nuremberg now shone throughout the whole of Germany like a sun, compared with which others were but moon and stars.”[10]
Yet it was certain disagreeable happenings at Nuremberg itself which led him to write in 1530 his second booklet in favour of the schools. In the flourishing commercial city there were many wealthy burghers who refused to send their children to the “Gymnasium,” thinking that, instead of learning ancient languages, they would be more usefully occupied in acquiring other elements of knowledge more essential to the mercantile calling; by so doing they had raised a certain feeling against the new school. Many were even disposed to scoff at all book-learning and roundly declared, as Luther relates, “If my son knows how to read and reckon then he knows quite enough; we now have plenty German books,” etc.[11]
In July of the above year, Luther, in the loneliness of the Coburg, penned a sermon having for its title “That children must be kept at school.” The sermon grew into a lengthy work; Luther himself was, later on, to bewail its long-windedness.[12] This writing, taken with that of 1524, supplies the gist of Luther’s teaching with regard to the schools.
In the preface, printed before the body of the work, he dedicates the writing to the Nuremberg “syndic” or town-clerk, Lazarus Spengler, an ardent promoter of the new teaching. A town like Nuremberg, he there says, “must surely contain more men than merchants, and also others who can do more than merely reckon, or read German books. German books are principally intended for the common people to read at home; but for preaching, governing and administering justice in both ecclesiastical and temporal sphere all the arts and languages in the world are not sufficient.” Already in the preface he inveighs against those who assert that arithmetic and a knowledge of German were quite enough: These small-minded worshippers of Mammon failed to take into consideration what was essential for “ruling”; both the civil and the ecclesiastical office would suffer under such a system.[13]
In this writing his style follows his mood, being now powerful, now popular and not seldom wearisome. He dwells longest on the spiritual office, expressing his fear, that, should the lack of interest in the schools become general, and the people continue so niggardly in providing for their support, there would result such a spiritual famine with regard to the Word of God, that ten villages would be left in the charge of a single parson. Passing on to the secular office he points out how the latter upholds the “temporal, fleeting peace, life and law.… It is an excellent gift of God Who also instituted and appointed it and Who demands its preservation.” Of this office “It is the work and glory that it makes wild beasts into men and keeps them in this state.… Do you not think that if the poor birds and beasts could speak and were able to see the action of the secular rule among men they would say: Dear fellows, you are no men but gods compared with us; how secure you sit and live, enjoying all good things, whereas we are not safe from each other for a single hour as regards our life, our home or our food.”[14]
“Such rule cannot continue, but must go to rack and ruin unless the law [the Roman law and the law of the land] is maintained. And what is to maintain it? Fists and blustering cannot do so, but only brains and books; we must learn to understand the wisdom and justice of our secular rule.” Speaking of the lawyers’ office for which the young must prepare themselves, he groups under it the “chancellors, clerks, judges, advocates, notaries and all others who are concerned with the law, not to speak of the great Johnnies who sport the title of Hofrat.”[15] On the calling of the physician he only touches lightly, showing that this “useful, consoling and health-giving” profession demands the retention of the Latin schools, short of which it must fall into decay.
The following hint was a practical one: Seeing that, in Saxony alone, about 4000 men of learning were needed—what with chaplains, schoolmasters and readers—those who wished to study had good prospects of “great honours and emoluments since two Princes and three townships were all ready to fight for the services of one learned man.” He urges that assistance should be given to poor parents out of the Church property so as to enable them to send their children to school, and that the rich should make foundations for this purpose.
In this writing, as in that of 1524, he addresses himself to the secular authorities and even demands that they should compel their subjects to send their children to school in order that the supply of capable men might not fail in the future. I consider, he says, “that the authorities are bound to force those under them to see to the schooling of their children, more particularly those just spoken of [the more gifted]; for it is undoubtedly their duty to see to the upkeep of the above-mentioned offices and callings.” If in time of war they could compel their subjects to render assistance and resist the enemy, much more had they the right to coerce them in respect of the children, seeing that this was a war against the devil who wished to despoil the land and the townships of able men, so as to be able “to cheat and delude them as he pleased.”[16]
As regards the question whether all children were to be forced to go to school, in this writing Luther does not speak of any universal compulsion; only “when the authorities see a capable lad”[17] does he wish coercion to be applied to the parents. In his first writing on the schools likewise, he had not advocated universal compulsion but had merely pointed out that it was “becoming” that the authorities should interfere where the parents neglected their duty;[18] he does not say how they are to “interfere,” but merely suggests that one or two “schoolmasters” should be provided whose salary should not be grudged.
“Hence it is incorrect,” rightly remarks Kawerau, “to represent Luther as the harbinger of universal compulsory education.”[19]
Fr. Lambert of Avignon, in his ecclesiastical regulations dating from 1526, indeed sought to establish national schools throughout Hesse, but his proposals were never enforced. It was only at the beginning of the 17th century that Wolfgang Ratke (Ratichius, †1635), a pedagogue educated in the Calvinistic schools, established the principle of universal education which then was incorporated in the educational regulations of Weimar in 1619.[20] But the Thirty Years’ War put an end to these attempts, and it was only in the 18th century that the principle of compulsory State education secured general acceptance, and then, too, owing chiefly to non-Lutheran influences.
Before entering further into the details of Luther’s educational plans we must cast a glance at a factor which seems to permeate both the above writings.
Polemical Trend of Luther’s Pedagogics
If we seek to characterise both the writings just spoken of we find that they amount to an appeal called forth by the misery of those times for some provision to be made to ensure a supply of educated men for the future. Frederick Paulsen describes them, particularly the earlier one, as nothing more than a “cry for help, wrung from Luther by the sudden, general collapse of the educational system which followed on the ecclesiastical upheaval.”[21] They were not dictated so much by a love for humanistic studies as such or by the wish to further the interests of learning in Germany, as by the desire to fill the secular-government berths with able, “Christian” men, and, above all, to provide preachers and pastors for the work Luther had commenced and for the struggle against Popery. The schools themselves were unobtrusively to promote the new Evangel amongst the young and in the home. Learning, according to Luther, as a Protestant theologian expressed it, was to enter “into the service of the Evangel and further its right understanding”; “the religious standpoint alone was of any real interest to him.”[22]
Melanchthon’s attitude to the schools was more broadminded. To some extent his efforts supplied what was wanting in Luther.[23] His object was the education of the people, whereas, in Luther’s eyes, the importance of the schools chiefly lay in their being “seminaria ecclesiarum,” as he once calls them. With him their aim was too much the mere promoting of his specific theological interests, to the “preservation of the Church.”[24]
According to Luther the first and most important reason for promoting the establishment of schools, was, as he points out to the “Councillors of all the Townships,” to resist the devil, who, the better to maintain his dominion over the German lands, was bent on thwarting the schools; “if we want to prick him on a tender spot then we may best do so by seeing that the young grow up in the knowledge of God, spreading the Word of God and teaching it to others.”[25] “The other [reason] is, as St. Paul says, that we receive not the grace of God in vain, nor neglect the accepted time.” The “donkey-stables and devil-schools” kept by monks and clergy had now seen their day; but, now that the “darkness” has been dispelled by the “Word of God,” we have the “best and most learned of the youths and men, who, equipped with languages and all the arts, can prove of great assistance.” “My dear, good Germans, make use of God’s grace and His Word now you have it! For know this, the Word of God and His grace is indeed here.”[26]
In many localities preachers of the new faith were in request, moreover, many of the older clergy, who had passed over to Luther’s side, had departed this life or had been removed by the Visitors on account of their incapacity or moral shortcomings. Those who had replaced them were often men of no education whatever. The decline of learning gave rise to many difficulties. Schoolmasters were welcomed not only as simple ministers but, as we have heard Luther declare, even as the candidates best fitted for the post of superintendent.[27] How frequently people of but slight education were appointed pastors is plain from the lists of those ordained at Wittenberg from 1537 onwards; amongst these we find men of every trade: clerks, printers, weavers, cobblers, tailors, and even one peasant. Seven years later, when the handicraftsmen had disappeared, we constantly find sextons and schoolmasters being entrusted with the ministerial office.[28]
This sad state of things must be carefully kept in mind if we are to understand the ideas which chiefly inspired the above writings, and as these have not so far been sufficiently emphasised we may be permitted to make some reference to them.
“We must have men,” says Luther in his first writing, viz. that addressed to the councillors, “men to dispense to us God’s Word and the sacraments and to watch over the souls of the people. But whence are we to get them if the schools are allowed to fall to ruin and other more Christian ones are not set up?”[29] “Christendom has always need of such prophets to study and interpret the Scriptures, and, when the call comes, to conduct controversy.”[30] Similar appeals occur even more frequently in the other writing, viz. that dedicated by Luther to his friend at Nuremberg. Already in his first writing, Luther, as the ghostly counsellor of Germany “appointed” in Christ’s name, boldly faces all other teachers, telling the Catholics, that what he was seeking was merely the “happiness and salvation” of the Fatherland.[31] In the second he expressly states that it is to all the German lands that he their “prophet” is speaking: “My dear Germans, I have told you often enough that you have heard your prophet. God grant that we may obey His Word.”[32] So entirely does he identify the interests of his Church with those of the schools. Well might those many Germans who did not hold with him—and at that time Luther was an excommunicate outlaw—well might they have asked themselves with astonishment whence he had the right to address them as though he were the representative and mouthpiece of the whole of Germany. Such exhortations have, however, their root in his usual ideas of religion and in the anxiety caused by the urgent needs of the time.
At the Coburg the indifference, coldness and avarice of his followers appears to him in an even darker light than usual. He well sees that if the schools continue to be neglected as they have been hitherto the result will be a mere “pig sty,” a “hideous, savage horde of ‘Tatters’ and Turks.” Hence he fulminates against the ingratitude displayed towards the Evangel and against the stinginess which, though it had money for everything, had none to spare for the schools and the parsons; the imagery to which he has recourse leaves far behind that of the Old Testament Prophets.
Here we have the real Luther whom, as he himself admits, though in a different sense, stands revealed in this writing penned at the Coburg.[33] “Is this not enough to arouse God’s wrath?… Verily it would be no wonder were God to open wide the doors and windows of hell and rain and hail on us nothing but devils, or were He to send fire and brimstone down from heaven and plunge us all into the abyss of hell like Sodom and Gomorrha … for they were not one-tenth as wicked as Germany is now.”[34] Has then Christ, the Son of God, deserved this of us, he asks, that so many care nothing for the schools and parsonages, and “even dissuade the children from becoming ministers, that this office may speedily perish, and the blood and passion of Christ be no longer of any avail.”[35] Here again his chief reason for maintaining the schools is his anxiety: “What is otherwise to become of the ghostly office and calling.”[36] Only after he has considered this question from all sides and demonstrated that his Church’s edifice stands in need not merely of “worked stones” but also of “rubble,” i.e. both of clever men and of others less highly gifted,[37] does he come in the second place to the importance of having learned men even in the secular office.
He had begun this writing with an allusion to the devil, viz. to “the wiles of tiresome Satan against the holy Evangel”; he also concludes it in the same vein, speaking of the “tiresome devil,” who secretly plots against the schools and thereby against the salvation of both town and country.[38]
The author goes at some length into the question of languages and declares that the main reason for learning them was a religious one.
Languages enable us “to understand Holy Scripture,” he says, “this was well known to the monasteries and universities of the past, hence they had always frowned on the study of languages”; the devil was afraid that languages would make a hole “which afterwards it would not be easy for him to plug.” But the providence of God has outreached him, for, by “making over Greece to the Turks and sending the Greeks into exile, their language was spread abroad and an impetus was given even to the study of other tongues.” And now, thanks to the languages, the Gospel has been restored to its “earlier purity.” Hence, for the sake of the Bible and the Word of God, let us hark back to the languages. His excellent observations on the importance of the study of languages for those in secular authority, though perfectly honest, hold merely a secondary place. The chief use of the languages is as a weapon against the Papacy. “The dearer the Evangel is to us, the more let us hold fast to the languages!”
So anxious is he to see the future schools thoroughly “Christian,” i.e. Evangelical and all devoted to the service of his cause, that he expressly states that otherwise he “would rather that not a single boy learnt anything but remained quite dumb.” Hence the earlier “universities and monasteries” must be made an end of. Their way of teaching and living “is not the right one for the young.” “It is my earnest opinion, prayer and wish that these donkey-stables and devil-schools should either sink into the abyss or else be transformed into Christian schools. But now that God has bestowed His grace upon us so richly and provided us with so many well able to teach and bring up the young, we are actually in danger of flinging the grace of God to the winds.” “I am of opinion that Germany has never heard so much of God’s Word as now.… God’s Word is a streaming downpour, the like of which must not be expected again.”[39]
Hence the two writings differ but little from his usual polemical and hortatory works. They do not make of Luther the “father of the national schools,” as he has been erroneously termed, because, what he was after was not the real education of the masses but something rather different; still less do the booklets, with their every page reeking of the Word of God which he preached, make him the father of the modern undenominational schools.[40]
In fact, elementary schools as such have scarcely any place in these writings. What concerns him is rather the Latin grammar schools, and only as an afterthought does he passingly allude to the other schools in which children receive their first grounding.[41]
Luther’s standpoint as to the Church’s need of Grammar Schools is always the same, even when he speaks of them in the Table-Talk.
“When we are dead,” he says for instance, “where will others be found to take our place unless there are schools? For the sake of the Churches we must have Christian schools and maintain them.”[42]—“When the schools multiply, things are going well and the Church stands firm.”[43]—“By means of such cuttings and saplings is the Church sown and propagated.”—“The schools are of great advantage in that they undoubtedly preserve the Churches.”[44]
“Hence a reformation of the schools and universities is also called for,” so he writes in a memorandum,[45] immediately after having declared, that “it is necessary to have good and pious preachers; all will depend on men who must be educated in the schools and universities.”[46]
For this reason, viz. on account of the preparation they furnished, he even has a kind word for the schools of former days.
He recalls to mind, that, even in Popery “the schools supplied parsons and preachers.” “In the schools the little boys learnt at least the Our Father and the Creed and the Church was wonderfully preserved by means of the tiny schools.”[47]—Of a certain hymn he remarks, that it was “very likely written and kept by some good schoolmaster or parson. The schools were indeed the all-important factor in the Church and the ‘ecclesia’ of the parson.”[48]
Luther’s Educational Plans
When, in his exhortations, Luther so warmly advocated the study of Latin and of languages generally, he was merely keeping to the approved traditional lines. Although he values ancient languages chiefly as a means for the better understanding of Scripture, he is so prepossessed in their favour in “worldly matters” that he even praises Latin at the expense of German. He is particularly anxious that Latin works should be read; among themselves the boys were to speak Latin. Recommending the study of tongues, he says: “If we make such a mistake, which God forbid, as to give up the study of languages, we shall not only lose the Gospel but come to such straits as to be unable to read or write aright either Latin or German.” The education of earlier days had not only led men away from the Gospel owing to the neglect of languages, but “the wretched people became mere brutes, unable to read or write either Latin or German correctly, nay, had almost lost the use of their reason.” It was statements such as these which drew from Friedrich Paulsen the exclamation: “Hence Christianity and education, nay, even sound common sense itself, all depend on the knowledge of languages!”[49]
Well founded as were Luther’s demands for a Latin education, yet we find in him a notable absence of discrimination between schools and schools.
Even in the preparatory schools he was anxious to see the study of languages introduced, and that for the girls too. Boys and girls, he says, ought to be instructed “in tongues and other arts and subjects.” He was of opinion, that, in this way, it would be possible from the very first to pick out those best fitted to pursue the study of languages and to become later “schoolmasters, schoolmistresses or preachers.”[50] He even appeals to the example of olden Saints such as Agnes, Agatha and Lucy when urging that the more talented girls should receive a grounding in languages.[51] “It would undoubtedly have been quite enough had the less ambitious children been taught merely to reckon, and to read and write German.” “Luther’s action in having as many children of the people as possible taught languages … and his warfare against the use of German in the schools, whether in the towns, the villages, or the hamlets, was all very unpractical.… He had come to the conclusion that German schools, for one reason or another, were unsuited to be nurseries for the Church (‘seminaria ecclesiæ’), hence his effort to transplant into the Latin grammar schools every sapling on which he could lay hands.”[52]
The injunctions appended to Melanchthon’s Visitation rules (1538), which were sanctioned and approved of by Luther, lay such stress on the teaching of languages that the humbler schools were bound to suffer. When dealing with “the schools” their only object seems to be the “upbringing of persons fit to teach in the churches and to govern.” And this aim, moreover, is pursued onesidedly enough, for we read: “The schoolmasters are in the first place to be diligent to teach the children only Latin, not German, or Greek, or Hebrew, as some have hitherto done, thus overburdening the poor children’s minds.” The regulations then proceed to prescribe in detail the studies to be undertaken in the lowest form: “In order that the children may get hold of many Latin words, they are to be made to learn some words every evening, as was the way in the schools in former days.” After the children have learnt to spell out the handbook containing the “Alphabet, the Our Father, Creed and other prayers they are to be set to Donatus and Cato … so that they may thus learn a number of Latin words and gain a certain readiness of speech (‘copia dicendi’).” Apart from this the lowest form is to be taught only writing and “music.”
The next class was to learn grammar (needless to say Latin grammar) and to be exercised in Æsop’s Fables, the “Pedologia” of Mosellanus and the “Colloquia” of Erasmus, such of the latter being selected “as are useful for children and not improper.” “Once the children have learnt Æsop they are to be given Terence, which they must learn by heart.” There is no mention made here of any selection, this possibly being left to the teacher; in the case of Plautus, who was to follow Terence, this is expressly enjoined.—Of the religious instruction we read: Seeing it is necessary to teach the children the beginnings of a Godly, Christian life, “the schoolmaster is to catechise the whole [2nd] class, making the children recite one after the other the Our Father, the Creed and the Ten Commandments.” The schoolmaster was to “explain” these and also to instil into the children such points as were essential for living a good life, such as the “fear of God, faith and good works.” The schoolmaster was not to get the children into the habit of “abusing monks or others, as many incompetent masters do.” Finally, it was also laid down that those Psalms which exhort to the “fear of God, faith and good works” were to be learnt by heart, especially Psalms cxii., xxxiv., cxxviii., cxxv., cxvii., cxxxiii. (cxi., xxxiii., cxxvii., cxxiv., cxxvi., cxxxii.), the Gospel of St. Matthew was also to be explained and perhaps likewise the Epistles of Paul to Timothy, the 1st Epistle of John and the Book of Proverbs.
In the 3rd class, in addition to grammar, versification, dialectics and rhetoric had to be studied, the boys being exercised in Virgil and Cicero (the “Officia” and “Epistolæ familiares”). “The boys are also to be made to speak Latin and the schoolmasters themselves are as far as possible to speak nothing but Latin with them in order thus to accustom and encourage them in this practice.”[53]
In his two appeals for the schools in 1524 and 1530 Luther is less explicit in his requirements than the regulations for the Visitation. According to him, apart from the languages, it is the text of Scripture which must form the basis of all the instruction.
Holy Scripture, especially the Gospel, was to be everywhere “the chief and main object of study.” “Would to God that every town had also a school for girls where little maids might hear the Gospel for an hour a day, either in German or in Latin.… Ought not every Christian at the age of nine or ten to be acquainted with the whole of the Gospel? Young folk throughout Christendom are pining away and being pitiably ruined for want of the Gospel, in which they ought always to be instructed and exercised.”
“I would not advise anyone to send his child where Holy Scripture is not the rule. Where the Word of God is not constantly studied everything must needs be in a state of corruption.”[54]
In the event, the Bible, together with Luther’s Catechism which had to be committed to memory, and the hymn-book, became the chief manuals in the Lutheran schools. On these elements a large portion of the young generation of Germany was brought up.
For the study of languages Luther, like Melanchthon, recommended the “Disticha” ascribed to Cato and Æsop’s Fables. “It is by the special mercy of God,” he says, “that Cato’s booklet and the Fables of Æsop have been preserved in the schools.”[55] We shall describe elsewhere the efforts he himself made to expurgate the editions of Æsop which had become corrupted by additions offensive to good morals. Various Latin classics which Humanists were wont to put in the hands of the scholars he characterised in his Table-Talk as unsuitable for school use. “It would be well that the books of Juvenal, Martial, Catullus and also Virgil’s ‘Priapeia’ were weeded out of the land and the schools, banished and expelled, for they contain coarse and shameless things such as the young cannot study without grievous harm.”[56] Of the Roman writers (with the Greeks he is much less at home) he extols Cicero, Terence and Virgil as useful and improving. As a whole, however, Luther always remained “at heart a stranger to true Humanism.… Though not altogether inappreciative of elegance of style, he is far from displaying the enthusiasm of the Humanists.”[57] Although he shows himself fairly well acquainted with the writings of the three authors just mentioned, and though he owed this education to his early training, yet, in his efforts to belittle the olden schools, he complains, that “no one had taught him to read the poets and historians,” but, that, on the other hand, he had been obliged to study the “devil’s ordure and the philosophers.”[58]
It must not be overlooked that he, like the Instructions for the Visitors, recommends that Terence and other olden dramatists should be given to the young to be read, and even acted, though, as he admits, they “sometimes contain obscenities and love stories.” This advice he further emphasised in 1537 by declaring that a Protestant schoolmaster of Bautzen was in the right, when, regardless of the scandal of many, he had Terence’s “Andria” performed. Luther agreed with Melanchthon in thinking that the picture of morals given in this piece was improving for the young; also that the disclosure of the “cunning of women, particularly of light women,” was instructive; the boys would thus learn how marriages were arranged, and, after all, marriage was essential for the continuance of society: Even Holy Scripture contained some love stories. “Thus our people ought not to accuse these plays of immorality or declare that to read or act them was prohibited to a Christian.”[59]
The regulations for the Protestant schools, in following Luther in this matter, merely trod in the footsteps of the older German Humanists, who had likewise placed Terence and Plautus in the hands of their pupils. On the contrary Jakob Wimpfeling, the “Teacher of Germany,” was opposed to them and wished to see Terence banished from the schools in the interests of morality. At a later date in the Catholic Grammar schools this author was on moral grounds forbidden to the more youthful pupils, and only read in excerpts.[60]
In his suggestions on the instruction to be given in the Latin schools (for in reality it was only of these that he was thinking) Luther classes with languages and other arts and sciences “singing, music and mathematics as a whole.”[61] Greek and Hebrew no less than Latin would also be indispensable for future scholars. He further wished the authorities to establish “libraries” to further the studies; not, however, such libraries as the olden ones, containing “mad, useless, harmful, monkish books”—“donkey’s dung introduced by the devil”—“but Holy Scripture in Latin, Greek, Hebrew and German, and any other languages in which it might have been published; besides these the best and oldest commentaries in Greek, Hebrew and Latin, and furthermore such books as served for the study of languages, for instance, the poets and orators,” etc. “The most important of all were, however, the chronicles and histories … for these are of wonderful utility in enabling us to understand the course of events, for the art of governing, as also for perceiving the wonderful works of God. Oh, how many fine stories we ought to have about what has been done and enacted in the German lands, of which we, sad to say, know nothing.” In his appreciation of the study of history and of the proverbial philosophy of the people Luther was in advance of his day.
Owing to his polemics the judgment he passed on the olden libraries was very unjust; the remaining traces of them and the catalogues which have been published of those that have been dispersed show that, particularly from the early days of Humanism, the better mediæval collections of books had reached and even passed the standard Luther sets up in the matter of history and literature.
Very modest, not to say entirely inadequate, is the amount of time Luther proposes that the children should daily spend in the schools. Of the lower schools, in which Latin was already to be taught, he says, it would be enough for “the boys to go to such a school every day for an hour or two and work the rest of their time at learning a trade, or doing whatever was required of them.… A little girl, too, could easily find time to attend school for an hour daily and yet thoroughly perform her duties in the house.” Only the “pick” of the children, those, namely, who gave good promise, were to spend “more time and longer hours” in study.[62]
From all the above it is plain that there is good reason for not accepting the extravagant statement that Luther’s writings on education constitute the “charter of our national schools.” Others have extolled him as the founder of the “Gymnasium” on account of his reference in these works to the Latin schools. But even this is scarcely true, for, in them, the author either goes beyond the field covered by the Gymnasium or else fails to reach it. The Protestant pastor, Julius Boehmer, says in the popular edition of Luther’s works:[63] “It will not do to regard the work (”An die Radherrn“) as the ‘Charter of the Gymnasium,’ as has often been done, seeing that, as stated above, it is concerned with both the Universities and the lower-grade schools.”[64]
As to attendance at the Universities, of which Luther also speaks, he asks the authorities to forbid the matriculation of any but the “clever ones,” though among the masses “every fellow wanted a doctorate.”[65]
What he says of the various Faculties at the Universities is also noteworthy. With the object of reforming philosophy and the Arts course he wishes that of all the writings of Aristotle, that blind heathen master, who had hitherto led astray the Universities, only the “Logica,” “Rhetorica” and “Poetica” should be retained; “the books: ‘Physicorum,’ ‘Metaphysicæ,’ ‘De anima’ and ‘Ethicorum’ must be dropped”; curiously enough these are the very works on which Melanchthon was later on to bestow so much attention. We know how hateful Aristotle was to Luther, because, in his heathen way, he teaches nothing of grace and faith, but, on the other hand, extols the natural virtues. Luther’s impulsive and unmethodical mode of thought was also, it must be said, quite at variance with the logical mind of the Stagirite.
According to Luther “artistic education must be wholly rooted out as a work of the devil; the very most that can be tolerated is the use of those works which deal with form, but even these must not be commented on or explained.”[66]
“The physicians,” he says, “I leave to reform their own Faculty; I shall see myself to the lawyers and theologians; and, first of all, I say that it would be a good thing if the whole of Canon Law from the first syllable to the last were expunged, more particularly the Decretals. We are told sufficiently in the Bible how to conduct ourselves in all matters.” Secular law, so he goes on, has also become a “wilderness,” and accordingly he is in favour of drastic reforms. “Of sensible rulers in addition to Holy Scripture there are plenty”; national law and national usage ought certainly not to be subordinated to the Imperial common law, or the land “governed according to the whim of the individual.… Justice fetched from far afield was nothing but an oppression of the people.” Theology, according to him, must above all be Biblical, though now everything is made to consist in the study of the Book of Sentences of the schoolman, Peter Lombard, and of his commentators, the Gospel in both schools and courts of justice being left “forlorn” in the dust under the bench.[67]
He rightly commends the Disputations, sometimes termed “circulares,” held at the Universities by the students under the direction of their professor; it pleased him well that the students should bring forward their own arguments, even though they were sometimes not sound; for “stairs can only be ascended step by step.” The Disputations, in his view, also accustomed young men to “reflect more diligently on the subjects discussed.”[68]
To conclude, we may say a few words concerning the incentives he uses when urging parents to entrust their children to the schools.
Here Luther considerably oversteps the limits. In one passage, for instance, he thinks it his right to threaten the parents with the worst punishments of hell should they refuse to allow gifted children to study, in order to place them later at the service of the pure Word of God, or of the Christian rulers, as though forsooth parents and children had no right in the sight of God to choose their own profession. “Tell me what hell can be deep and hot enough for such shameful wickedness as yours?” “If you have a child who studies well, you are not free to bring him up as you please, nor to treat him as you will, but must bear in mind that you owe it to God to promote His two rules.” Should the father refuse to allow the boy to become a preacher, he says, then, so far as in him lies, he was really consigning to hell all those whom the budding preacher might have assisted; compared with such a crime against the common weal the “outbreaks of the rebellious peasants were mere child’s play.” This he says in a printed letter addressed in 1529 to the town commandant, Hans Metzsch of Wittenberg, which served as a prelude to his pamphlet “Das man Kinder zur Schulen halten solle.”[69] The writing is solely dictated by Luther’s bitter annoyance at the dearth of pastors and the indifference displayed within his fold.
In this letter, as in both his works on the schools, Luther, whilst dealing with the excuses of the parents, at the same time throws some interesting sidelights on the decline in learning and its causes.
The Decline of the Schools Following in the Wake of the Innovations
In the above letter to Metzsch Luther briefly gives as follows the principal reason for the decay of learning: People were in the habit of saying, “If my son has learnt enough to gain his living then he is quite learned enough.”[70]
The contempt for learned studies was “largely due to the strongly utilitarian temper of the age.” “Owing in the first place to the flourishing state of the towns in the 13th and 14th century, and further to the influence of the great political upheaval which resulted from the discoveries and inventions of the day, a sober, practical spirit, directed solely to material gain, had been aroused throughout a wide section of the German nation. Preference was shown for the German schools where writing and reckoning were taught and which prepared children for the calling of the handicraftsman or the merchant.”[71] Against this tendency of the day Luther enters the lists particularly in his second work on the schools dedicated to the syndic of Nuremberg; at the same time he deals, not in the best of tempers, with the objections advanced by the merchant and industrial classes.[72] He speaks so harshly as almost to place in the same category those who refused to bring up their children “to art and learning” and those who turned them “into mere gluttons and sucking pigs, intent on food alone” (to Metzsch). “The world would thus become nothing but a pig-sty”; these “gruesome, noxious, poisonous parents were bent on making simple belly servers of their children,” etc.[73]
It is a question, however, whether the development of the material trend, so surprisingly rapid, with its destructive influence on study was not furthered by the religious revolution with which it coincided. Luther had sapped the respect which had obtained for the clerical life and for those callings which aimed at perfection, while at the same time, by belittling good works he loosened the inclinations of the purely natural man; by his repudiation of authority he had produced an intellectual self-sufficiency or rather self-seeking, which, in the case of many, passed into mere material egotism, though, of course, Luther’s work cannot be directly charged with the utilitarianism of the day.
What, however, made his revolt to contribute so greatly to the decline of learning was its destruction of the wealth of clergy and monks, and its confiscation of so many livings and foundations established for educational purposes. By far the greater number of students had always consisted of such as wished to obtain positions in the Church among her secular clergy, or to become priests in some monastery. The ranks of these students had been thinned of late years now that the Catholic posts no longer existed, that the foundations which formerly provided for the upkeep of students had disappeared and that an avalanche of calumny and abuse had descended on the monasteries, priests and monks.[74] In addition to this there was the fear aroused in Catholic parents and pastors by the unhappy controversies on religion, lest the young should be infected in the higher schools these being so frequently hot-beds of the modern spirit, of hypercriticism and apostasy. Then, again, there was the distrust, springing from a similar motive, felt by the Catholic authorities for the centres of learning, and their niggardliness in making provision for them, an attitude which we meet with, for instance, in Duke George of Saxony. This was encouraged in the case of the rulers by the fear of social risings, such as they had experienced in the Peasant War, and which they laid to the charge of the new ideas on religion.
Among those favourable to Lutheranism the Wittenberg professor himself awakened a distaste for the Universities by telling them they must not allow their sons to study where Holy Scripture “did not rule” and “where the Word of God was not unceasingly studied.”[75] No one ever depreciated the Universities as much as Luther, who principally because their character was still Catholic, was never tired of calling them the “gates of hell,” and places worse than Sodom and Gomorrha.[76] Nor did he stop short at the condemnation of their religious attitude. Luther’s antagonism to the whole system of philosophy, which the Universities, following the example of Aristotle and the schoolmen, had been so criminal as to admit, to the liberty they allowed to crazy human reason in spiritual matters, and to their championship of natural truth and natural morality as the basis of the life of faith, all this, when carried to its logical conclusion, necessarily brought Lutheranism into fatal conflict with the learned institutions.
As Friedrich Paulsen points out: “Luther shared all the superstitions of the peasant in their most pronounced form; the methods of natural science were strange to him and any scattering of the prevalent delusions he would have looked upon as an abomination.”[77] The latter part of the quotation certainly holds good in those cases where Luther fancied that Holy Scripture or his explanation of it was ever so slightly impugned. When, on June 4, 1539, the conversation at table turned on Copernicus and his new theory concerning the earth, of which the latter had been convinced since 1507, Luther appealed (just as later opponents of the theory were to do) to Holy Scripture, according to which “Josue bade the sun to stand still and not the earth.” The new astronomer wants to prove that the earth moves. “But that is the way nowadays: whoever wishes to seem clever, pays no attention to what others do, but must needs advance something of his own; and what he does must always be the best. The idiot is bent on upsetting the whole art of astronomy.”[78]
Luther’s condemnation of philosophy found a strong echo among the Pietists, who were an offshoot of Lutheranism, and even claimed to be its truest representatives. The loud denunciations of Aristotle were, for instance, taken up by the theologian Zierold.[79] But even from the common people who looked up to him we hear such sayings as the following: “What is the use of our learning the Latin, Greek and Hebrew tongues and other fine arts seeing we might just as well read in German the Bible and the Word of God which suffices for our salvation?” Luther was not at a loss for an answer. He says first: “Yes, I know, alas, that we Germans must always remain beasts and senseless animals.” Then he falls back on his usual plea, viz. that languages “are profitable and advantageous” for a right understanding of Scripture; he forgets that he has here to do with the common people, and that a critical or philosophical interpretation of the Bible was of small use to them. Such a thing might be profitable to those who were being trained for the ministry, though many even of the preachers themselves declared that the illumination from above sufficed, together with the reading of the Bible.[80]
Carlstadt was even opposed to the Wittenberg graduations because they promoted pride of learning and the worldly spirit instead of humble Bible faith. Melanchthon, at a time when he was still full of Luther’s early ideas, i.e. in Feb., 1521, in a work written under the pseudonym of Didymus Faventinus, attempted to vindicate against Hieronymus Emser his condemnation of the whole philosophy of the universities; physics as taught there consisted merely of monstrous terms and contradicted the teaching of the Bible; metaphysics were but an impudent attempt to storm the heavens under the leadership of the atheist Aristotle. “My complaint is against that wisdom by which you have drawn away Christians from Scripture to reason. Go on, he-goat,” he says to Emser, “and deny that the philosophy of the schools is idolatry”; your ethics is diametrically opposed to Christ; at the Universities human reason had degraded the Church to Sodomitic vices. Nothing more wicked and godless than the Universities had ever been invented; no pope, but the devil himself was their author; this even Wiclif had declared, and he could not have said anything wiser or more pious. The Jews offered young men to Moloch, a prelude to our Universities where the young are sacrificed to heathen idols.[81]
To such an extent had the darksome pseudo-mysticism which seethed in Luther’s mind laid hold for a while upon his comrade—glaringly though it contradicted the humanistic tendency found in him both earlier and later.
If we look more closely into the decline of the schools, we shall find that it came about with extraordinary rapidity, a fact which proves it to have been the result of a movement both sudden and far-reaching.
“The immediate effect of the Wittenberg preaching,” wrote in 1908 the Protestant theologian F. M. Schiele in the “Preussische Jahrbücher” of Berlin, in a strongly worded but perfectly true account of the situation, “was the collapse of the educational system which had flourished throughout Germany; the new zeal for Church reform, the growth of prosperity, the ambition in the burghers, the pride and fatherly solicitude of the sovereigns who were ever gaining strength, had resulted in the foundation on all sides of school after school, university after university. Students flocked to them in multitudes, for the prospects of future gain were good. Scholasticism provided a capable teaching staff, Humanism a brilliant one. Humanism also set up as the new ideal of education a return to the fountain-head and the reproduction of ancient civilisation by means of original effort on similar lines. Wide tracts of Germany lay like a freshly sown field, and many a harvest seemed to be ripening. Then, suddenly, before it was possible to determine whether the new crops consisted of wheat or of tares, a storm burst and destroyed all prospects of a harvest. The upheaval that followed in the wake of the Reformation, and other external causes which coincided with it, above all the reaction among the utilitarian-minded laity against the unpopular scholarship of the Humanists emptied the class rooms and lecture halls.… Now all is over with the priestlings; why then should we bind our future to a lost and despised cause?… Nor was this merely the passing result of a misapprehension of Luther’s preaching, for it endured for scores of years.”[82]
As to the common opinion among Protestants, viz. that “Luther’s reformation gave a general stimulus to the schools and to education generally,” Schiele dismisses it in a sentence: “The alleged ‘stimulus’ is seen to melt away into nothing.”[83]
Eobanus Hessus, a Humanist friendly to Luther, who lectured at Erfurt University, was so overcome with grief at sight of the decline that was making itself felt there that, in 1523, he composed an Elegy on the decay of learning entitled “Captiva” and sent it to Luther. The melancholy poem of 428 verses was printed in the same year under the title “Circular letter from the sorrowful Church to Luther.” Luther replied, praising the poem and assuring the sender that he was favourably disposed towards the humanistic studies and practices. He even speaks as though still full of the expectation of a great revival; his depression is, however, apparent from the very reasons he gives for his hopes: “I see that no important revelation of the Word of God has ever taken place without a preliminary revival and expansion of languages and erudition.” The present decline might, however, he thought, be traced to the former state of things when they did not as yet possess the “pure theology.”[84]
But Hessus had complained, and with good reason, of the evil doings of the new believers, instances of which had come under his notice at Erfurt, and which had caused many to declare sadly: “We Germans are becoming even worse barbarians than before, seeing that, in consequence of our theology, learning is now going to the wall.”[85] At Erfurt the Lutheran theology had won its way to the front amidst tumults and revolts since the day when Crotus had greeted Luther on his way to Worms with his revolutionary discourse.[86] Since then there had been endless conflicts of the preachers with the Church of Rome and amongst themselves. Some were to be met with who inveighed openly against the profane studies at the Universities, and could see no educative value in anything save in their own theology and the Word of God. Attendance at the University had declined with giant strides since the spread of Lutheranism. Whereas from May 1520 to 1521 the names of 311 students had been entered, their number fell in the following year to 120 and in 1522 to 72; five years later there were only 14.
Hessus wrote quite openly in 1523: “On the plea of the Evangel the runaway monks here in Erfurt have entirely suppressed the fine arts … our University is despised and so are we.”
His colleague, Euricius Cordus, a learned partisan of Luther, expresses himself with no less disgust concerning the state of learning and decline of morals among the students.[87] “All those who have any talent,” we read in the Academic Year-Book in 1529, “are now forsaking barren scholarship in order to betake themselves to more remunerative professions, or to trade.”[88]
As at Erfurt, so also at other Universities, a rapid diminution in the number of students took place during those years. “It has been generally remarked,” a writer who has made a special study of this subject says, “that in the German Universities in the ’twenties of the 16th century a sudden decrease in the number of matriculations becomes apparent.” He proves from statistics that at the University of Leipzig from 1521 to 1530 the number of those studying dropped from 340 to 100, at the University of Rostock from 123 to 33, at Frankfurt-on-the-Oder from 73 to 32 and, finally, at Wittenberg from 245 to 174.[89] The attendance at Heidelberg reached its lowest figure between 1521 and 1565, “this being due to the religious and social movements of the Reformation which proved an obstacle to study.” Of the German Universities generally the following holds good: “The religious and social disturbances of the Reformation brought about a complete interruption in the studies. Some of the Universities were closed down, at others the hearers dwindled down to a few.”[90]
“The Universities, Erfurt, Leipzig and the others stand deserted,” Luther himself says as early as 1530, gazing from the Coburg at the ruins, “and likewise here and there even the boys’ schools, so that it is piteous to see them, and poor Wittenberg is now doing better than any of them. The foundations and the monasteries, in my opinion, are probably also feeling the pinch.”[91] He speaks at the same time of the decline of the Grammar schools and the lower-grade schools which also to some extent shared the fate of the Universities.
In the Catholic parts of Germany the clergy schools and monastic schools suffered severely under the general calamity, as Luther had shrewdly guessed. Nor was the set-back confined to the Universities, but even the elementary schools suffered.
It was practically the universal complaint of the monasteries, so Wolfgang Mayer, the learned Cistercian Abbot of Alderspach in Bavaria, wrote in 1529, that they were unable to continue for lack of postulants; “in consequence of the Lutheran controversy the schools everywhere are standing empty and no one is willing any longer to devote himself to study. The clerical and likewise the religious state is despised by all and no one is inclined to offer himself for this life.” “Oh, God who could ever have anticipated the coming of such a time! Everything is ruined, everything is in confusion, and there is nothing but sunderings, splits and heresies everywhere!” Yet these words come from the same author, who, in 1518, in the introduction to his Annals of Alderspach, had been so enthusiastic about the state of learning in Germany and had said: “Germany is richly blessed with the gifts of Minerva and disputes the palm in the literary arena with the Italians and the Greeks.” Whereas, between the years 1460-1514 no less than eighty brethren had entered Alderspach, Mayer, in his thirty years of office as Abbot, clothed only seventeen novices with the habit of St. Bernard, and, of these, five broke their vows and left the monastery. He expresses his fear that soon his religious house will be empty and ascribes the lack of novices largely to the fate which had overtaken the schools owing to the innovations.[92]
“Throughout the whole of the German lands,” as Luther himself admits: “No one will any longer allow his children to learn or to study.”[93] At the same time contemporaries bitterly bewailed the wildness of the students who still remained at the Universities. With regard to Wittenberg itself we have grievous complaints on this score from both Luther and Melanchthon.[94]
The disorder in the teaching institutions naturally had a bad effect on the education of the people, so that Luther’s efforts on behalf of the schools may readily be understood. The ecclesiastical Visitors of the Saxon Electorate had been forced to adopt stern measures in favour of the country schools. The Elector called to mind Luther’s admonitions, that he, as the “principal guardian of the young,” had authority to compel such towns and villages as possessed the means, to maintain schools, pulpits and parsonages, just as he might compel them to furnish bridges, high roads and footpaths.… “If, moreover, they have not the means,” so Luther had said, “there are the monastic lands which most of them were bestowed for this very purpose.”[95] But in spite of the measures taken by the Elector and the urgent demands of the theologians for State aid, even in towns like Wittenberg the condition of the intermediate educational institutions was anything but satisfactory. In the case of his own sons Luther had grudgingly to acknowledge that he was “at a loss to find a suitable school.”[96] He accordingly had recourse to young theologians as tutors.
The disappointment of the Humanists was keen and their lot a bitter one. They had cherished high hopes of the dawn of a new era for classical studies in Germany. Many had rejoiced at the alliance which had at first sprung up between the Humanist movement and the religious revolution, believing it would clear the field for learning. They now felt it all the more deeply seeing that the age, being altogether taken up with arid theological controversies and the pressing practical questions of the innovations, had no longer the slightest interest in the educational ideals of antiquity. The violent changes in every department of life which the religious upheaval brought with it could not but be prejudicial to the calm intellectual labours of which the Humanists had dreamed; the prospect of Mutian’s “Beata tranquillitas” had vanished.
Mutian, at one time esteemed as the leader of the Thuringian Humanists, retired into solitude and died in the utmost poverty (1526) after the Christian faith had, as it would appear, once more awakened in him. Eminent lawyers among the Humanists, Ulrich Zasius of Freiburg and Christopher Scheurl of Nuremberg, openly detached themselves from the Wittenbergers. Scheurl, who had once waxed so enthusiastic about the light which had dawned in Saxony, now declared confidentially to Catholic friends that Wittenberg was a cesspool of errors and intellectual darkness.[97] The reaction which the recognition of Luther’s real aims produced in other Humanists, such as Willibald Pirkheimer, Crotus Rubeanus, Ottmar Luscinius and Henricus Glareanus, has already been referred to.[98] It is no less true of the Humanists favourable to the Church than of those holding Lutheran views, that German Humanism was nipped in the bud by the ecclesiastical innovations. As Paulsen says: “Luther usurped the leadership [from the Humanists] and theology [that of the Protestants] drove the fine arts from the high place they had just secured; at the very moment of their triumph the Humanists saw the fruits of victory snatched from their grasp.”[99]
The event of greatest importance for the Humanists was, however, Erasmus’s open repudiation of Luther in 1523, and his attack on that point so closely bound up with all intellectual progress, viz. Luther’s denial of free-will.
Quite independent of this attack were the many and bitter complaints which the sight of the decline of his beloved studies drew from Erasmus: “The Lutheran faction is the ruin of our learning.”[100] “We see that the study of tongues and the love of fine literature is everywhere growing cold. Luther has heaped insufferable odium on it.”[101] He regrets the downfall of the schools at Nuremberg: “All this laziness came in with the new Evangel.”[102] He wished to have nothing more to do with these Evangelicals, he declares, because, through their doing, scholarship was everywhere being ruined. “These people [the preachers] are anxious for a living and a wife, for the rest they do not care a hair.”[103]
In the above year, 1523, at the beginning of his public estrangement with Erasmus, Luther had written: “Erasmus has done what he was destined to do; he has introduced the study of languages and recalled us from godless studies (‘a sacrilegis studiis’). He will in all likelihood die like Moses, in the plains of Moab [i.e. never see the Promised Land]. He is no leader to the higher studies, i.e. to piety”; in other words, unlike Luther, he was not able to lead his followers into the land of promise, where the enslaved will rules.[104]
Luther’s use of the term “sacrilega studia” invites us to cast a glance on the state of education before his day.
Higher Education before Luther’s Day
The condition of the schools before Luther, as described in our available sources, was very different from what Luther pictured to his readers in his works.
According to Luther’s polemical writings, learning in earlier days could not but be sacrilegious because Satan “was corrupting the young” in “his own nests, the monasteries and clerical resorts”; “he, the prince of this world, gave the young his good things and delights; the devil spread out his nets, established monasteries, schools and callings, in such a way that no boy could escape him.”[105] With this fantastic view, met with only too frequently in Luther under all sorts of shapes, goes hand in hand his wholesale reprobation and belittling of the olden methods and system of education. The professors at the close of the Middle Ages were only able, according to Luther, to “train up profligates and greedy bellies, rude donkeys and blockheads; all they could teach men was to be asses and to dishonour their wives, daughters and maids.” “People studied twenty or forty years and yet at the end of it all knew neither Latin nor German.” “Those ogres and kidnappers” set up libraries, but they were filled “with the filth and ordure of their obscene and poisonous books”; “the devil’s spawn, the monks and the spectres of the Universities” when conferring doctorates decked out “great fat loutish donkeys in red and brown hoods, like a sow pranked out with gold chains and pearls.” “The pupils and professors were as mad as the books on which they lectured. A jackdaw does not hatch out doves nor can a fool beget wise offspring.”
It is in his “An die Radherrn,” the object of which was to raise the standard of education, that we find such coarse language.
What is of more importance is that Luther seems here to be seeking to conceal the decline in learning which he had brought about, and to lay the blame solely on the olden schools. If the corruption had formerly been so great then some excuse might be found for the ruin which had followed his struggle with the Church.—Such an excuse, however, does not tally with the facts.
That, on the contrary, education, not only at the Universities, but also in the Latin schools, which Luther had more particularly in view, was in a flourishing condition and full of promise before it was so rudely checked by the religious disturbances which emptied all the schools, has been fully confirmed to-day by learned research. “The increased attendance at the Universities in the course of the 15th and the commencement of the 16th century is a very rapid one,” writes Franz Eulenburg. “Hence the decline in the ’twenties of the latter century is all the more noticeable.”[106] “At the beginning of the 16th century,” says Friedrich Paulsen, “everyone of any influence or standing, strength or courage, devoted himself to the new learning: prelates, sovereigns, the townships and, above all, the young”; but, shortly after the outbreak of the ecclesiastical revolution, “everything became changed.”[107]
What had contributed principally to a salutary revival had been the sterling work of the older Humanists. Eminent and thoroughly religious men of the schools—men like Alexander Hegius and his pupils and successors Rudolf von Langen, Ludwig Dringenberg, Johannes Murmellius and, particularly, Jakob Wimpfeling, who, on account of his epoch-making pedagogic work, was called the teacher of Germany—zealously made their own the humanistic ideal of making of the classics the centre of the education of the young, and of paving the way for a new intellectual life, by means of the instruction given in the schools.[108] An attempt was made to combine classical learning with devotion to the old religion and respect for the Church. They also strove to carry out—though not always successfully—the task which was assigned to the schools by the Lateran Council held under Leo X; the aim of the teacher was to be not merely to impart grammar, rhetoric and the other sciences, but at the same time to instil into those committed to their charge the fear of God and zeal for the faith.[109] The sovereigns and the towns placed their abundant means at the disposal of the new movement and so did the Church, which at that time was still a wealthy organisation.
The number of the schools and scholars in itself proves the interest taken by the nation in the relative prosperity of its education.
To take some instances from districts with which Luther must have been fairly well acquainted: Zwickau had a flourishing Latin school which, in 1490, numbered 900 pupils divided into four classes. In 1518 instruction was given there in Greek and Hebrew, and bequests, ecclesiastical and secular, for its maintenance continued to be made. The town of Brunswick had two Latin schools and, besides, three schools belonging to religious communities. At Nuremberg, towards the close of the 15th century, there were several Latin schools controlled by four rectors and twelve assistants; a new “School of Poetry” was added in 1515 under Johann Cochlæus. Augsburg also had five Church schools at the commencement of the 16th century, and besides this private teachers with a humanistic training were engaged in teaching Latin and the fine arts. At Frankfurt-on-the-Main there were, in 1478, three foundation schools with 318 pupils; the college at Schlettstadt in Alsace numbered 900 pupils in 1517 and Geiler of Kaysersberg and Jakob Wimpfeling were both educated there. At Görlitz in Silesia, at the close of the 15th century, the number of scholars varied between 500 and 600. Emmerich on the lower Rhine had, in 1510, approximately 450 pupils in its six classes, in 1521 about 1500. Münster in Westphalia, owing to the labours of its provost, Rudolf von Langen, became the focus and centre of humanistic effort, and, subsequent to 1512, had also its pupils divided into six classes.[110]
The “Brothers of the Common Life” established their schools over the whole of Northern Germany. Their institutions, with which Luther himself had the opportunity of becoming acquainted at Magdeburg, sent out some excellent schoolmasters. The schools of these religious at Deventer, Zwolle, Liège and Louvain were famous. The school of the brothers at Liège numbered in 1521 1600 pupils, assorted into eight classes.
In the lands of the Catholic princes many important grammar-schools withstood the storms of the religious revulsion, so that Luther’s statements concerning the total downfall of education cannot be accepted as generally correct, even subsequent to the first decades of the century.
Nor were even the elementary schools neglected at the close of the Middle Ages in most parts of the German Empire. Fresh accounts of such schools, in both town and country, are constantly cropping up to-day in the local histories. Constant efforts for their improvement and multiplication were made at this time. About a hundred regulations and charters of schools either in German, or in Dutch, dating from 1400-1521 have been traced. The popular religious handbooks were zealous in advocating the education of the people.[111] Luther himself tells us it was the custom to stir up the schoolmasters to perform their duty by saying that “to neglect a scholar is as bad as to seduce a maid.”[112]
Luther’s Success
Did Luther, by means of the efforts described above, succeed in bringing about any real improvement in the schools, particularly the Latin schools? The affirmative cannot be maintained. At least it was a long time before the reform which he desiderated came, and what reform took place seems to have been the result less of Luther’s exhortations than of Melanchthon’s labours.
On the whole his hopes were disappointed. The famous saying of Erasmus: “Wherever Lutheranism prevails, there we see the downfall of learning,”[113] remained largely true throughout the 16th century, in spite of all Luther’s efforts.
Schiele says: Where Melanchthon’s school-regulations for the Saxon Electorate were enforced without alteration, Latin alone was taught, “but neither German nor Greek nor Hebrew,” that the pupils might not be overtaxed. Instruction in history and mathematics was not insisted on at all. Bugenhagen added the rudiments of Greek and mathematics. Only about twenty years after Luther’s “An die Radherrn” do we hear something of attempts being made to improve matters in the Lutheran districts. As a rule all that was done even in the large towns was to amalgamate several moribund schools and give them a new charter. “Even towns like Nuremberg and Frankfurt were unable, in spite of the greatest sacrifices, to introduce a well-ordered system into the schools. The two most eminent, practical pedagogues of the time, Camerarius and Micyllus, could not check the decline of their council schools.”[114]
Nuremberg, the highly praised home of culture, may here be taken as a case in point, because it was to the syndic of this city that Luther addressed his second writing, praising the new Protestant gymnasium which had been established there (above, p. 6). Yet, in 1530, after it had been in existence some years, this same syndic, Lazarus Spengler, sadly wrote: “Are there not any intelligent Christians who would not be highly distressed that in a few short years, not Latin only, but all other useful languages and studies have fallen into such contempt? Nobody, alas, will recognise the great misfortune which, as I fear, we shall soon suffer, and which even now looms in sight.”[115] In the Gymnasium, which he had so much at heart, instruction was given free owing to the rich foundations, nevertheless but very few pupils were found to attend it. Eobanus Hessus, who was to have lent his assistance to promoting the cause of Humanism, left the town again in 1533. When Hessus before this complained to Erasmus that he had given offence to the town by his complaints of the low standard to which the school had fallen (above, p. 32), the latter replied in 1531, that he had received his information from the learned Pirkheimer and other friends of the professors there. He had indeed written that learning seemed to be only half alive there, in fact, at its last gasp, but he had done so in order by publishing the truth to spur them on to renewed zeal. “This I know, that at Liège and Paris learning is flourishing as much as ever. Whence then comes this torpor? From the negligence of those who boast of being Evangelicals. Besides, you Nurembergers have no reason to think yourselves particularly offended by me, for such complaints are to be heard from the lips of every honest man of every town where the Evangelicals rule.”[116] Camerarius, whom Melanchthon wished to be the soul of the school, turned his back on it in 1535 on account of the hopeless state of things. J. Poliander said in 1540: In Nuremberg, that populous and well-built city, there are rich livings and famous professors, but owing to the lack of students the institution there has dwindled away. “The lecturers left it, which caused much disgrace and evil talk to the people of Nuremberg, as everybody knows.”[117] When Melanchthon stayed for a while at Nuremberg in 1552 by order of the Elector, the Gymnasium was a picture of desolation. In the school regulations issued by the magistrates the pupils were reproached with contempt of divine service, blasphemy, persistent defiance of school discipline, etc., and with being “barbarous, rude, wild, wanton, bestial and sinful.” Camerarius even wrote from Leipzig advising the town-council to break up the school.[118]
There is no doubt that in other districts where Lutheranism prevailed Latin schools were to be found where good discipline reigned and where masters and pupils alike worked with zeal; the records, however, have far more to say of the decline.
Many statements of contemporaries well acquainted with the facts speak most sadly of the then conditions. Melanchthon complained more and more that shortsighted Lutheran theologians stood in the way of the progress of the schools. Camerarius, in a letter to George Fabricius, rector of Meissen, said in 1555 that it was plain everything was conspiring for the destruction of Germany, that religion, learning, discipline and honesty were doomed. As one of the principal causes he instances “the neglect and disgust shown for that learning, which, in reality, is the glory and ornament of man.” “It is looked upon as tomfoolery and a thing fit only for children to play with.” “Education, and life in general, too, has become quite other from what we were accustomed to in our boyhood.” Of the Catholic times he speaks with enthusiasm: “What zeal at one time inspired the students and in what honour was learning held; what hardships men were ready to endure in order to acquire but a modicum of scholarship is still to-day a matter of tradition. Now, on the other hand, learned studies are so little thought of owing to civil disturbances and inward dissensions that it is only here and there that they have escaped complete destruction.”[119]
What he says is abundantly confirmed by the accounts of the failure of educational effort at Augsburg, Esslingen, Basle, Stuttgart, Tübingen, Ansbach, Heilbronn and many other towns.
The efforts made were, however, not seldom ill-advised. If it be really a fact that the Latin “Colloquia” of Erasmus, which Luther himself had condemned for its frivolity, “played a principal part in the education of the schoolboys,”[120] then, indeed, it is not surprising that the results did not reach expectations. The crude polemics against the olden Church and the theological controversies associated with the names of Luther and Melanchthon, which penetrated into the schools owing to the squabbles of the professors and preachers, also had a bad effect. Again education was hampered by being ever subordinated to the interests of a “pure faith” which was regarded as its mainstay, but which was itself ever changing its shape and doctrines.[121]
“The form of education required for future ministers,” says Schiele, “became the chief thing, and education as such was consequently obliged to take a back seat.” “At the Universities it was only theology that flourished,” the olden Hellenists died out and the young were, in many places, only permitted to attend the “orthodox” Universities. Among the Lutherans the Latin schools were soon no longer able to compete with the colleges of the Jesuits and the Calvinists. Not a single Lutheran rector or master of note is recorded in the annals of the history of education. It is true that the so-called Küster-schools spread throughout the land simultaneously with the spread of orthodoxy. But when we see how the orthodox clergy despised their catechetical duties as of secondary importance, and hastened to delegate them as far as possible to the Küster [parish-clerk], it becomes impossible for us to regard such schools as a proof of any interest in education on the part of the orthodox, rather the contrary. How otherwise can we explain, even when we take into account the unfavourable conditions of the age, that, a hundred years after Luther’s day, far fewer people were able to read his writings than at the time when he first came forward.[122]
In the elementary schools which gradually came into being the parish-clerk gave instruction in reading and writing, and, in addition, tried to teach the catechism by reciting it aloud and making the children repeat it after him. The earliest definite regulations which imposed this duty on the clerk in addition to the catechism were those issued by Duke Christopher of Würtemberg in 1559, who also devoted his attention to the founding of German schools. The latter, however, were not intended for the smaller villages, nor did they receive any support from the “poor box.” Nor did all the children attend the schools kept by the clerk. The school regulations issued by the Protestant Duke were in themselves good, but their effect was meagre.[123] In the Saxon Electorate it was only in 1580 that the parish-clerks of the villages were directed to keep a school.[124]
Finally, to come to the Protestant Universities; it was only in the latter part of the 16th century that the attendance, which, as we saw above, had fallen so low, began once more to make a better show.
In 1540 Melanchthon expressed himself as satisfied with the condition of learning which prevailed in them.[125] But among others whose opinion was less favourable we find Luther’s friend Justus Jonas, who, two years before this, in 1538, wrote, that, since the Evangel had begun to make its way through Germany, the Universities were silent as the grave.[126] The testimony of Rudolf Walther, a Swiss, who had visited many German Universities and been on terms of intimacy with eminent Protestant theologians, must also receive special attention. In 1568 he wrote—though his words may perhaps be somewhat discounted by his own theological isolation—“The German Universities are now in such a state that, to say nothing of the conceit and carelessness of the professors and the impudent immorality which prevails, they are in no way remarkable. Heidelberg, however, is praised more than the others, for the attacks which menace her on all sides do not allow this University to slumber.”[127]
Heidelberg was the chief educational centre of those who held Calvinistic views. Since 1580 the attendance at the University had notably increased owing to the influx of students from abroad. Towards the close of the century, with Wittenberg and Jena, it headed the list of the Universities of the new faith in respect of the number of matriculations. Jena, like its sister Universities of Marburg, Königsberg and Helmstädt, had been founded as a seminary of Protestant theology and at the same time of Roman law, which served to strengthen the absolutism of the princes. Since the appointment of Flacius Illyricus in 1557 it had become a stronghold of pure Lutheranism. The theological squabbles within the bosom of Protestantism, here as in the other Universities, were, however, disastrous to peace, and any healthy progress. Characteristic of the treatment meted out to the professors by Protestant statesmen of a different opinion, even when they were not summarily dismissed, is the discourse of the Saxon Chancellor, Christian Brück, to the professors of the theological Faculty at Jena in 1561: “You black, red and yellow knaves and rascals! A plague upon you all you shameless scamps and rebels! Would that you were knocked on the head, disgraced and blinded!”[128]
The University of Wittenberg now registered the largest number of students. Although on Luther’s first public appearance crowds of students had been attracted by the fame of his name, yet these decreased to such an extent that between 1523 and 1533 not a single theological degree was conferred. About 1550, however, the Faculties again numbered about 2000 students, thanks chiefly to Melanchthon. In 1598 the number is even given as exceeding 2000. Throughout the whole of the century, from the beginning of the ecclesiastical schism, a considerable percentage of students had poured in from abroad. Of the wantonness of the Wittenberg students of the various Faculties, contemporaries as well as official documents wax so eloquent that the University would seem to have enjoyed an unenviable notoriety in this respect among the Protestant educational establishments.[129] The fact that, as just mentioned, the students were largely recruited from other countries must be taken into account. Wittenberg suffered more than the other Universities from the quarrels which, according to Luther, tore to pieces Protestant theology. What was said in a sermon in 1571 on the words “Peace be with you” is peculiarly applicable to Wittenberg: “Only see what quarrelling and envy, hatred, and persecution, and expulsion there has been, and still is, among the professors at Wittenberg, Jena, Frankfurt-on-the-Oder, Königsberg and indeed all the Universities which really should be flourishing in the light of our beloved Evangel; it would indeed be a great and heavenly work of God if all the young men at these Universities did not fall into such vices, and even become utterly corrupted.”[130]