5. Luther’s Attitude towards Worldly Callings

An attempt has been made to prove the truth of the dictum so often met with on the lips of Protestants, viz. that “Luther was the creator of those views of the world and life on which both the State and our modern civilisation rest,” by arguing, that, at least, he made an end of contempt for worldly callings and exalted the humbler as well as the higher spheres of life at the expense of the ecclesiastical and monastic. What Luther himself frequently states concerning his discovery of the dignity of the secular callings has elsewhere been placed in its true light (and the unhistoric accounts of his admirers are all in last resort based on his). This was done in the most suitable place, viz. when dealing with “Luther and Lying,” and with his spiteful caricature of the mediæval Church.[188] Still, for the sake of completeness, the claims Luther makes in this respect, and some new proofs in refutation of them, must be briefly called to mind in the present chapter. It is not unusual for his admirers to speak with a species of awe of Luther’s achievements in this respect:

One of the most Momentous Achievements of the Reformation

The claims Luther makes in respect of his labours on behalf of the worldly callings are even greater than his admirers would lead one to suppose. His actual words reveal their hyperbolical character, or rather untruth, by their very extravagance.

Luther we have heard say: “Such honour and glory have I by the grace of God, that, since the time of the Apostles no doctor … has confirmed and instructed the consciences of the secular estates so well and lucidly as I.”[189]—It was quite different with the “monks and priestlings”! They “damned both the laity and their calling.” These “revolutionary blasphemers” condemned “all the states of life that God instituted and ordained”; on the other hand, they extol their self-chosen and accursed state as though outside of it no one could be saved.[190]

The phantom of a Popish, monkish holiness-by-works never left him. In his Commentary on Genesis, though he holds that he has already taught the Papists more than they deserve on the right appreciation of the lower callings and labours, yet he once more informs them of his discovery, “that the work of the household and of the burgher,” such as hospitality, the training of children, the supervision of servants, “despised though they be as common and worthless,” are also well-pleasing to God. “Such things must be judged according to the Word [of God], not according to reason!… Let us therefore thank God that we, enlightened by the Word, now perceive what are really good works, viz. obedience to those in authority, respect for parents, supervision of the servants and assistance of our brethren.” “These are callings instituted by God.” “When the mother of a family provides diligently for her family, looks after the children, feeds them, washes them and rocks them in the cradle,” this calling, followed for God’s sake, is “a happy and a holy one.”[191]

Luther is never tired of claiming as his peculiar teaching that even the most humble calling—that of the maid or day-labourer—may prove a high and exalted road to heaven and that every kind of work, however insignificant, performed in that position of life to which a man is called is of great value in God’s sight when done in faith. He is fond of repeating, that a humble ploughman can lay up for himself as great a treasure in heaven by tilling his field, as the preacher or the schoolmaster, by their seemingly more exalted labours.

There is no doubt, that, by means of this doctrine, which undoubtedly is not without foundation, he consoled many of the lower classes, and brought them to a sense of their dignity as Christians. It is true that it was his polemics against monasticism and the following of the counsels of perfection which led him to make so much of the ordinary states of life and to paint them in such glowing colours. Nevertheless, we must admit that he does so with real eloquence and by means of comparisons and figures taken from daily life which could not but lend attraction to the truth and which differ widely from the dry, scholastic tone of some of his Catholic predecessors in this field.

He does not, however, really add a single fresh element to the olden teaching, or one that cannot be traced back to earlier times.

Either Luther was not aware of this, or else he conceals it from his hearers and readers. It would have been possible to confront him with a whole string of writers, ancient and mediæval, and even from the years when he himself began his work, whose writings teach the same truths, often, too, in language which leaves nothing more to be wished for on the score of impressiveness and feeling.[192] So many proofs, from reason as well as from revelation, had always been forthcoming in support of these truths that it is hard for us now to understand how the idea gained ground that Christians had forgotten them. Those who, down to the present day, repeat Luther’s assertions make too little account of this psychological riddle.

Here we shall merely add to what has already been brought forward a few further proofs from Luther’s own day.

Andreas Proles (†1503), Vicar General of the Saxon Augustinian Congregation and founder of the reformed branch which Luther himself joined on entering the monastery, reminds the working classes in one of his sermons of the honour, the duty, and the worth of work. “Since man is born to labour as the bird to fly, he must work unceasingly and never be idle.” He warmly exhorts the secular authorities to prayer, but reminds them still more emphatically of the requirements and the dignity of their calling: “The life of the mighty does not consist in parade but in ruling and discharging their duties towards their people.” He praises voluntary chastity and clerical celibacy, but also points out powerfully that the married state “is for many reasons honourable and praiseworthy in the sight of God and all Christians.”[193]

Gottschalk Hollen, the preacher of Westphalia, was also an Augustinian. In his sermons published at Hagenau in 1517 he displays the highest esteem for the worldly callings. Those classes who worked with their hands did not seem to him in the least contemptible, on the contrary the Christian could give glory to God even by the humblest work; ordinary believers frequently allowed their calling to absorb them in worldly things, but these are not evil or blameworthy. In a special sermon on work he represents such cares as a means of attaining to everlasting salvation. He insists everywhere on a man’s performing the duties of his calling and will not allow of their being neglected for the sake of prayer or of out-of-the-way practices, such as pilgrimages.[194]

Just before Luther made his public appearance two German works of piety described the dignity and the honour of the working state and at the same time insisted on the obligation of labour. They speak of the secular callings as a source of moral and religious duty and the foundation of a happy life well pleasing to God.

The “Wyhegertlin,” printed at Mayence in 1509, says: “When work is done diligently and skilfully both God and man take pleasure in it, and it is a real good work when skilful artisans contribute to God’s glory by their handicraft, by beautiful buildings and images of every kind, and soften men’s hearts so that they take pleasure in the beautiful, and regard every art and handicraft as a gift of God for the profit, comfort and edification of man.”—“For seeing that the Saints also worked and laboured, so shall the Christian learn from their example that by honourable labour he can glorify God, do good and, through God’s mercy, save his own soul.”[195]

In an “Ermanung” of 1513, which also appeared at Mayence, we read: “To work is to serve God according to His command and therefore all must work, the one with his hands, in the field, the house or the workshop, others by art and learning, others again as rulers of the people or other authorities, others by fighting in defence of their country, others again as ghostly ministers of Christ in the churches and monasteries.… Whoever stands idle is a despiser of God’s commands.”[196]

These instances must suffice. Though many others could be quoted, Protestants will, nevertheless, still be found to repeat such statements as the following: “Any appreciation of secular work as something really moral was impossible in the Catholic Church.” “The Catholic view of the Church belittled the secular callings.” “The ethical appreciation of one’s calling is a significant achievement of the reformation on which rests the present division of society.” Luther it was who “discovered the true meaning of callings … which has since become the property of the civilised world.” “The modern ethical conception of one’s calling, which is common to all Protestant nations and which all others lack, was a creation of the reformation,” etc.

Others better acquainted with the Middle Ages have argued, that, though the olden theologians expressed themselves correctly on the importance of secular callings, yet theirs was not the view of the people.—But the above passages, like those previously quoted elsewhere, do not hail from theologians quite ignorant of the world, but from sermons and popular writings. What they reflect is simply the popular ideas and practice.

That errors were made is, of course, quite true. That, at a time when the Church stood over all, the excessive and ill-advised zeal of certain of the clergy and religious did occasionally lead them to belittle unduly the secular callings may readily be admitted; what they did furnished some excuse for the Lutheran reaction.

What above all moved Luther was, however, the fact that he himself had become a layman.

To assert that even the very words “calling” or “vocation” in their modern sense were first coined by him is not in agreement with the facts of the case.

On the contrary, Luther found the German equivalents already current, otherwise he would probably not have introduced them into his translation of the Bible, as he was so anxious to adapt himself to the language in common use amongst the people so as to be perfectly understood by them.[197] It is true that Ecclus. xi. 22, in the pre-Lutheran Bible, e.g. that of Augsburg dating from 1487, was rendered: “Trust God and stay in thy place,” whereas in Luther’s—and on this emphasis has been laid—we read: “Trust in God and abide by thy calling.” All that can be said is, however, that Luther’s translation here brings out the same meaning rather better. That the word was not coined by Luther, but was common with the people, is clear from what Luther himself says incidentally when speaking of 1 Cor. vii. 20, where the word vocatio (κλῆσις) is used of the call to faith. “And you must know,” he writes, “that the word ‘calling’ does not here mean the state to which a man is called, as when we say your calling is the married state, your calling is the clerical state, etc., each one having his calling from God. It is not of such a calling that the Apostle here speaks,” etc. The expression “as we say” shows plainly that Luther is speaking of a quite familiar term which there was no need for him to invent when translating Ecclus. xi. 22. Much less did he, either then or at any time, invent the “conception of a calling.”

Luther’s Pessimism Regarding Various Callings. The Peasants

When olden writers dealt with the relation between the Gospel and the worldly callings as a rule they pointed out with holy pride, that Christianity does not merely esteem every calling very highly but embraces them all with holy charity and cherishes and fosters the various states as sons of a common father. Nothing was so attractive in the great exponents of the Gospel teaching and renovators of the Christian people—for instance in St. Francis of Assisi—as their sympathy, respect and tenderness for every class without exception. The Church’s great men knew how to discover the good in every class, to further it with the means at their disposal and indulgently to set it on its guard against its dangers. They wished to place everything lovingly at the service of the Creator.

Had Luther in reality brought back to humanity the Gospel true and undefiled, as he was so fond of saying, then he should surely have striven, in the spirit of charity and good will, to make known its supernatural social forces to all classes of men, and to become, as the Apostle says, “All things to all men.”

Now, although Luther uses powerful words to describe the dignity of the different worldly callings, on the other hand, he tends at times to depreciate whole classes, this being especially the case when he allows his disappointment to get the better of him. Nor is the contempt openly expressed here counterbalanced by any sufficient recognition of the good, such as might have mollified his hearers and made them forget the ungracious abuse he thundered from his pulpit.

He speaks bitterly of the common people, the proletariate of to-day, to which, according to him, belonged all the lower classes in the towns. Although himself of low extraction he displays very little sympathy for the people. “We must not pipe too much to the mob, for they are fond of raging.… They have no idea of self-restraint or how to exercise it, and each one’s skin conceals five tyrants.”[198] “A donkey must taste the stick and the mob must be ruled by force; of this God was well aware, hence in the hands of the authorities He placed, not a fox’s brush, but a sword.”[199]

He only too frequently accuses the artisan and merchant class, as a whole, of cheating, avarice and laziness. At Wittenberg they may possibly have been exceptionally bad, yet he does not speak sufficiently of their less blameworthy side.

For the soldiers, it is true, he has friendly words of appreciation of their calling; it was for them that he wrote in 1526 a special work, where he replied in the affirmative to the question contained in the title: “Can even men-at-arms be in a state of grace?” Yet even here he does not shrink from bringing forward charges against their calling: “A great part of the men-at-arms are the devil’s own and some of them are actually crammed with devils.… They imagine themselves fire-eaters because they swear shamefully, perpetrate atrocities, and curse and defy the God of Heaven.”[200]

Of the nobles he says in 1523, wishing to promote more frequent marriages between them and those of lower birth:[201] “Must all princes and nobles who are born princes and nobles remain for ever such? What harm is there if a prince takes a burgher’s daughter to wife and contents himself with a burgher’s modest dowry? Or, why should not a noble maid give her hand to a burgher? In the long run it will not do for the nobles always to intermarry with nobles. Although we are not all equal in the sight of the world yet before God we all are equal, all of us children of Adam, creatures of God, and one man as good as another.” These words certainly do not express any lively conviction of the importance of the existing distinctions of rank for society.

It is perfectly true, that, occasionally, Luther has words of praise and recognition for the good qualities of the “fine, pious nobles,” if only on account of those who were inclined to accept his teaching. But far more often he trounces them unmercifully because they either failed to respond or were set on thwarting him. The language in which he writes of them sometimes becomes unspeakably coarse. “They are called nobles and ‘von so-and-so.’ But merd also comes ‘von’ the nobles and might just as well boast of coming from their noble belly, though it stinks and is of no earthly use. Hence this too has a claim to nobility.” Then follows his favourite saying: “We Germans are Germans and Germans we shall remain, i.e. swine and senseless brutes.”[202]

The rulers and the great ones of the Empire were the first to win his favour. The writing “An den Adel,” the first of his so-called “reformation writings,” he addresses to the nobles in the hope of thus attaining his aims by storm. When, however, he was disappointed, and they refused to meet him half-way, he abused the princes and all the secular authorities in Germany and wrote: “God Almighty has made our princes mad”; “such men were formerly rated as knaves, now we are obliged to call them obedient, Christian princes.” To him they were “fools,” simply because they were against him and thus belonged to the multitude who “blasphemed” the Divine Majesty.[203]

After the defeat of the peasants in 1525 he supported those princes favourable to his teaching at the expense of the peasants, so that the latter were loud in their complaints of him. In this connection, looking back at the overthrow of the Peasant Revolt, he wrote to those in power: “Who opposed the peasants more vigorously by word and writing than I? … and, if it comes to boasting, I do not know who else was the first to vanquish the peasants, or to do so most effectually. But now those who did the least claim all the honour and glory of it.”[204]

After the Peasant War he was so filled with hatred of the peasant class and so conscious of their dislike for himself personally, as to be hardly able to speak of them without blame and reproach. “The peasants do not deserve,” he says, “the harvests and fruits that the earth brings forth and provides.”

Of all classes the peasants around Wittenberg incurred his displeasure most severely. “They are all going to the devil,” he says when lamenting that, “out of so many villages, only one man taught his household from the Word of God”; with the young country folk “something” could be done, but the old peasants had been utterly corrupted by the Pope; this was also the complaint of the Evangelical deacons who came in touch with them.[205]—“I am very angry with the peasants,” he wrote in 1529, “who are anxious to govern themselves and who do not appreciate their good fortune in being able to sleep in peace owing to the help and protection of the rulers. You helpless, boorish yokels and donkeys,” he says to them, “will you never learn to understand? May the lightning blast you!—You have the best of it.… You have the Mark and yet are so ungrateful as to refuse to pray for the rulers or to give them anything.”[206]

As a matter of fact, however, the great ones did not wait for the peasants to “give” anything.

They oppressed the country people and plundered them. Melanchthon wrote, particularly after 1525, of the boundless despotism of the authorities over the people on the land. Since the overthrow of the social revolution very sad changes had taken place among the agriculturists. The violent “laying of the yokels” became a general evil, and, in place of the small holdings of the peasant class—the most virile and largest portion of the nation—arose the large estates of the nobles. Not merely where the horrors of war had raged, but even elsewhere, e.g. in the north-east of Germany, the peasant found himself deprived of his rights and left defenceless in the hands of the Junkers and knights.[207] “The reformation-age made his rights to his property and his standing more parlous than before.”[208]

What Luther says of serfdom, the oppression and abuse of which had led to the Peasant Rising, is worthy of record: “Serfdom,” he says, “is not contrary to Christianity, and whoever says it is tells a lie!”[209]—“Christ does not wish to abolish serfdom. What cares He how the lords or princes rule [in secular matters]?”[210]

He makes a strict application of this in his sermons on Genesis, where he even represents serfdom as a desirable state. Luther delivered these sermons in 1524 and they were printed from notes in 1527. In his preface he declares, that he was “quite willing” they should be published because they express his “sense and mind.” He relates in one passage how Abimelech had bestowed “sheep and oxen, men-servants and maid-servants” on Abraham (xx. 14), and then goes on to say of the people made over: “They too were all personal property like other cattle, so that their owners might sell them as they liked, and it would verily be almost best that this stage of things should be revived, for nobody can control or tame the populace in any other way.” Abraham did not set free the men-servants and maid-servants given him, and yet he was accounted amongst the “pious and holy” and was “a just ruler.” He proceeds: “They [the patriarchs] might easily have abolished it so far as they were concerned, but that would not have been a good thing, for the serfs would have become too proud had they been given so many rights, and would have thought themselves equal to the patriarchs or to their children. Each one must be kept in his place, as God has ordained, sons and daughters, servants, maids, husbands, wives, etc.… If compulsion and the law of the strong arm still ruled (in the case of servants and retainers) as in the past, so that if a man dared to grumble he got a box on the ear—things would fare better; otherwise it is all of no use. If they take wives, these are impertinent people, wild and dissolute, whom no one can use or have anything to do with.”[211]

The Psychological Background. Luther’s Estrangement from Whole Classes of Society

Both in Luther’s treatment of the peasants of his day and in his whole attitude to different classes of society, we find the traces of a profound and general depression which had seized upon him and which seems to accord ill with the sense of triumph one would have expected in him at the continued progress of his work, and at the apostasy from the Roman Church. Such expressions of dissatisfaction become more frequent as years go by and serve to some extent to explain and excuse his pessimism concerning the different classes.

This feeling had its origin, apart from other causes, in the fact that Luther little by little lost touch with whole classes of the people, while to many of the new conditions he remained a stranger. He, who had held in his hands the destiny of so many, was, in fact, becoming to a great extent isolated, particularly since the actual direction of the new Church had been taken out of his hands and vested in the princes or municipal authorities.

Not only did the rift which separated him from the peasants subsequent to 1525 become ever more pronounced, but he found hostility and dislike growing between himself and other classes of society.

Under the influence of the adverse wind blowing from Wittenberg many of the Humanists had given up their at one time enthusiastic friendship and turned against him. Catholic scholars who had once been disposed to favour the reform but had been disappointed in their hopes withdrew from him in increasing numbers. In other districts which had been recently Protestantised the country clergy remained faithful to the olden Church, as we see, for instance, from a letter of Luther’s dated Sep. 19, 1539, where he speaks of “over five hundred parsons, poisonous Papists,” who had “been left unexamined and now are raising their horns in defiance”—but who, he hopes, will soon be forcibly sent about their business.[212] In his own camp, again, there were Anabaptists and other sectarians; there were also theologians who refused to fall into line and either failed to preach on faith and works as harshly as he wished, or, running to the opposite extreme like the Antinomians, went much further than he himself. In the Saxon Electorate Luther felt grievously the decease of those Councillors, like Pfeffinger and Feilitzsch, who had been well disposed towards him, whose places were now taken by “greedy Junkers and skinflints, who looked upon the ecclesiastical revolution as a good opportunity for increasing their family estates and for running riot at others’ expense.”[213] Among the princes who had apostatised from the Church he also detected to his bitter vexation an ever-growing tendency to separate themselves from Wittenberg, partly owing to the influence of Zwinglianism, partly in consequence of their independent Church regulations. Such was, for instance, the action of Berlin, where the Protestant Elector, Joachim II of Brandenburg, declared in an address to his clergy: “As little as I mean to be bound to the Roman Church, so little do I mean to be bound to the Church of Wittenberg. I do not say: ‘credo sanctam Romanam’ or ‘Wittenbergensem,’ but ‘catholicam ecclesiam,’ and my Church here at Berlin or at Cöllen is just as much a true Christian Church as that of the Wittenbergers.”[214]

In the sermon Luther preached at Wittenberg on June 18, 1531, he pours forth the vials of his wrath on the nobles and peasants of the new faith. He was then doing duty for Bugenhagen, the absent pastor, and devoting himself to preaching, though he describes himself in a letter as “old, sickly and tired of life,” and elsewhere, alluding to his many employments, says: “I am not only Luther, but Pomeranus, Vicar-General, Moses, Jethro and I know not who else besides.”[215]

In this sermon the Gospel of Dives and Lazarus recalls to his mind the fact that, in the Saxon Electorate, he and his preachers were being treated very much as Lazarus, whom the rich man left lying at his gate and who had to get his fill of the crumbs that fell from the rich man’s table. “When we complain to the great, we get only kicks,” he exclaims indignantly; “our foes would gladly put a stop to the Evangel with the sword, whilst our own people would no less gladly cut off our head, like John the Baptist, only that the sword they use is want, misery and hunger.” If we preach against their wickedness they say we are trying to defy and contradict them! Let the devil defy them. They declare we want to set ourselves up against them, and to rule, and to bring them under our feet. For preaching against the rebellious peasants we are thanked by being called the Pope of Germany, as though we were playing the master. Not indeed that they mean this in earnest, but they are anxious to bring us to preach as they wish, otherwise they punish us with starvation. “The poor preachers they tread under foot, take the bread out of their mouths and abuse them most shamefully.” “This ingratitude is worse than any tyranny!” He tells them finally that their fate will be that of Dives, viz. hell-fire; then they will long in vain even for a drop of water.[216]

The world hates me, we read in another sermon, for it ever “hates the good.” “They refuse to have anything to do with the ministers [of religion], there is hardly a place where they suffer the preacher, much less support him. My opponents declare that: Did I preach the truth, the people would become pious.” This is the Anabaptists’ way of concealing their own errors. “But do not wonder,” so he consoles his hearers, for “the purer the Word, the worse almost all become; only a few become good. This is a sure sign that the doctrine is true; … for Satan, who is stung by the truth, tries to wreck it by corruption of morals.… He it is who sets himself up in defiance of it.” “But there are some few who are faithful and in earnest.” Nevertheless, the world must heap ingratitude and bitterness upon us otherwise it would not be the world. “By my preaching I have helped several, but what can I do? If you wait till the world honours you, then you wait a long time and only prepare a cross for yourself.”[217]

In a sermon on Jan. 22 of the same year he had quoted a saying current at that time about Rome, applying it to Wittenberg: “The nearer to Rome, the worse the Christians.” “For wherever the Evangel is, there it is despised.” “The Lord Himself says in to-day’s Gospel: ‘I have not found such faith as this in Israel.’ The chosen people do not believe, though some few do.… In other regions Christ may find adherents with a stronger faith than any in our principalities.” “At Court and elsewhere things go ill.… We tread the pearls under foot.” “So great is their shamelessness, ingratitude and hate that it is a sign that God is getting ready to show us something; the persecution of the Evangel in our principality is worse than ever. I am already sick of preaching (‘iam tædet me prædicatio’).” “Those who refuse the offered kingdom may go to the devil, etc.”[218] The faults of the government and the increase in the prices of necessaries drew from him bitter words in a sermon of April 23 of the same year: “There is no government, the biggest criminals (‘pessimi nebulones’) rule; this we have deserved by our sins.” “When things become cheaper then war and pestilence will come upon us.”[219]

Thus the ill will gathering within him was poured forth, as occasion offered, on the various classes indiscriminately.

It seemed to him as though little by little the whole world was becoming a hostel of which the devil was the landlord and where wickedness and lust reigned supreme—above all because it was so slow to receive his preaching.[220] Even the supreme Court of Justice of the Empire became in 1541 a “devil’s whore,”[221] because the judges and imperial authorities were against him and stood for the old order of things. It was also at this time that his pent-up anger broke out against the Jews.[222] Here it will be sufficient to give a few new quotations.

He put himself in the place of a ruler in whose lands the Jews blasphemed Christianity and exclaimed: “I would summon all the Jews and ask them,” whether they could prove their insulting assertions. “If they could, I would give them a thousand florins; if not I would have their tongues torn out by the root. In short, we ought not to suffer Jews to live amongst us, nor eat or drink with them.”[223]—“They are a shameful people,” he says on another occasion, “they swallow up everything with their usury; where they give a gentleman a thousand florins, they suck twenty thousand out of his poor underlings.”[224] The demands with which his anger against the Jews inspires him found only too strong an echo amongst his followers. “It would be well,” wrote the Lutheran preacher Jodokus Ehrhardt in 1558, after complaining of the usury of the Jews, “if in all places they were proceeded with as Father Luther advised and enjoined when, amongst other things, he wrote: ‘Let their synagogues and schools be set on fire … and let who can throw brimstone.… Refuse them safe conduct and all freedom to travel. Let all their ready money and treasures of gold and silver, etc., be taken from them,’ etc. Such faithful counsels and regulations were given by our divinely enlightened Luther.”[225]

After all that has been said it would be very rash to apply to Luther’s attitude towards the different callings and professions the words which St. Paul wrote of himself when considering humanity as a whole, i.e. of the power of God by which he had striven with endless patience and charity to bring home the Gospel to both Jew and Greek: “To the Greeks and to the barbarians, to the wise and to the foolish I am a debtor.” “I have become all things to all men in order to save all.”

The Merchant Class

The opening up of many previously unknown countries, the discovery of new trade routes, and the new industries called forth by new inventions brought about a sudden and quite unforeseen revival in trade and prosperity at the time of the religious schism. An alteration in the earlier ideas on political economy was bound to supervene. The upsetting of the mediæval notions which now could no longer hold and the uncertainty as to what to build on in future led to a deal of confusion in that period of transition.

What was chiefly needed in the case of one anxious to judge of things from their ethical and social side was experience and knowledge of the world joined with prudence and the spirit of charity. Annoyance was out of place; what was called for was a capacity to weigh matters dispassionately.

Among the Humanists there were some, who, because the new era of commerce turned men’s minds from learning, condemned it absolutely. Thus Eobanus Hessus of Nuremberg laments, that, there, people were bent on acquiring riches rather than learning; the world dreamt of nothing but saffron and pepper; he lived, as it were, among “empurpled monkeys” and would rather make his home with the peasants of his Hessian fatherland than in his present surroundings.[226]—What was Luther’s attitude towards the rising merchant class and its undertakings?

In his case it was not merely the injury done to the schools and to “Christian” posterity, and the ever growing luxury that prejudiced him against commerce, but, above all, the constant infringement of the principles of morality, which, according to him, was a necessary result of the new economic life and its traffic in wares and money. He exaggerated the moral danger and failed entirely to see the economic side of the case. We do not find in him, says Köstlin-Kawerau, “a sufficient insight into the existing conditions and problems,”[227] nevertheless he did not shrink from the harshest and most uncharitable censure.

It was his deliberate intention, so he says, “to give scandal to many more people on this point by setting up the true doctrine of Christ.” This we find in a letter he wrote after the Leipzig Disputation when putting the finishing touch to his first works on usury (1519).[228] Because no attention was paid to his “Evangelical” ideas on usury he came to the conclusion that, “now, in these days, clergy and seculars, prelates and subjects are alike bent on thwarting Christ’s life, doctrine and Gospel.”[229] Hence he must once again vindicate the Gospel. He, however, distorts the Christian idea by making into strict commands what Christ had proposed as counsels of perfection. There is reason to believe that the mistake he here makes under the plea of zeal for the principles of the Gospel is bound up not merely with his antipathy to the idea of Evangelical Counsels,[230] but also with his older, pseudo-mystic tendency and with his conception of the true Christian. We cannot help thinking of his fanciful plan of assembling apart the real Christians when we hear him in these very admonitions bewailing that “there are so few Christians”; if anyone refused to lend gratis it was “a sign of his deep unbelief,” since we are assured that by so doing “we become children of the Most High and that our reward is great. Of such a consoling promise he is not worthy who will not believe and act accordingly.”[231]

In any case it was a quite subjective and unfounded application of Holy Scripture, when, in his sermon on usury, he makes the following the chief point to be complied with:

“Christian dealings with temporal possessions,” he there says, “consist in three things, in giving for nothing, lending free of interest and lovingly allowing our belongings to be taken from us [Matt. v. 40, 42; Luke vi. 30]; for there is no merit in your buying something, inheriting it, or gaining possession of it in some other honest way, since, if this were piety, then the heathen and Turks would also be pious.”[232]

This extravagant notion of the Christian’s duties led to his rigid and untimely vindication of the mediæval prohibition of the charging of interest, of which we shall have to speak more fully later. It also led him to assail all commercial enterprise.

Greatly incensed at the action of the trading companies he set about writing his “Von Kauffshandlung und Wucher” (1524).

Here, speaking of the wholesale traders and merchants, he says: “The foreign trade that brings wares from Calicut, India and so forth, such as spices and costly fabrics of silk and cloth of gold, which serve only for display and are of no use, but merely suck the money out of our country and people, would not be allowed had we a government and real rulers.” The Old Testament patriarchs indeed bought and sold, he says, but “only cattle, wool, grain, butter, milk and such like; these are God’s gifts which He raises from the earth and distributes among men”; but the present trade means only the “throwing away of our gold and silver into foreign countries.”[233]

Traders were, according to him, in a bad case from the moral point of view: “Let no one come and ask how he may with a good conscience belong to one of these companies. There is no other counsel than this: ‘Drop it’; there is no other way. If the companies are to go on, then that will be the end of law and honesty; if law and honesty are to remain, then the companies must cease.” The companies, so he had already said, are through and through “unstable and without foundation, all rank avarice and injustice, so that they cannot even be touched with a good conscience.… They hold all the goods in their hands and do with them as they please.” They aim “at making sure of their profit in any case, which is contrary to the nature, not only of commercial wares but of all temporal goods which God wishes to be ever in danger and uncertainty. They, however, have discovered a means of securing a sure profit even on uncertain temporal goods.” A man can thus “in a short time become so rich as to be able to buy up kings and emperors”; such a thing cannot possibly be “right or godly.”[234]

As a further reason for condemning profit from trade and money transactions he points out, that such profit does not arise from the earth or from cattle.[235]

With both these arguments he is, however, on purely mediæval ground. He pays but little regard to the new economic situation, though he has a keen eye for the abuses and the injustice which undoubtedly accompanied the new commerce. Instead, however, of confining his censure to these and pointing out how things might be improved, he prefers to take his stand on an already obsolete theory—one, nevertheless, which many shared with him—and condemn unconditionally all such commercial undertakings with the violence and lack of consideration usual in him.[236]

In his remarks we often find interesting thoughts on the economic conditions; we see the remarkable range of his intellect and occasionally we may even wonder whence he had his vast store of information. It is also evident, however, that the other work with which he was overwhelmed did not leave him time to digest his matter. Often enough he is right when he stigmatises the excesses, but on the whole he goes much too far. As Frank G. Ward says: “Because he was incapable of passing a discriminating judgment on the abuses that existed he simply condemned all commerce off-hand.”[237] He was too fond of scenting evil usury everywhere. A contemporary of his, the merchant Bonaventura Furtenbach, of Nuremberg, having come across one of Luther’s writings on the subject, possibly his “Von Kauffshandlung,” remarked sarcastically: “Were I to try to write a commentary on the Gospel of Luke everyone would say, you are not qualified to do so. So it is with Luther when he treats of the interest on money; he has never studied such matters.”[238] A Hamburg merchant also made fun of Luther’s economics, and, as the Hamburg Superintendent Æpinus (Johann Hock) reported, quoted the instance of the Peripatetician Phormion, who gave Hannibal a scholastic lecture on the art of war, for which reason it is usual to dub him who tries to speak of things of which he knows nothing, a new Phormion.[239]

In his “An den Adel” Luther had shown himself more reticent, though even here he inveighs against interest and trading companies, and says: “I am not conversant with figures, but I cannot understand how, with a hundred florins, it is possible to gain twenty annually.… I leave this to the worldly wise. I, as a theologian, have only to censure the appearance of evil concerning which St. Paul says [1 Thess. v. 22] ‘from all appearance of evil refrain!’ This I know very well,” he continues, speaking from the traditional standpoint, “that it would be much more godly to pay more attention to tilling the soil and less to trade.” Yet, even in this writing, he goes so far as to say: “It is indeed high time that a bit were put in the mouth of the Fuggers and such-like companies.”[240]

More and more plainly he was, however, forced to realise that it was not within his power to check the new development of commerce; he, nevertheless, stuck by his earlier views. He was also, and to some extent justifiably, shocked at the growing luxury which had made its way into the burgher class and into the towns generally in the train of foreign trade. Instead of “staying in his place and being content with a moderate living,” “everyone wants to be a merchant and to grow rich.”[241]

“We despise the arts and languages,” he says, “but refuse to do without the foreign wares which are neither necessary nor profitable to us, but [the expenses of] which lay our very bones bare. Do we not thereby show ourselves to be true Germans, i.e. fools and beasts?”[242] God “has given us, like other nations, sufficient wool, hair, flax and everything else necessary for suitable and becoming clothing, but now men squander fortunes on silk, satin, cloth of gold and all sorts of foreign stuffs.… We could also do with less spices.” People might say he was trying to “put down the wholesale trade and commerce. But I do my duty. If things are not improved in the community, at least let whoever can amend.”[243]

“I cannot see that much in the way of good has ever come to a country through commerce.”[244]

He refused to follow the more luxurious mode of living which had become the rule in the towns as a result of trade, but insisted on leading the more simple life to which he had throughout been accustomed. For the good of the people, poverty or simplicity was on the whole more profitable than riches. “People say, and with truth, ‘It takes a strong man to bear prosperity,’ and ‘A man can endure many things but not good fortune.’ … If we have food and clothing let us esteem it enough. For the cities of the plain which God destroyed it would have been better, if, instead of abounding in wealth, everything had been of the dearest, and there had been less superfluity.”[245]—“What worse and more wanton can be conceived of than the mad mob and the yokels when they are gorged with food and have the reins in their hands.”[246]

Hence he took a “tolerable maintenance” as he expresses it, i.e. the mode of living suitable to a man’s state, as the basis of a fair wage. The question of wages must in the last instance, he thinks, depend on the question of maintenance. Luther, like Calvin, did not go any further in this matter. “Their conservative ideas saw in high wages only the demoralisation of the working classes.”[247]

Luther’s remarks on this subject “recall the words of Calvin, viz. that the people must always be kept in poverty in order that they may remain obedient.”[248]

According to his view “the price of goods was synonymous with their barter value expressed in money; money was the fixed, unchangeable standard of things; it never occurred to anyone that an alteration in the value of money might come, a mistake which led to much confusion. Again, the barter value of a commodity was its worth calculated on the cost of the material it contained and of the trouble and labour expended on its manufacture. This calculation excluded the subjective element, just as it ignored competition as a factor in the determining of prices.”[249] Thus, according to Luther, the merchant had merely to calculate “how many days he had spent in fetching and acquiring the goods, and how great had been the work and danger involved, for much labour and time ought to represent a higher and better wage”; he should in this “compare himself to the common day-labourer or working-man, see what he earns in a day, and calculate accordingly.” More than a “tolerable maintenance” was, however, to be avoided in commerce, and likewise all such profit “as might involve loss to another.”[250] It would have pleased him best had the authorities fixed the price of everything, but, owing to their untrustworthiness, this appeared to him scarcely to be hoped for. The principle: “I shall sell my goods as dear as I can,” he opposed with praiseworthy firmness; this was “to open door and window to hell.”[251] He also inveighed rightly and strongly against the artificial creation of scarcity. Here, too, we see that his ideas were simply those in vogue in the ranks from which he came.

“His economic views in many particulars display a retrograde tendency.”[252]—“In the history of economics he cannot be considered as either an original or a systematic thinker. We frequently find him adopting views which were current without seriously testing their truth or their grounds.… His exaggerations and inconsequence must be explained by the fact that he took but little interest in worldly business. His interpretation of things depended on his own point of view rather than on the actual nature of the case.”[253]

The worst of it is that his own “point of view” intruded itself far too often into his criticisms of social conditions.

Influence of Old-Testament Ideas

Excessive regard for the Old-Testament enactments helped Luther to adopt a peculiar outlook on things social and ethical.

He says in praise of the Patriarchs: “They were devout and holy men who ruled well even among the heathen; now there is nothing like it.”[254] He often harks back to the social advantages of certain portions of the Jewish law, and expressly regrets that there were no princes who had the courage to take steps to reintroduce them for the benefit of mankind.

In 1524, under the influence of his Biblical studies, he wrote to Duke Johann Frederick of Saxony, praising the institution of tithes and even of fifths: “It would be a grand thing if, according to ancient usage, a tenth of all property were annually handed over to the authorities; this would be the most Godly interest possible.… Indeed it would be desirable to do away with all other taxes and impose on the people a payment of a fifth or sixth, as Joseph did in Egypt.”[255] At the same time he is quite aware that such wishes are impracticable, seeing that, “not the Mosaic, but the Imperial law is now accepted by the world and in use.”

Partly owing to the impossibility of a return to the Old Covenant, partly out of a spirit of contradiction to the new party, he opposed the fanatics’ demand that the Mosaic law should be introduced as near as possible entire, and the Imperial, Roman law abrogated as heathenish and the Papal, Canon law as anti-Christian. Duke Johann, the Elector’s brother, was soon half won over to these fantastic ideas by the Court preacher, Wolfgang Stein, but Luther and Melanchthon succeeded in making him change his mind.[256] The necessity Luther was under of opposing the Anabaptists here produced its fruits; his struggle with the fanatics preserved him from the consequences of his own personal preference for the social regulations of the Old Covenant.

In what difficulties his Old-Testament ideas on polygamy involved him the history of the bigamy of Philip of Hesse has already shown.[257] Had such ideas concerning marriage been realised in society the revolution in the social order would indeed have been great.

Luther’s esteem for the social laws of the Old Testament finds its best expression in his sermons on Genesis, which first saw the light in 1527.

He says, for instance, of the Jewish law of restitution and general settlement of affairs, in the Jubilee Year: “It is laid down in Moses that no one can sell a field in perpetuity but only until the Jubilee Year, and when this came each one recovered possession of his field or the property he had sold, and thus the lands remained in the family. There are also some other fine laws in the Books of Moses which well might be adopted, made use of and put in force.” He even wishes that the Imperial Government would take the lead in re-enacting them “for as long as is desired, but without compulsion.”[258]

His views on interest and usury were likewise influenced by his one-sided reading of certain Old- and New-Testament statements.

Usury and Interest

On the question of the lawfulness of charging interest Luther not only laid down no “new principles” which might have been of help for the future, but, on the contrary, he paved the way for serious difficulties. He was not to be moved from the traditional, mediæval standpoint which viewed the charging of any interest whatever on loans as something prohibited. His foe, Johann Eck, on the other hand, in a Disputation at Bologna, had defended the lawfulness of moderate interest.[259]

After having repeatedly attacked by word and pen usury and the charging of any interest[260]—led thereto, as he says, by the grievous abuses in the commercial and financial system, he published in 1539 his “An die Pfarherrn wider den Wucher zu predigen,” whence most of what follows has been taken. As it was written towards the end of his life, we may assume it to represent the result of his experience and the final statement of his convictions.

In this writing, after a sad outburst on the increase of usury in Germany, he begins his “warnings” by urging that “the people should be told firmly and plainly concerning lending and borrowing, and that when money is lent and a charge made or more taken back than was originally made over, this is usury, and as such is condemned by every law. Hence those are usurers who charge 5, or 6, or more on the hundred on the money they lend, and should be called idolatrous ministers of avarice or Mammon, nor can they be saved unless they do penance.… To lend is to give a man my money, property or belongings so that he may use them.… Just as one neighbour lends another a dish, a can, a bed, or clothes, and in the same way money, or money’s worth, in return for which I may not take anything.”[261]

The writer of these words, like so many others who, in his day and later, still adhered to the old canonical standpoint, failed to see, that, as things then were, to lend money was to surrender to the borrower a commodity which was already bringing in some return, and that, in consequence of this, the lender had a right to demand some indemnification. As this had not generally speaking been the case in the Middle Ages, the prohibition of charging interest was then a just one. Nevertheless, within certain limits, it was slowly becoming obsolete and, as the economic situation changed for that of modern times and money became more liquid, the more general did lending at interest become.

Luther was well aware that to lend at interest was already “usual” and even “common in all classes.”[262] It was also, as a Protestant contemporary complained in 1538, twice as prevalent in the Lutheran communities than among the Catholics.[263] Still Luther insists obstinately that, “it was a very idle objection, and one that any village sexton could dispose of when people pleaded the custom of the world contrary to the Word of God, or against what was right.… It is nothing new or strange that the world should be hopeless, accursed, damned; this it had always been and would ever remain. If you obey its behests, you also will go with it into the abyss of hell.”[264]

Though in his instructions to the pastors he condemns indiscriminately, as a “thief, robber and murderer,” everyone who charges interest, still he wants his teaching to be applied above all to the “great ogres in the world, who can never charge enough per cent.” “The sacrament and absolution” were to be denied them, and “when about to die they were to be left like the heathen and not granted Christian burial” unless they had first done penance. To the “small usurer it is true my sentence may sound terrible, I mean to such as take but five or six on the hundred.”[265]

All, however, whether the percentage they charge be small or great, he advises to bring their objections to him, or to some other minister, “or to a good lawyer,”[266] so as to learn the further reasons and particulars concerning the prohibition of receiving interest. Every pastor was to preach strongly and fearlessly on its general unlawfulness in order that he may not “go to the devil” with those of his flock who charge interest.

Not that Luther was very hopeful about the results of such preaching. “The whole world is full of usurers,” he said in 1542 in the Table-Talk, and to a friend who had asked him: “Why do not the princes punish such grievous usury and extortion?” Luther answers: “Surely, the princes and kings have other things to do; they have to feast, drink and hunt, and cannot attend to this.” “Things must soon come to a head and a great and unforeseen change take place! I hope, however, that the Last Day will soon make an end of it all.”[267]

As to his grounds for condemning interest, he declares in the same conversation: “Money is an unfruitful commodity which I cannot sell in such a way as to entitle me to a profit.” He is but re-echoing the axiom “Pecunia est sterilis,” etc., maintained all too long in learned Catholic circles. Hence, as he says in 1540, “Lending neither can nor ought to be a true trade or means of livelihood; nor do I believe the Emperor thinks so either.” Besides, “it is not enough in the sight of heaven to obey the laws of the Emperor.”[268] According to him God had positively forbidden in the Old Testament the charging of any interest, as contrary to the natural law and as oppressive and unlawful usury (Ex. xxii. 25; Lev. xxv. 36; Deut. xxiii. 19, etc.). In the New Testament Christ, so Luther thinks, solemnly confirmed the prohibition when He said in St. Matthew’s gospel: “Give to him that asketh thee and from him that would borrow of thee turn not away” (v. 42), and in St. Luke (vi. 35) still more emphatically: “Lend, hoping for nothing.”[269]

In the Old Law, however, the charging of interest was by no means absolutely forbidden to the Jews (Deut. xxiii. 19 f.), so that it could not be regarded as a thing repugnant to the natural law, though the Mosaic Code interdicted it among the Jews themselves. As for the New-Testament passages Luther had no right to infer any prohibition from them. Our Saviour, after speaking of offering the other cheek to the smiter, of giving also our cloak to him who would take away our coat, and of other instances of the exercise of extraordinary virtue, goes on to advise our lending without hope of return. But many understood this as a counsel, not as a command. Luther indeed says that thereby they were making nought of Christ’s doctrine. He insists that all these counsels were real commands, viz. commands to be ever ready to suffer injustice and to do good; the secular authorities were there to see that human society thereby suffered no harm. The Papists, however, and the scholastics looked upon these things in a different light. “The sophists had no reason for altering our Lord’s commands and for making out that they were ‘consilia’ as they term them.”[270] “They teach that Christ did not enjoin these things on all Christians, but only on the perfect, each one being free to keep them if he desires.” In this way the Papists do away with the doctrine of Christ; they thereby condemn, destroy and get rid of good works, whilst all the time accusing us of forbidding them; “hence it is that the world has got so full of monks, tonsures and Masses.”[271]—Yet, even if we take the words of Christ, as quoted, let us say, by St. Luke, and see in them a positive command, yet they would refer only to the social and economic conditions prevailing among the Jews at the time the words were spoken. According to certain commentators, moreover, the words have no reference to the question of interest, because, so they opine, “it was a question of relinquishing all claim not merely on the interest but on the capital itself.”[272]

The Jesuit theologians of the 16th and 17th centuries as a rule were careful to instance a number of cases in which the canonical prohibition of charging even a moderate rate of interest does not apply. They thus paved the way for the abrogation of the prohibition. Of this we have an instance in Iago Lainez, who in principle was strongly averse to the charging of interest. This theologian, who later became General of the Jesuits, when a preacher at the busy commercial city of Genoa, wrote (1553-1554) an essay on usury embodying the substance of his addresses to the merchants.[273] Lainez there points out that any damage accruing to the lender from the loan, and also the temporary absence of profit on it, constitutes a sufficient ground for demanding a moderate interest.[274] He also strongly insists that the lender, in compensation for his willingness to lend, may accept from the borrower a “voluntary” premium;[275] the lender, moreover, has a perfect right to safeguard himself by stipulating for a fine (pœna conventionalis) from the borrower should repayment be delayed. All this comes under the instances of “apparent usury,” which he enumerates: “Casus qui videntur usurarii et non sunt” (cap. 10).

Luther devotes no such prudent consideration to those exceptional cases. He was more inclined by nature harshly to vindicate the principles he had embraced than to seek how best to limit them in practice. “He did not take into account loans asked for, not from necessity, but for the purpose of making profit on the borrowed money”;[276] yet, after all, this was the very point on which the question turned in the early days of economic development. He discusses the lawfulness of a voluntary premium and comes to the conclusion that it is wrong. He scoffs at the lender, as a mere hypocrite, who argues: “The borrower is very thankful for such a loan and freely and without compulsion offers me 5, 6 or even 10 florins on the hundred.” “But even an adulteress and an adulterer,” says Luther in his usual vein, “are thankful and pleased with each other; a robber, too, does an assassin a great service when he helps him to commit highway robbery.” The borrower does the lender a similar criminal service and spiritual injury, for which no premium can make compensation.[277] As regards the case where the loan is not repaid at the specified time, Luther is, of course, of opinion that any real loss to the owner must be made good by the borrower. But now, he says, “they accept reimbursement for losses which they never suffered at all,” they simply calculate the interest on a loss which they may possibly suffer from not having back the money when the time comes for buying or paying. “In its efforts to make a certainty of what is uncertain, will not usury soon be the ruin of the world!”[278]

In the Table-Talk a friend, in 1542, raised an objection: If a man trades with the money lent him and makes 15 florins yearly, he must surely pay the lender something for this. Of this Luther, however, will not hear. “No, this is merely an accidental profit, and on accidentals no rule can be based.”[279] That the profit was “accidental” was, however, simply his theory.

In spite of all this Luther did make exceptions, though, in view of his rigid theory and reading of the Bible, it is difficult to see how he could justify them.

Thus, he is willing to allow usury in those cases where the charging of interest is “in reality a sort of work of mercy to the needy, who would otherwise have nothing, and where no great injury is done to another.” Thus, when “old people, poor widows or orphans, or other necessitous folk, who have learned no other way of making a living,” were only able to support themselves by lending out their money, in such cases the “lawyers might well seek to mitigate somewhat the severity of the law.” “Should an appeal be made to the ruler,” then the proverb “Necessity knows no law” might be quoted. “It might here serve to call to mind that the Emperor Justinian had permitted such mitigated usury [he had sanctioned the taking of 4, 6 or 8 per cent], and in such a case I am ready to agree and to answer for it before God, particularly in the case of needy persons and where usury is practised out of necessity or from charity. If, however, it was wanton, avaricious, unnecessary usury, merely for the purpose of trade and profit, then I would not agree”; even the Emperor himself could not make this legitimate; for it is not the laws of the Emperor which lead us to heaven, but the observance of the laws of God.[280]

It follows from this that even the so-called “titulus legis” found no favour in his sight in the case of actual money loans, for it is of this, not of “purchasable interest,” that he speaks in the writing to the pastors. A real, honest purchase, so he there says quite truly, is no usury.[281]

A remarkable deflection from his strict principles is to be found not only in the words just quoted but also in his letter to the town council of Erfurt sent in 1525 at the time of the rising in that town and the neighbourhood. The mutineers refused among other things to continue paying interest on the sums borrowed. For this refusal Luther censures them as rebels, and also refuses to hear of their “deducting the interest from the sum total” (i.e. the capital). He here vindicates the lenders as follows: “Did I wish yearly to spend some of the total amount I should naturally keep it by me. Why should I hand it over to another as though I were a child, and allow another to trade with it? Who can dispose of his money even at Erfurt in such a way that it shall be paid out to him yearly and bit by bit? This would really be asking too much.”[282]

Luther also relaxed his principles in favour of candidates for the office of preacher. When, in 1532, the widow of Wolfgang Jörger, an Austrian Governor, offered him 500 florins for stipends for “poor youths prosecuting their studies in Holy Scripture” at Wittenberg, at the same time asking him how to place it, he unhesitatingly replied that it should be lent out at interest; “I, together with Master Philip and other good friends and Masters, have thought this best because it is to be expended on such a good, useful and necessary work.” He suggested that the money “should be handed in at the Rathaus” at Nuremberg to Lazarus Spengler, syndic of that town; if this could not be, then he would have it “invested elsewhere.” Such “good works in Christ” are, he says, unfortunately not common amongst us “but rather the contrary, so that they leave the poor ministers to starve; the nobles as well as the peasants and the burghers are all of them more inclined to plunder than to help.”[283] Thus it was his desire to help the preachers that determined his action here.

A writer, who, as a rule, is disposed to depict Luther’s social ethics in a very favourable light, remarks: “When his attention was riveted on the abuses arising from the lending of money [and the charging of interest] he could see nothing but evil in the whole thing; on the other hand, if some good purpose was to be served by the money, he regarded this as morally quite justifiable.”[284] That Luther “was not always true to his theories,” and that he is far from displaying any “striking originality” in his economic views, cannot, according to this author, be called into question.[285]

Luther on Unearned Incomes and Annuities

A great change took place in Luther’s views concerning the buying of the right to receive a yearly interest, nor was the change an unfortunate one. He was induced to abandon his earlier standpoint that such purchase was wrong and to recognise, that, within certain limits, it could be perfectly lawful.

The nature of this sort of purchase, then very common, he himself explains in his clear and popular style: “If I have a hundred florins with which I might gain five, six or more florins a year by means of my labour, I can give them to another for investment in some fertile land in order that, not I, but he, may do business with them; hence I receive from him the five florins I might have made, and thus he sells me the interest, five florins per hundred, and I am the buyer and he the seller.”[286] It was an essential point in the arrangement that the money should be employed in an undertaking in some way really fruitful or profitable to the receiver of the capital, i.e. in real estate, which he could farm, or in some other industry; the debtor gave up the usufruct to the creditor together with the interest agreed upon, but was able to regain possession of it by repayment of the debt. The creditor, according to the original arrangement, was also to take his share in the fluctuations in profit, and not arbitrarily to demand back his capital.

At first Luther included such transactions among the “fig-leaves” behind which usury was wont to shelter itself; they were merely, so he declared in 1519 in his Larger Sermon on Usury, “a pretty sham and pretence by which a man can oppress others without sin and become rich without labour or trouble.”[287] In the writing “An den Adel” he even exclaimed: “The greatest misfortune of the German nation is undoubtedly the traffic in interest.… The devil invented it and the Pope, by sanctioning it, has wrought havoc throughout the world.”[288] It is quite true that the arrangement, being in no wise unjust, had received the conditional sanction of the Church and was widely prevalent in Christendom. Many abuses and acts of oppression had, indeed, crept into it, particularly with the general spread of the practice of charging interest on money loans, but they were not a necessary result of the transaction. Luther, in those earlier days, demanded that such “transactions should be utterly condemned and prevented for the future, regardless of the opposition of the Pope and all his infamous laws [to the condemnation], and though he might have erected his pious foundations on them.… In truth, the traffic in interest is a sign and a token that the world is sold into the devil’s slavery by grievous sins.”[289] Yet Luther himself allows the practice under certain conditions in the Larger Sermon on Usury published shortly before, from which it is evident that here he is merely voicing his detestation of the abuses, and probably, too, of the “Pope and his infamous laws.”

In fact his first pronouncements against the investing of money are all largely dictated by his hostility to the existing ecclesiastical government; “that churches, monasteries, altars, this and that,” should be founded and kept going by means of interest, is what chiefly arouses his ire. In 1519 he busies himself with the demolition of the objection brought forward by Catholics, who argued: “The churches and the clergy do this and have the right to do it because such money is devoted to the service of God.”

In his Larger Sermon on Usury he gives an instance where he is ready to allow transactions at interest, viz. “where both parties require their money and therefore cannot afford to lend it for nothing but are obliged to help themselves by means of bills of exchange. Provided the ghostly law be not infringed, then a percentage of four, five or six florins may be taken.”[290] Thus he here not only falls back on the “ghostly law,” but also deviates from the line he had formerly laid down. In fact we have throughout to deal more with stormy effusions than with a ripe, systematic discussion of the subject.

Later on, his general condemnations of the buying of interest-rights become less frequent.

He even wrote in 1524 to Duke Johann Frederick of Saxony: Since the Jewish tithes cannot be re-introduced, “it would be well to regulate everywhere the purchase of interest-rights, but to do away with them altogether would not be right since they might be legalised.”[291] As a condition for justifying the transaction he requires above all that no interest should be charged without “a definitely named and stated pledge,” for to charge on a mere money pledge would be usury. “What is sterile cannot pay interest.”[292] Further the right of cancelling the contract was to remain in the hands of the receiver of the capital. The interest once agreed upon was to be paid willingly. He himself relied on the practice and once asked: “If the interest applied to churches and schools were cut off, how would the ministers and schools be maintained?”[293]

With regard to the rate of interest allowable in his opinion, he says in his sermons on Matt. xviii. (about 1537): “We would readily agree to the paying of six or even of seven or eight on the hundred.”[294] As a reason he assigns the fact that “the properties have now risen so greatly in value,” a remark to which he again comes back in 1542 in his Table-Talk in order to justify his not finding even seven per cent excessive.[295] He thus arrives eventually at the conclusion of the canonists who, for certain good and just reasons, allowed a return of from seven to eight per cent.

In his “An die Pfarherrn” he took no account of such purchases but merely declared that he would find some other occasion “of saying something about this kind of usury”; at the same time a “fair, honest purchase is no usury.”[296]

All the more strongly in this writing, the tone of which is only surpassed by the attacks on the usury of the Jews contained in his last polemics, does he storm against the evils of that usury which was stifling Germany. The pastors and preachers were to “stick to the text,” where the Gospel forbids the taking of anything in return for loans.[297] That this will bring him into conflict with the existing custom he takes for granted. In his then mood of pessimistic defiance he was anxious that the preachers should boldly hurl at all the powers that be the words of that Bible which cannot lie: where evil is so rampant “God must intervene and make an end, as He did with Sodom, with the world at the Deluge, with Babylon, with Rome and such like cities, that were utterly destroyed. This is what we Germans are asking for, nor shall we cease to rage until people shall say: Germany was, just as we now say of Rome and of Babylon.”[298]

He nevertheless gives the preachers a valuable hint as to how they were to proceed in order to retain their peace of mind and get over difficulties. Here “it seems to me better … for the sake of your own peace and tranquillity, that you should send them to the lawyers whose duty and office it is to teach and to decide on such wretched, temporal, transitory, worldly matters, particularly when they [your questioners] are disposed to haggle about the Gospel text.”[299] “For this reason, according to our preaching, usury with all its sins should be left to the lawyers, for, unless they whose duty it is to guard the dam help in defending it, the petty obstacles we can set up will not keep back the flood.” But, after all, “the world cannot go on without usury, without avarice, without pride … otherwise the world would cease to be the world nor would the devil be the devil.”[300]

The difficulties which beset Luther’s attitude on the question of interest were in part of his own creation.

“In the question of commerce and the charging of interest,” says Julius Köstlin in his “Theologie Luthers,” “he displays, for all his acumen, an unmistakable lack of insight into the true value for social life of trade—particularly of that trade on a large scale with which we are here specially concerned—in spite of all the sins and vexations which it brings with it, or into the importance of loans at interest—something very different from loans to the poor—for the furthering of work and the development of the land.”[301]

With reference to what Köstlin here says it must, however, be again pointed out that Luther’s lack of insight may be explained to some extent “by the great change which was just then coming over the economic life of Germany.” It must also be added, that, in Luther’s case, the struggle against usury was in itself a courageous and deserving work, and, that, hand in hand with it, went those warm exhortations to charity which he knew so well how to combine with Christ’s Evangelical Counsels.

In his attack on the abuses connected with usury his indignation at the mischief, and his ardent longing to help the oppressed, frequently called forth impressive and heart-stirring words. Though, in what Luther said about usury and on the economic conditions of his day, we meet much that is vague, incorrect and passionate, yet, on the other hand, we also find some excellent hints and suggestions.[302]

It is notorious that the controversy regarding the lawfulness of interest, even of 5 per cent, on money loans, went on for a long time among theologians both Catholic and Protestant. The subject was also keenly debated among the 16th-century Jesuits. No theologian, however, succeeded in proving the sinfulness of the charging of a five per cent interest under the circumstances which then obtained in Germany. Attempts to have this generally prohibited under severe penalties were rejected by eminent Catholic theologians, for instance, in a memorandum of the Law and Divinity Faculties at Ingolstadt, dated August 2, 1580, which bore the signatures of all the professors.[303] On the Protestant side the contest led to disagreeable proceedings at Ratisbon, where, in 1588, five preachers, true to Luther’s injunctions, insisted firmly on the prohibition on theological grounds. They were expelled from the town by the magistrates, though this did not end the controversy.[304]

There was naturally no question at any time of enforcing the severe measures which Luther had advocated against those who charged interest; on the contrary the social disorders of the day promoted not merely the lending at moderate interest, but even actual usury of the worst character. When even Martin Bucer showed himself disposed to admit the lawfulness of taking twelve per cent interest George Lauterbecken, the Mansfeld councillor, wrote of him in his “Regentenbuch”: “What has become of the book Dr. Luther of blessed memory addressed to the ministers on the subject of usury, exhorting them most earnestly,” etc., etc.? Nobody now dreamt, so he complains, of putting in force the penalties decreed by Luther. “Where do we see in any of our countries which claim to be Evangelical anyone refused the Sacrament of the altar or Holy Baptism on account of usury? Where, agreeably to the Canons, are they forbidden to make a will? Where do we see one of them buried on the dungheap?”[305]


CHAPTER XXXVI
THE DARKER SIDE OF LUTHER’S INNER LIFE. HIS AILMENTS

The struggles of conscience which we already had occasion to consider (vol. v., p. 319 ff.) were not the only gloomy elements in Luther’s interior life. Other things, too, must be taken into our purview if we wish to appreciate justly the more sombre side of his existence, viz. his bodily ailments and the mental sufferings to which they gave rise (e.g. paroxysms of terror and apprehension), his temptations, likewise his delusions concerning his intercourse with the other world (ghosts, diabolical apparitions, etc.), and, lastly, the revelations of which he fancied himself the recipient.