CHAPTER IV.

LUTHER AND HIS ANTI-CATHOLIC WORK OF REFORMATION, UP TO 1525

Luther, as we have seen, was able to prosecute his labours at Wittenberg, undisturbed by the act of the Diet. In other parts of Germany as well, the imperial power left wide scope for the spread of his teaching. At the next approaching Diet at Nüremberg no majority could be looked for again, to give effect to the consequences demanded by the Edict of Worms. Any such expectation was the more futile, from the results, already experienced, of Luther's reappearance in public.

The new Pope, Hadrian VI., whilst adhering strictly to the doctrines of mediæval Scholasticism and of Church authority, nevertheless, by his honest avowal of ecclesiastical abuses, and the firmness and earnestness of his personal character, led men to expect a new era of energetic reform for the Romish Church, at least in regard to the discipline of the clergy and monks, and to a conscientious restraint of Church ordinances, so that even men like Erasmus might rest content. And yet, he was the very one who sought now to stamp out with all severity the Lutheran heresy and its innovations. With this object he broke out into low abuse and slander against Luther personally, as a drunkard and a debauchee. Libels of this kind were perpetually repeated by the Romanists, and no doubt Hadrian believed them, though Luther did not trouble himself much about such personal attacks, but in his letters to Spalatin, simply called the Pope an ass. Hadrian also, like so many Romish Churchmen after him, was extremely zealous to impress upon princes that he who despises the sacred decrees and the heads of the Church, would cease to respect a temporal throne.

But the Diet which assembled at Nüremberg in the winter of 1522-23, replied to the demands of the Pope by renewing the old grievances of the German nation, and insisting on a free Christian Council, to be held in Germany.

Nor did even an unfortunate military enterprise, undertaken at this time against the Archbishop of Treves by Sickingen, who, while fighting for his own power and the interests of the German nobles, announced his wish also to break road for the Gospel, produce those disastrous results for the evangelical cause in Germany which its enemies had anticipated and hoped for. Sickingen, indeed, after being defeated by the superior forces of the allied princes, died of the wounds he received, but it was as clear as noonday that Frederick the Wise and his evangelical theologians had had nothing to do with his act of violence. Luther, on hearing of Sickingen's enterprise, remarked that it would be 'a very bad business,' and added, on learning the issue, 'God is a just, but a marvellous judge.'

The next meeting of the Diet, from whom, after Hadrian's early death, his successor, Clement VII.—another modern Pope of Leo's way of thinking—demanded anew the execution of the Edict of Worms, resulted in the imperial decree of April 18, 1524. By this, the states of the Empire agreed to execute that edict 'as far as possible,' but stipulated that the Lutheran and the other new doctrines should first be 'examined with the utmost diligence,' and, together with the grievances presented by the princes against the Pope and the hierarchy, should be made the subject of a representation to the Council now demanded. But the inconsistency that lurked in this decree caught Luther's eye and aroused his suspicion. It was scandalous, he declared in a paper upon it, that the Emperor and the princes should issue 'contradictory orders.' They were going to deal with him according to the Edict of Worms, and proclaim him a condemned man, and persecute him, and at the same moment wait to decide what was good or bad in his doctrines. But the decree was, in fact, a subterfuge, by which they resigned the idea of executing that edict. The Lord's Supper could be celebrated at Nüremberg in the new way before the eyes of the whole Diet. Well might Frederick the Wise hope that men would still, at least in Germany, come gradually to agree in peace about the truth contained in Luther's preaching.

The absent Emperor, indeed, remained insensible to all such influences. In the Netherlands strict penal laws were in force. In a letter addressed to the German Empire he condemned the decree of Nüremberg, and, like Hadrian, compared Luther to Mahomet. Further, a minority of the German princes, including, in particular, Ferdinand of Austria, and the Dukes William and Louis of Bavaria, entered into a league at Ratisbon to execute the Edict of Worms, while agreeing to certain reforms in the Church, according to a Papal scheme proposed by his nuncio Campeggio. They too began to persecute and punish the heretics.

Thus, then, the seed sown by Luther began to germinate throughout the whole of Germany. The number of Lutheran preachers increased, and requests were made in many places for their services. Even Cochlaeus had to confess that, however bad were their ultimate objects, they showed a remarkable unselfishness and industry in their calling, and that they avoided even the appearance of pushing themselves forward in an irregular and arbitrary manner, waiting rather for their appointment in due course by the nobles or the various congregations. Among the treatises and other writings on ecclesiastical and religious questions which inundated Germany at that time, at least ten were written on the Lutheran, one on the Romish side. The complaint was that there were not more numerous and better qualified printers for the work.

Among the nobles who espoused the cause of Luther, the support of Albert of Mansfeld, one of the Counts of Luther's native place, was particularly grateful. It was mainly by the nobles that the movement was represented in Austria.

But the gospel gained most ground in German towns, especially among the burgher class in the free cities of the Empire. Preachers were invited hither, where none already existed, and the mass was publicly abolished. This took place during 1523 and 1524 at Magdeburg, Frankfort-on-the-Main, Schwäbish Hall, Nüremberg, Ulm, Strasburg, Breslau, and Bremen. On Saxon territory also, Lutheran congregations were formed in various towns, such as Zwickau, Altenburg, and Eisenach. In many cases Luther's personal friends took part in the movement, and thus cemented more closely their friendship with the Reformer. He had already some trusted fellow-labourers at Nüremberg. At Magdeburg his friend Amsdorf was pastor. Hess, the first evangelical pastor of Breslau, had formed some years earlier a warm friendship with him and Melancthon. Link, his old friend, and the successor of Staupitz as Vicar-General of the Augustines, held office as a preacher at Altenburg, whence he was recalled, for the same purpose, in 1525, to Nüremberg, his former place of residence. Wherever Luther heard of evangelical communities who seemed to need especial help for their strengthening or consolation under trouble, he addressed to them letters, which were afterwards circulated in print. These were sent, for instance, to Esslingen, Augsburg, Worms; also to his 'beloved friends in Christ' at Wittenberg, who had been harassed by the Romanists, and whose cause he pleaded to the Archbishop Albert. With particular joy he sent greetings to the 'chosen and dear friends in God' in the distant towns of Riga, Reval, and Dorpat; and he sent them also an exposition of the 127th Psalm.

The Word, rejected and condemned as it had been by bishops and priests in Germany, met with singular success beyond the eastern boundary of the Empire, among the Order of Teutonic Knights in Prussia. The Grand Master of the Order, Albert of Brandenburg, brother of the Elector of Brandenburg, and cousin of Albert, the Archbishop and Cardinal, had kept up communication with Luther, both orally and by letter, and had been advised by him and Melancthon to make himself familiar with the gospel and the principles of the Evangelical Church. And, above all, there were here two bishops who espoused the new teaching, and who were anxious to tend the flocks committed to their charge as true evangelical bishops or overseers, in the sense insisted on by Luther, and particularly to minister to the Word by preaching and by the care of souls. These were George of Polenz, Bishop of Samland since 1523, and Erhard of Queiss, Bishop of Pomerania since 1524. The members of the Order, almost without exception, were on their side: they resolved to establish a temporal princedom in Prussia and to renounce their vows of 'false chastity and spirituality.' The King of Poland, under whose suzerainty the country had long been, solemnly invested the hitherto Grand Master on April 10, 1525, as hereditary Duke of Prussia. Thus Prussia became the first territory that collectively embraced the Reformation, whilst as yet, even in the Electorate of Saxony, no general measures had been taken in its support. It became, in short, the first Protestant country. Luther wrote to the new Duke: 'I am greatly rejoiced that Almighty God has so graciously and wondrously helped your princely Grace to attain such an eminent position, and further my wish is that the same merciful God may continue His blessing to your Grace through life, for the benefit and godly welfare of the whole country.' And to the Archbishop Albert he held the new Duke up as a shining example, in saying of him, 'How graciously has God sent such a change, as, ten years ago, could not have been hoped for or believed in, even had ten Isaiahs and Pauls announced it. But because he gave room and honour to the gospel, the gospel in return has given him far more room and honour—more than he could have dared to wish for.'

The gospel now received its first testimony in blood. With joyful confidence Luther beheld what God had done, but could not refrain from lamenting, with sorrowful humility, that he himself had not been found worthy of martyrdom. In the Imperial hereditary lands, where for some years missionaries, chiefly members of Luther's own Augustine Order, had been actively labouring in the strength of the convictions derived from Wittenberg, two young Augustine monks, Henry Voes and John Esch, were publicly burnt, on July 1, 1523, as heretics. Luther thereupon addressed a letter to 'the beloved Christians in Holland, Brabant, and Flanders,' praising God for His wondrous light, that He had caused again to dawn. He spoke out even stronger in some verses in which he celebrated the young martyrs; they were published no doubt originally as a broadsheet:

A new song will we raise to Him
Who ruleth, God our Lord;
And we will sing what God hath done,
In honour of His Word.
At Brussels in the Netherlands,
It was through two young lads,
He hath made known His Wonders, &c.

They conclude as follows:—

So let us thank our God to see
His Word returned at last.
The Summer now is at the door,
The Winter is forepast,
The tender flowerets bloom anew,
And He, who hath begun,
Will give His work a happy end.

He was, later on, deeply grieved by the death of his brother-Augustine and friend Henry Moller of Zütphen, who, after having been forced to fly from the Netherlands, had begun a blessed work at Bremen, and was now murdered in the most brutal manner on December 11, 1524, by a mob instigated by monks, near Meldorf, whither he had gone in response to an invitation from some of his companions in the faith. Luther informed his Christian brethren in a circular of the end of this 'blessed brother' and 'Evangelist.' He mentions, with him, the two martyrs of Brussels, as well as other disciples of the new doctrine; one Caspar Tauber, who was executed at Vienna, a bookseller named Georg, who was burnt at Pesth, and one who had been recently burnt at Prague. 'These and such as these,' he adds, 'are they whose blood will drown the popedom, together with its god, the devil.'

With regard to his work of reformation, which had now spread so widely and found so many coadjutors, Luther at present thought as little about the outward constitution of a new Church as he had thought about any outward organisation of the war itself, or an external alliance of his adherents, or of a cleverly devised propaganda. Just as here the simple Word was to achieve the victory, so his whole efforts were devoted solely to restoring to the congregations the possession and enjoyment of that Word in all its purity, that they might gather round it, and be thereby further edified, sustained, and guided.

Wherever this privilege was denied to Christians, Luther claimed for them the right, by virtue of their universal priesthood, to ordain a priest for themselves, and to reject the ensnaring deceits of mere human doctrine. He declared himself to this effect, in a treatise written in 1523, and intended in the first instance for the Bohemians—that is to say, for the so-called Utraquists who were then the leading party in Bohemia. These sectaries, whose only ground of estrangement from Rome was the question of administering the cup to the laity, and who had never thought of separating themselves from the so-called Apostolical succession of the episcopate in the Catholic Church, Luther then hoped, albeit in vain, to win over to a genuine evangelical belief and practice of religion. In this treatise he went a step beyond the election of pastors by their congregations, by maintaining that a whole district, composed of such evangelical communities, might appoint their own overseer, who should exercise control over them, until the final establishment of a supreme bishopric, of an evangelical character, for the entire national Church. But of any such ecclesiastical edifice for Germany, wholly absorbed as he was in her immediate needs, he had not yet said a word. Congregations of such a kind, and suitable for such a purpose, could only be created by preaching the Word; nor had Luther yet abandoned the hope that the existing German episcopate, as already had been the case in Prussia, would accept an evangelical reconstruction on a much larger scale. With regard to individual congregations, moreover, it was the opinion of Luther and his friends that, where the local magistrates and patrons of the Church were inclined to the gospel, the appointment of pastors might be made by them in a regular way. A separation of civil communities, each represented by their own magistrate, from the ecclesiastical or religious units, was an idea wholly foreign to that time.

That the word of God should be preached to the various congregations in a pure and earnest manner, that those congregations themselves should be entrusted with the work, should make it their own, and, in reliance thereon, should lift up their hearts to God with prayer, supplication, and thanksgiving,—this was the fixed object which Luther held in view in all the regulations which he made at Wittenberg, and wished to institute in other places. In this spirit he advanced cautiously and by degrees in the changes introduced in public worship,—changes which, as he admits, he had commenced with fear and hesitation. 'That the Word itself,' he says, 'should advance mightily among Christians, is shown by the whole of Scripture, and Christ Himself says (Luke x.) that "one thing is needful," namely, that Mary should sit at the feet of Christ, and hear His Word daily. His Word endures for ever, and all else must melt away before it, however much Martha may have to do.' He points out as one of the great abuses of the old system of worship, that the people had to keep silence about the Word, while all the time they had to accept unchristian fables and falsehoods in what was read, and sung, and preached in the churches, and to perform public worship as a work which should entitle them to the grace of God. He now set vigorously about separating the mere furniture of worship. As to the Word itself, on the contrary, he was anxious to have it preached to the congregation, wherever possible, every Sunday morning and evening, and on week-days, at least to the students and others, who desired to hear it: this was actually done at Wittenberg. Innovations, not apparently required by his principles, he shunned himself, and warned others to do so likewise. Nor was he less diligent to guard against the danger of having the new forms of worship, now practised at Wittenberg, made into a law for all evangelical brethren without distinction. He gave an account and estimate of them in the form of a letter to his friend Hausmann, the priest at Zwickau, 'conjuring' his readers 'from his very heart, for Christ's sake,' that if anyone saw plainly a better way in these matters, he should make it known. No one, he declared, durst condemn or despise different forms practised by others. Outward customs and ceremonies were, indeed, indispensable, but they served as little to commend us to God, as meat or drink (1 Cor. viii. 8) served to make us well pleasing before Him.

In order to enable the congregations themselves to take an active part in the service, he now longed for genuine Church hymns, that is to say, songs composed in the noble popular language, verse, and melody. He invited friends to paraphrase the Psalms for this purpose; he had not sufficient confidence in himself for the work. And yet he was the first to attempt it. With fresh impulse and with the exuberance of true poetical genius, his verses on the Brussels martyrs had flowed forth spontaneously from his inmost soul. They were the first, so far as we know, that Luther had ever written, though he was now forty years of age. With the same poetic impulse he composed, probably shortly after, a hymn in praise of the 'highest blessing' that God had shown towards us in the sacrifice of His beloved Son.

Rejoice ye now, dear Christians all,
And let us leap for joy,
And dare with trustful, loving hearts,
Our praises to employ,
And sing what God hath shown to man,
His sweet and wondrous deed,
And tell how dearly He hath won. etc.

The full tone of a powerful, fresh, often uncouth, but very tender popular ballad no other writer of the time displayed like Luther. And whilst seeking to compose or re-arrange hymns for congregational use in church, he now busied himself with the Psalter, paraphrasing its contents in an evangelical spirit and in German metre.

Thus now, early in 1524, there appeared at Wittenberg the first German hymn-book, consisting at first, of only eight hymns, about half of them, such as that beginning Nun freut euch, being original compositions of Luther, and three others adapted from the Psalms. In the course of the same year he brought out a further collection of twenty hymns, written by himself for the evangelical congregation there: among these is the one on the Brussels martyrs. It was, in fact, the year in which German hymnody was born. Luther soon found the coadjutors he had wished for.

These twenty-four hymns by Luther were followed in after years by only twelve more from his own pen, among the latter being his grand hymn, Ein' feste Burg ist unser Gott, written probably in 1527. Of these later compositions, comparatively few expressed entirely his own ideas; most of them had reference to subjects already in the possession and use of the Christian world, and of German Christians in particular; that is to say, some referred to the Psalms and other portions of the Bible, others to parts of the Catechism, others again to short German ballads, sung by the people, and even to old Latin hymns. In all of them he was governed by a strict regard to what was both purely evangelical, and also suitable for the common worship of God. And yet they differ widely, one from another, in the poetical form and manner in which he now gives utterance to the longings of the heart for God, now seeks to clothe in verse suited for congregational singing words of belief and doctrine, now keeps closely to his immediate subject, now vents his emotions freely in Christian sentiments and poetical form, as for example in Ein' feste Burg, the most sublime and powerful production of them all.

The new hymns went forth in town and country, in churches and homes, throughout the land. Often, far more than any sermons could have done, they brought home to ears and hearts the Word of evangelical truth. They became weapons of war, as well as means of edification and comfort.

In his preface to a small collection of songs, which Luther had published in the same year, he remarks: 'I am not of opinion that the gospel should be employed to strike down and destroy all the arts, as certain high ecclesiastics would have it. I would rather that all the arts, and especially music, should be employed in the service of Him who has created them and given them to man.' What he says here about music and poetry, he applied equally to all departments of knowledge. He saw art and learning now menaced by wrong-minded enthusiasts. For this reason he was particularly anxious that they should be cultivated in the schools.

With great zeal he directed his counsels to the general duty of caring for the good education and instruction of the young, as indeed he had done some time before in his address to the German Nobility. These, above all, he said, must be rescued from the clutches of Satan. He had again in his mind schools for girls. Thus in 1523 he recommended the conversion of the cloisters of the Mendicant Orders into schools 'for boys and girls.' The same advice was offered by Eberlin, already mentioned, who was then living at Wittenberg, and who made the suggestion to the magistrates of Ulm.

But Luther's chief advice was directed to the requirements of the Church and the State, or 'temporal government,' which assuredly were then in need of educated and well-cultured servants. For the training here required, the ancient languages, Latin and Greek, were indispensable, and for the ministers of the Church, Greek and Hebrew in particular, as the languages in which the Word of God was originally conveyed to man. 'Languages,' he says, 'are the sheaths which enclose the sword of the Spirit, the shrine in which this treasure is carried, the vessel which contains this drink.' He insisted further on the study of history, and especially of that of Germany. It was a matter of regret to him that so little had been done towards writing the history of Germany, whilst the Greeks, the Romans, and the Hebrews had compiled theirs with such industry. 'O! how many histories and sayings,' he remarked, 'we ought to have in our possession, of all that has been done and said in different parts of Germany, and of which we know nothing. That is why, in other countries, people know nothing about us Germans, and all the world calls us German beasts, who can do nothing but fight, and guzzle, and drink.' Such were his opinions, as given in 1524, in a public letter 'To the Councillors of all the States of Germany; an appeal to institute and maintain Christian schools.'

The enthusiasm which had recently inspired young men of talent and ambition to study and imitate the ancient classics, and had banded together the leading teachers of Humanism, very quickly died away. The universities everywhere were less frequented. Enemies of Luther ascribed this to the influence of his doctrines, though matters were little better where his doctrines were repudiated. It is not, indeed, surprising that the Humanist movement, with its regard for formal culture and aesthetic enjoyment, and its aristocracy of intellect, should retire perforce before the supreme struggle, involving the highest issues and interests of life, which was now being waged by the German people and the Church. A further cause of this decline of academical studies was to be found, no doubt, in the vigorous, and somewhat giddy bound taken by trade and commerce in those days of increased communication and extensive geographical discovery, and in the striving after material gain and enjoyment, which seemed to find satisfaction in other ways more easily and rapidly than by learned industry and the pursuit of culture. It was from these quarters that came the complaints against the great merchants' houses, the usury, the rise in prices, the luxury and extravagance of the age,—complaints which were re-echoed alike by the friends and foes of the Reformation. The Reformers themselves fully recognised the thanks they owed to those Humanistic studies, and their permanent value for Church and State. In the new church regulations introduced in the towns and districts which accepted the evangelical teaching, the school system then played a prominent part. Nüremberg, some years after, was among the most active to establish a good high school. Luther himself went in April 1525 with Melancthon to his native place Eisleben, to assist in promoting a school, founded there by Count Albert of Mansfeld: his friend Agricola was the head master.

Thus we see that the work of planting and building occupied Luther at this time more than the contest with his old opponents. Well might he, as he says in his hymn, rejoice to see the spring-tide and the flowers, and hope for a rich summer.

On the other hand, not only did the adherents of the old system knit their ranks together more closely, and, like the confederates of Ratisbon in 1524, profess their desire to do something at least to satisfy the general complaint of the corruption of the Church; but men even, who from their undeniably deep and earnest striving for religion, seemed originally called to take part in the work and war, now separated themselves from Luther and his associates, not venturing to break free from the bonds of old ecclesiastical tradition. Still more was this the case with men of Humanistic culture, whose temporary alliance with Luther had been dictated more by the interest they felt in the arts and letters threatened by the old monastic spirit, and by the open scandal caused by the outrageous abuses of the clergy and monachism, than by any sympathy with his religious principles and ideas. And to those who wavered in so momentous a decision, and shrank back from it and the contests it involved, there was plenty in what they observed among Luther's adherents, to give them occasion for still further reflection. It was not to be denied that, sharply as Luther had reproved the conduct of the Wittenberg innovators, the new preaching gave rise among excited multitudes, in many places, to disturbance, disorder, and acts of violence against obstinate monks and priests; and all this was held up as a proof of what the consequences must be of a general dissolution of religious ties. The desertion of their convents by monks and nuns, ostensibly on the ground of their newly-proclaimed liberty, but in reality, for the most part, as was alleged against them by the Catholics, for the sake of carnal freedom, was denounced with no small severity by Luther himself; but, in so doing, he recalled to mind the fact, that equally low interests had led them into the convents, and that the cloisters also, after their fashion, indulged in the 'worship of the belly.' Luther was just as indignant that the great majority of those who refused to be robbed any longer of their money and goods at the demand and by the deceits of the Papal Church, now withheld them both from serving the objects of Christian love and benevolence, which they were all the more called on to promote. The enemies of the new doctrine began already to charge against it that the faith, which was supposed to make men so blessed, bore so little good fruit. Lastly, there were many honest-minded men, and many, also, who looked about for an excuse for abstaining from the battle, whom Luther's personal participation in the din and clamour of the fray served to scandalise, if not to alienate from his cause. Thus among those who had formerly been united by a common endeavour to improve the condition of the Church and repel the tyranny of Rome, a crisis had now begun.

Of all who drew back from Luther's work of reformation, none had been more intimately attached to him than his spiritual father, Staupitz. And this intimacy he retained as Abbot of Salzburg. In his view, nothing of all the external matters to which the Reformation was directed, seemed so important as to warrant the endangerment of religious concord and unity in the Church. Luther expressed to him the sorrow he felt at his estrangement, while renewing, at the same time, his assurance of unalterable affection and gratitude. Staupitz himself felt unhappy in his attitude and position. But even as abbot, and in the proximity of the Archbishop of Salzburg, a man of very different views and temperament to himself, he remained true to his doctrine of Faith, as being the only means of salvation and the root of all goodness. And the very last year of his life, in a letter to Luther, recommending to him a young theologian who was about to further his education at Wittenberg, he assured him of his unchanging love, 'passing the love of women' (2 Sam. i. 26), and gratefully acknowledged how his beloved Martin had first led him away 'to the living pastures from the husks for the pigs.' Luther gave a friendly welcome to the young man recommended to his care, and assisted him in gaining the desired degree of Master of Philosophy. This is the last that we hear of the intercourse between these two friends. On December 28, 1524, Staupitz died from a fit of apoplexy.

The earlier acquaintance between the Reformer and the great Humanist, Erasmus, had now developed into an irreconcilable enmity. The latter had long been unable to refrain from venting, in private and public utterances, his dissatisfaction and bitterness at the storm aroused by Luther, which was distracting the Church and disturbing quiet study. Patrons of his in high places—above all, King Henry VIII. of England—urged him to take up the cause of the Church against Luther in a pamphlet; and, difficult as he felt it to take a prominent part in such a contest, he was the less able to decline their overtures, since other Churchmen were reproaching him with having furthered by his earlier writings the pernicious movement. He chose a subject which would enable him, at any rate, while attacking Luther, to represent his own personal convictions, and to reckon on the concurrence not only of Romish zealots but also of a number of his Humanist friends, and even many men of deeply moral and religious disposition. Luther, it will be remembered, had told him plainly from the first that he knew too little of the grace of God, which alone could give salvation to sinners, and strength and ability to the good. Erasmus now retorted by his diatribe 'On Free Will,' by virtue whereof, he said, man was able and was bound to procure his own blessing and final happiness.

Luther, on perusing this treatise, in September 1524, was struck with the feebleness of its contents. So far, indeed, from defining the operation of the human will, Erasmus floated vaguely about in loose and incoherent propositions, evidently not from want of extreme care and circumspection, but from the fact that, in this province of antiquarian research, he failed in the necessary acuteness and depth of observation and thought. He declared himself ready to yield obedience to all decisions of the Church, but without expressing any opinion as to the real infallibility of an ecclesiastical tribunal. Throughout his whole treatise, however, there were personal thrusts at his enemy.

Luther, as he said, only wished to answer this diatribe out of regard to the position enjoyed by its author, and, from his sheer aversion to the book, for a long while postponed his reply. We shall see moreover, very shortly, what other pressing duties and events engrossed his attention for some time after. It was not until a year had elapsed, that his reply appeared, entitled 'On the Bondage of the Will.' Herein he pushes the propositions to which Erasmus took exception to their logical conclusion. Free Will, as it is called, has always been subject to the supremacy of a higher Power; with unredeemed sinners to the power of the devil; with the redeemed, to the saving, sanctifying, and sheltering Hand of God. For the latter, salvation is assured by His Almighty and grace-conferring Will. The fact that in other sinners no such conversion to God and to a redeeming faith in His Word is effected, can only be ascribed to the inscrutable Will of God Himself, nor durst man dispute thereon with his Maker. Luther in this went further than did afterwards the Evangelical Church that bears his name. And even he, later on, abstained himself and warned others to abstain from discussing such Divine mysteries and questions connected with them. But as for Erasmus, he never ceased to regard him as one who, from his superficial worldliness, was blind to the highest truth of salvation.

In respect to the battle against Catholic Churchdom and dogma, the controversy between Luther and Erasmus presents no new issue or further development. But in company with their old master, other Humanists also, the leading champions of the general culture of the age, dissociated themselves from Luther, and returned, as his enemies, to their allegiance to the traditional system of the Church. Next to Erasmus, the most important of these men was Pirkheimer of Nüremberg, to whom we have already referred.