CHAPTER V.
THE DIET OF AUGSBURG AND LUTHER AT COBURG, 1530.
A proclamation of the Emperor, convoking a new Diet at Augsburg for April 8, 1530, seemed now to indicate a more pacific demeanour. For in assigning to this Diet the task of consulting 'how best to deal with and determine the differences and division in the holy faith and the Christian religion,' it desired, for this object, that 'every man's opinions, thoughts, and notions should be heard in love and charity, and carefully weighed, and that men should thus be brought in common to Christian truth, and be reconciled.' The Emperor by no means meant, as might be inferred from this proclamation, that the two opposing parties should treat and arrange with each other on an equal footing; the rights of the Romish Church remained, as before, unalterably fixed. He only wished to avoid, if possible, the dangers of internal warfare. Even the Papal legate Campeggio, agreed that conciliatory measures might first be tried; the arrangements for the visitation of the Saxon Electorate were already construed at Rome, as indeed by many German Catholics, into a sign that people there were frightened at the so-called freedom of the gospel, and were inclined to return to the old system. But Luther at this moment displayed again the confidence which he always so gladly reposed in his Emperor. He announced on March 14 to Jonas, then absent on the business of the visitation: 'The Emperor Charles writes that he will come in person to Augsburg, to settle everything peaceably.' The Elector John immediately instructed his theologians to draw up for him articles in view of the proceedings at the Diet, embodying a statement of their own opinions. They were also required to hold themselves in readiness to accompany him on his journey to Augsburg. There was, however, no hurry about arriving there; for the Emperor came thither so slowly from Italy, that it was found impossible to meet on the day originally appointed.
On April 3 Luther, Melancthon, and Jonas went to the Elector at Torgau, in order to start with him from there. He took Spalatin also with him, and Agricola as preacher. The 10th, Palm Sunday, they spent at Weimar, where the prince wished to partake of the sacrament. At Coburg, where they arrived on the 15th, they expected to receive further news as to the day fixed for the actual opening of the Diet. Luther preached here on Easter Day, and on the following Monday and Thursday, upon the Easter texts and the grand acts of Redemption.
On Friday, the 22nd, the Elector received an intimation from the Emperor to appear at Augsburg at the end of the month. The next morning he set off at once with his companions. Luther, however, was to remain behind. The man on whom lay the ban of the Empire and Church could not possibly, however favourably inclined the Emperor might be towards him, have appeared before the Emperor, the Estates, and the delegates of the Pope; moreover, no safe-conduct would have availed him. Luther seems, nevertheless, to have been ingenuous enough to think the contrary. At least, he wrote to a friend that the Elector had bidden him remain at Coburg; why, he knew not. To another friend, however, he alleged as a reason, that his going would not have been safe. But his prince was anxious to keep him at any rate as close by as possible, at a safe place on the borders of his territory in the direction of Augsburg, so that he might be able to obtain advice from him in case of need. Moreover, he contemplated the possibility of his being summoned later on to Augsburg. A message from the one place to the other took, at that time, four days as a rule.
Accordingly, on the night of the 22nd, Luther was conveyed to the fortress overlooking the town of Coburg. This was the residence assigned to him.
His first day here passed by unoccupied. A box which he had brought, containing papers and other things, had not yet been delivered to him. He did not even see any governor of the castle. So he looked around him leisurely from the height, which offered a wide and varied prospect, and examined the apartments now opened for his use. The principal part of the castle, the so-called Prince's Building, had been assigned him, and he was given at once the keys of all the rooms it contained. The one which he chose as his sitting-room is still shown. He was told that over thirty people took their meals at the castle.
But his thoughts were still with his distant friends. He wrote that afternoon to Melancthon, Jonas, and Spalatin. 'Dearest Philip,' he begins to Melancthon, 'we have at last reached our Sinai, but we will make a Sion of this Sinai, and here will I build three tabernacles, one to the Psalms, one to the Prophets, and one to Æsop…. It is a very attractive place, and just made for study; only your absence grieves me. My whole heart and soul are stirred and incensed against the Turks and Mahomet, when I see this intolerable raging of the devil. Therefore I shall pray and cry to God, nor rest until I know that my cry is heard in heaven. The sad condition of our German Empire distresses you more.' Then, after expressing a wish that the Lord might send his friend refreshing sleep, and free his heart from care, he told him about his residence at the castle, in the 'empire of the birds.' In his letters to Jonas and Spalatin he indulged in humorous descriptions of the cries of the ravens and jackdaws which he had heard since four o'clock in the morning. A whole troop, he said, of sophists and schoolmen were gathered around him. Here he had also his Diet, composed of very proud kings, dukes, and grandees, who busied themselves about the empire and sent out incessantly their mandates through the air. This year, he heard, they had arranged a crusade against the wheat, barley, and other kinds of corn, and these fathers of the Fatherland already hoped for grand victories and heroic deeds. This, said Luther, he wrote in fun, but in serious fun, to chase away if possible the heavy thoughts which crowded on his mind. A few days later he enlarged further on this sportive simile in a letter to his Wittenberg table-companions, i.e. the young men of the university who, according to custom, boarded with him. He was delighted to see how valiantly these knights of the Diet strutted about and wiped their bills, and he hoped they might some day or other be spitted on a hedge-stake. He fancied he could hear all the sophists and papists with their lovely voices around him, and he saw what a right useful folk they were, who ate up everything on the earth and 'whiled away the heavy time with chattering.' He was glad, however, to have heard the first nightingale, who did not often venture to come in April.
As companions he had his amanuensis, Veit Dietrich from Nüremberg, and his nephew Cyriac Kaufmann from Mansfeld, a young student. The former, born in 1506, had been at the university of Wittenberg since 1523; he soon became preacher in his native town, where he distinguished himself by his loyalty and courage. They were all hospitably entertained at the castle. Luther, in these comfortable quarters, let his beard grow again, as he had formerly done at the Wartburg.
[Illustration: Fig. 40.—VEIT DIETRICH, as Pastor of Nüremberg.
(From an old woodcut.)]
In that same letter to Melancthon, Luther mentioned several writings which he had in prospect. His chief work was a public 'Admonition to the Clergy assembled at the Diet at Augsburg.' He wished, as he said in the introduction, since he could not personally appear at the Diet, at least to be among them in writing with this his 'dumb and weak message;' which he had expressed, however, in the strongest and most forcible language at his command. As for his own cause, he declared that for it no Diet was necessary. It had been brought thus far by the true Helper and Adviser, and there it would remain. He reminded them once more of the chief scandals and iniquities against which he had been forced to contend; he warned them not to strain the strings too tightly, lest perhaps a new rebellion might arise; and he promised them that if only they would leave the gospel free, they should be left in undisturbed possession of their principalities, their privileges, and their property, which in fact was all they cared for. This tract was already printed in May.
He now took up in earnest the labours he had spoken of to Melancthon. His chief work was the continuation of his German Bible, namely the translation of the Prophets. He had long complained of the difficulties presented by these Books, and he now hoped to have the leisure they required. Such was his zeal that, when he came to Jeremiah, he looked forward to finishing all the Prophets by Whitsuntide, but he soon saw that this was impossible. He published the prophecy of Ezekiel about Gog and Magog by itself. His wish was to treat of various portions of the Psalms, his own constant book of comfort and prayer, for the benefit of his congregation; and he began, accordingly, with a Commentary on the 118th Psalm. He expounded to Dietrich whilst at Coburg the first twenty-five Psalms; and the transcript of his commentary on these, which Dietrich left behind him, was afterwards printed.
And to these works he wished to add the fables of Æsop. His desire was to adapt them for youth and common men, that they should be of some profit to the Germans.' For among them, he said, were to be found, set forth in simple words, the most beautiful lessons and warnings, to show men how to live wisely and peacefully among bad people in the false and wicked world. Truth which none would endure, but which no man could do without, was clothed there in pleasing colours of fiction. For this work, however, Luther had very little time; we possess only thirteen fables of his version. He has rendered them in the simplest popular language, and expressed the morals in many appropriate German proverbs.
Luther thought at first that, with these occupations, he had better have remained at Wittenberg, where, as professor, he would have been of more service.
Soon his bodily sufferings—the singing and noise in the head, and the tendency to faintness,—began again to attack him; so that for several days he could neither read nor write, and for several weeks could not work continuously for any length of time. He did not know whether it was the effect of Coburg hospitality, or whether Satan was at fault. Dietrich thought his illness must be caused by Satan, since Luther had been particularly careful about his diet. He told also of a fiery, serpent-like apparition, which he and Luther had seen one evening in June at the foot of the Castle Hill. The same night Luther fainted away, and the next day was very ill; and this fact confirmed Dietrich in his belief.
On June 5 Luther received the news of the death of his aged father, who breathed his last at Mansfeld, on Sunday, May 29, after long suffering, and in the firm belief in the gospel preached by his son. Luther was deeply moved by this intelligence. He had never ceased to treat him with the same high filial veneration that had formerly prompted him to dedicate to his parent his treatise on Monastic Vows, and to invite him to the celebration of his marriage, made, as we have seen, in accordance with his father's wish. Since his marriage, indeed, his parents had come to visit him at Wittenberg; and the town accounts for 1527 contain an item of expense for a gallon of wine, given as a vin d'honneur to old Luther on that occasion. It was then that Cranach painted the portraits of Luther's parents which are now to be seen at the Wartburg. Luther had heard from his brother James in February 1530, that their father was dangerously ill. He sent a letter to him thereupon, on the 15th of that month, by the hands of his nephew Cyriac. He wrote: 'It would be a great joy to me if only you and my mother could come to us here. My Kate and all pray for it with tears. I should hope we would do our best to make you comfortable.' Meanwhile he prayed earnestly to his Heavenly Father to strengthen and enlighten with His Holy Spirit this father whom He had given him on earth. He would leave it in the hands of his dear Lord and Saviour whether they should meet one another again on earth or in heaven; 'for,' said he, 'we' doubt not but that we shall shortly see each other again in the presence of Christ, since the departure from this life is a far smaller matter with God, than if I were to come hither from you at Mansfeld, or you were to go to Mansfeld from me at Wittenberg.' After he had opened the letter with the news of his father's death, he said to Dietrich, 'So then, my father too is dead,' and then took his Psalter at once, and went to his room, to give vent to his tears. He expressed his grief and emotion the same day in a letter to Melancthon. Everything, he said, that he was or had, he had received through his Creator from this beloved father.
He kept up his intimacy with his friends at Wittenberg through his letters to his wife, and by a correspondence with his friend Jerome Weller, who had come to live in his house, and who assisted in the education of his son, little Hans. Weller, formerly a jurist, and already thirty years old, was then studying theology at Wittenberg. He suffered from low spirits, and Luther repeatedly sent him from Coburg comfort and good advice. The little Hans had now begun his lessons, and Weller praised him as a painstaking pupil. Luther's well-known letter to him was dated from Coburg, June 19. Written in the midst of the most serious studies and the most important events and reflections, it must on no account be omitted in a survey of Luther's life and character. It runs as follows:—
'Grace and peace in Christ, my dear little son. I am pleased to see that thou learnest thy lessons well, and prayest diligently. Do thus, my little son, and persevere; when I come home I will bring thee a fine "fairing." I know of a pretty garden where merry children run about that wear little golden coats, and gather nice apples and pears, and cherries, and plums under the trees, and sing and dance, and ride on pretty horses with gold bridles and silver saddles. I asked the man of the place, whose the garden was, and whose the children were. He said, "These are the children who pray and learn, and are good." Then I answered, "Dear sir, I also have a son who is called Hans Luther. May he not also come into this garden, and eat these nice pears and apples, and ride a little horse and play with these children?" The man said, "If he says his prayers, and learns, and is good, he too may come into the garden; and Lippus and Jost may come, [Footnote: Melancthon's son Philip, and Jonas's son Jodocus.] and when they all come back, they shall have pipes and drums and lutes and all sorts of stringed instruments, and they shall dance and shoot with little crossbows." Then he showed me a smooth lawn in the garden laid out for dancing, where hung pipes of pure gold, and drums and beautiful silver crossbows. But it was still early, and the children had not dined. So I could not wait for the dance, and said to the man, "Dear sir, I will go straight home and write all this to my dear little son Hans, that he may pray diligently and learn well and be good, and so come into this garden; but he has an aunt, Lene, [Footnote: Hans's great-aunt, Magdalen, mentioned in Part VI. Ch. vii.] whom he must bring with him." And the man answered, "So it shall be; go home and write as you say." Therefore, dear little son Hans, learn and pray with a good heart, and tell Lippus and Jost to do the same, and then you will all come to the beautiful garden together. Almighty God guard you. Give my love to aunt Lene, and give her a kiss for me. In the year 1530.—Your loving father, MARTIN LUTHER.'
The intercourse between Coburg and Augsburg was, as may be imagined, well kept up by letters and messengers.
But the crisis of importance arrived when now the great decision approached, or at least seemed to approach, for it was most unexpectedly delayed.
Though the Elector had entered Augsburg on May 2, the Emperor did
not arrive there till June 15. He had stopped on the way at
Innspruck, where Duke George and other princes hostile to the
Reformation hastened to present themselves before him.
In the meanwhile, Melancthon worked with great industry and anxious labour at the Apology and Confession which the Elector of Saxony was to lay before the Diet. Luther warned him, by his own example, against ruining his head by immoderate exertion. He wrote to him on May 12: 'I command you and all your company, that they compel you, under pain of excommunication, to keep your poor body by rule and order, so that you may not kill yourself and imagine that you do so from obedience to God. We serve God also by taking holiday and resting; yes, indeed, in no other way better.' Melancthon had begun this work at Coburg, while there with Luther, and based his most important propositions of dogma on the articles which Luther had drawn up in the previous autumn at Schwabach. His chief efforts, however, in accordance with his own inclination and line of thought, were directed to representing the evangelical doctrines as agreeing with the traditional doctrines of the universal Christian Church; and the Protestant Reformation as simply the abolition of certain practical abuses. Never would Luther have consented to submit to the Diet, and the Papists and enemies of the gospel there present, a Confession which marked so faintly the gulf of difference between himself and them. Nevertheless he gladly approved of this composition of his peace-making friend, which was sent to him for his opinion by the Elector immediately on its completion, on May 11. His verdict was: 'I like it well enough, and see nothing to alter or improve; indeed, I could not do so if I would, for I cannot tread so softly and gently. May Christ, our Lord, help that it may bring forth much fruit, as we hope and pray it will.' He encouraged the Elector, in a letter full of tender words of comfort, to keep his heart firm and patient, even if he had to stay in a tedious place. He pointed out to him God's great token of His love, in granting so freely to him and to his people the word of grace, and especially in allowing the tender youth, the boys and girls who were his subjects, to grow up in his country as in a pleasant Paradise of God.
News now reached them of the Emperor, that he blamed the Elector for the non-execution of the Edict of Worms, and forbade the clergymen whom the Protestant princes had brought to Augsburg, to preach there,—a prohibition against which even Luther admitted they were powerless. On the other side, Melancthon was particularly troubled and annoyed that the Landgrave Philip would not admit a repudiation of Zwingli's doctrine in the Confession, to which Melancthon attached the utmost importance, not only on account of the intrinsic objections to that doctrine, but chiefly in the interests of bringing about a reconciliation with the Catholics. He begged Luther, on May 22, to try and influence Philip by letter on this point.
Luther appears to have shown but little inclination to accede to the request. Melancthon, waiting for his assent, stopped writing to him. Meanwhile Luther's friends at Augsburg were looking with anxiety for the arrival and first appearance of the Emperor. Three whole weeks passed by before Luther again received a letter from them; it was just at this time that he was mourning the death of his father.
Luther was exceedingly indignant at this silence. On receiving another letter, on June 13, from Melancthon, who said he was impatiently waiting for the letter to the Landgrave, Luther sent back the messenger without an answer, and at first was unwilling even to read the letter. He did, however, now, what was asked of him. He earnestly but calmly entreated Philip not to espouse their opponents' doctrine of the Sacrament, or allow himself to be moved by their 'sweet good' words. And when now Melancthon, whom he had seriously frightened by his anger, grew restless and desponding and sleepless with increasing disquietude, through the difficulties at Augsburg, the threats of his embittered Catholic opponents, and the anxiety as to submitting the Confession to the Elector, and the consequences of so doing, and news also reached Luther of the troubles and distress of his other friends, he repeatedly sent to them at Augsburg fresh words of encouragement, comfort, and counsel, which remain to attest, more than anything else, the nobleness of his mind and character. He speaks, as from a height of confident, clear, and proud conviction, to those who are struggling in the whirl and vortex of earthly schemes and counsels. He has gained this height, and maintains it in the implicit faith with which he clings to the invisible God, as if he saw Him; and, raised above the world, he enjoys filial communion with his Heavenly Father.
In answering another anxious letter from Melancthon on the 27th, he reproved his friend for the cares which he allowed to consume him, and which were the result, he said, not of the magnitude of the task before him, but of his own want of faith. 'Let the matter be ever so great,' he said, 'great also is He who has begun and who conducts it; for it is not our work…. "Cast thy burthen upon the Lord; the Lord is nigh unto all them that call upon Him." Does He say that to the wind, or does He throw his words before animals?… It is your worldly wisdom that torments you, and not theology. As if you, with your useless cares, could accomplish anything. What more can the devil do than strangle us? I conjure you, who in all other matters are so ready to fight, to fight against yourself as your greatest enemy.'
Two days after, he had already another letter from his friend to answer. He saw from it, he said, the labour and trouble, the distress and tears of his friends. He received also the Confession, now completed, and had to give his opinion whether it would be possible to make still more concessions to the Romanists. Upon this point he wrote: 'Day and night I am occupied with it, I turn it over every way in my mind, I meditate and argue, and examine the Scriptures on the subject, and more and more convinced do I become of the truth of our doctrine, and more resolved never, if God will, to allow another letter to be torn from us, be the consequence what it may.' But he objected to the others speaking of 'following his authority;' the cause was theirs as much as his, and he himself would defend it, even if he stood alone. He then referred the anxious Melancthon again to that Faith which had certainly no place in his rhetoric or philosophy. For faith, he said, must recognise the Supernatural and the Invisible, and he who attempts to see and understand it receives only cares and tears for his reward, as Melancthon did now. 'The Lord said that He would dwell in the thick darkness,' 'and make darkness His secret place' (1 Kings viii. 12; Psalm xviii. 11). 'He who wishes, let him do differently; had Moses wished first to "understand" what the end of Pharaoh's army would be, then Israel would still be in Egypt. May the Lord increase faith in you and all of us; if we have that, what in all the world shall the devil do with us?'
He hastened to send off this letter, and wrote more again on the same subject the next day, June 30, to Jonas, who had informed him of Melancthon's afflictions and of the fierce hatred of their Catholic opponents; also to Spalatin, Agricola, and Brenz, and to the young Duke John Frederick. He sought to calm the latter about the 'poisonous, wicked talons' of his nearest blood-relations, especially the Duke George. He entreated all those theological friends to bring a wholesome influence to bear on their companion Melancthon, and for each of them he had particular words of affection. Melancthon, he wrote, must be dissuaded from wishing to direct the world and thus crucifying himself. The news that 'the princes and nations rage against the Lord's anointed,' he accepted as a good sign; for the Psalmist's words that immediately follow (Ps. ii. 4) were: 'He that sitteth in the heavens shall laugh: the Lord shall have them in derision.' He did not understand how men could be troubled since God still lives: 'He who has created me will be father to my son and husband to my wife; He will guide the community and be preacher to the congregation better than I can myself.' His letter to Melancthon shows in an interesting manner the contrast between himself and his friend with regard to cares and temptations. 'In private contests which concern one's own self, I am the weaker, you the stronger combatant; but in public ones, it is just the reverse (if, indeed, any contest can be called private which is waged between me and Satan); for you take but small account of your life, while you tremble for the public cause; whereas I am easy and hopeful about the latter, knowing as I do for certain that it is just and true, and the cause of God Himself, which has no consciousness of sin to make it blanch, as I must about myself. Hence, in the latter case, I am as a careless spectator.' Moreover he felt himself just now less visited by his old spiritual temptations, although the devil still made his body weary.
How Luther used to converse with God as his Father and Friend, Melancthon learned that day from Dietrich. The latter heard him pray aloud: 'I know that Thou art our Father and our God…. The danger is Thine as well as ours; the whole cause is Thine, we have put our hands to it because we were obliged to; do Thou protect it.' Luther daily devoted at least three hours to prayer. He liked all his family to do the same. He wrote home to his wife thus: 'Pray with confidence, for all is well arranged, and God will aid us.' Two years later he said in a sermon about the fulfilment of prayer: 'I have tried it, and many people with me, especially when the devil wanted to devour us at the Diet at Augsburg, and everything looked black, and people were so excited that everyone expected things would go to ruin, as some had defiantly threatened, and already knives were drawn and guns were loaded; but God, in answer to our prayers, so helped us, that those bawlers, with their clamour and menaces, were put thoroughly to shame, and a favourable peace and a good year granted to us.'
Just about this time, as Jonas announced to Luther, Duke John Frederick had the arms of the Reformer cut in stone for a signet ring, and Luther was requested, through his friend Spengler of Nüremberg, to explain their meaning. They were peculiarly appropriate to the times. Luther, as long ago, to our knowledge, as the year 1517, instead of his father's arms, which were a crossbow with two roses, had taken as his own one rose, having in its centre a heart with a cross upon it. This, he now explained, should be a black cross on a red heart; for, in order to be saved, it is necessary to believe with our whole heart in our crucified Lord, and the cross, though bringing pain and self-mortification, does not corrupt the nature, but rather keeps the heart alive. The heart should be placed in a white rose, to show that faith gives joy, comfort, and peace, and because white is the colour of the spirits and angels, and the joy is not an earthly joy. The rose itself should be set in an azure field; just as this joy is already the beginning of heavenly joy and set in heavenly hope, and outside, round the field, there should be a golden ring, because heavenly happiness was eternal and precious above all possessions.
[Illustration: FIG. 41.—LUTHER'S SEAL. (Taken from letters written in 1517.)]
[Illustration: FIG. 42.—LUTHER'S COAT OF ARMS. (From old prints.)]
Shortly after this, Luther received the great news that the summary of belief of German Protestants, or Augsburg Confession, had been submitted on June 25 to the Emperor and the Estates, in the German language. The Emperor, only the day before, had been anxious that it should not be read aloud, but only received in writing. Publicly, and in clear and solemn tones, the Saxon chancellor read the statement of that evangelical faith, which, only nine years before, at Worms, Luther had been required to retract. Luther was highly rejoiced. He saw fulfilled the words of the Psalmist, 'I will speak of Thy testimonies also before kings,' and he felt sure that the remainder of the verse, 'and will not be ashamed' (Ps. cxix. 46), would likewise be accomplished. He wrote to his Elector, saying it was, forsooth, a clever trick of their enemies to seal the lips of the princes' preachers at Augsburg. The consequence was, that the Elector and the other nobles 'now preached freely under the very noses of his Imperial Majesty and the whole Empire, who were obliged to hear them, and could not offer any opposition.' How sorry he felt not to have been present there himself! But he rejoiced to have seen the day when such men stood up in such an assembly, and so bravely bore witness to the truth of Christ.
Tidings also now arrived of a certain clemency and generosity even on the part of the Emperor, and of the peaceful disposition of some of the princes, such as Duke Henry of Brunswick, who invited Melancthon to dinner, and especially of Cardinal Albert, the Archbishop and Elector of Mayence. Luther, unlike Melancthon, was clear and certain on one point, that an agreement with their opponents on the questions of belief and religion was absolutely out of the question. But he now spoke out his opinion most decidedly as to a 'political agreement,' in spite of their differences of belief,—an agreement, in other words, that the two Confessions and Churches should peacefully exist together in the German Empire. This he wished, and almost hoped, might come to pass. In the Emperor Charles he recognised—he, the loyal-minded German—a good heart and noble blood, worthy of all honour and esteem. He did not dare to hope that the Emperor, surrounded as he was by evil advisers, should actually favour the Evangelical cause, but he believed at any rate so far in his clemency. In that spirit he once more by letter approached the Archbishop. Since there was no hope, he wrote, of their becoming one in doctrine, he begged him at least to use his influence that peace might be granted to the Evangelicals. For no one could be, or dared be, forced to accept a belief, and the new doctrine did no harm, but taught peace and preserved peace. He endeavoured further to appeal to the Archbishop's conscience as a German. 'We Germans do not give up believing in the Pope and his Italians until they bring us, not into a bath of sweat, but a bath of blood. If German princes fell upon one another, that would make the Pope, the little fruit of Florence, happy; he would laugh in his sleeve and say: "There, you German beasts, you would not have me as Pope, so have that."… I cannot hold my hands; I must strive to help poor Germany, miserable, forsaken, despised, betrayed, and sold—to whom indeed I wish no harm, but everything that is good, as my duty to my dear Fatherland commands me.'
Luther then would not only not hear of surrender, but looked upon as useless any further negotiations in matters of belief. He could not understand why his friends were detained any longer at Augsburg, where they had nothing to expect but menace and bravado on the part of their opponents. On July 15 he wrote to them: 'You have rendered unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's…. May Christ confess us, as you have confessed Him…. Thus I absolve you from this assembly in the Name of the Lord. Now go home again—go home!'
But they had still to wait for a Refutation, which the Emperor caused to be drawn up by some strict Catholic theologians, among whom were Eck, the old and ever violent and active enemy of Luther, and John Cochlaeus, originally a champion of Humanism, but who had, since the beginning of the great contest in the Church, distinguished himself by petty but bitter polemics against Luther, and now assisted Duke George in the place of the deceased Emser. Meanwhile the spiritual and temporal lords caused the Protestants to fear the worst. For Melancthon, these were his worst and weakest hours. He even sought to pacify the Papal legate, by representing that there was no dogma in which they differed from the Roman Church. He thought it possible that even large concessions might be made, so far at least as regarded the rites and services of the Church. For these were external things, and the bishops belonged to the authorities whom God had placed over the externals of life.
Luther therefore had still to wait with patience. He continued his encouraging letters, nor did even menaces disturb him. He remembered that too sharp an edge gets only full of notches, and that, as he had already been told by Staupitz, God first shuts the eyes of those He wishes to plague. To begin a war now would be dangerous even to their enemies; the beginning would lead to no progress, the war to no victory. To Melancthon he spoke, using a coarse German proverb, about a man who 'died of threatening.'
He drew his richest and most powerful utterances from his one highest source, the Scriptures. In his own peculiar manner he expressed himself once to Brück, the chancellor of the Saxon Elector, his temporal adviser at Augsburg, and a man who did much to further the Reformation. 'I have lately,' he wrote, 'on looking out of the window, seen two wonders: the first, the glorious vault of heaven, with the stars, supported by no pillar and yet firmly fixed; the second, great thick clouds hanging over us, and yet no ground upon which they rested, or vessel in which they were contained; and then, after they had greeted us with a gloomy countenance and passed away, came the luminous rainbow, which like a frail thin roof nevertheless bore the great weight of water.' If anyone amidst the present troubles was not satisfied with the power of faith, Luther would compare him to a man who should seek for pillars to prevent the heavens from falling, and tremble and shake because he could not find them. He was willing, as he wrote in this letter, to rest content, even if the Emperor would not grant the political peace they hoped for; for God's thoughts are far above men's thoughts, and God, and not the Emperor, must have the honour. In a letter to Melancthon he explained calmly and clearly the duty of distinguishing between the bishops as temporal princes or authorities, and the bishops as spiritual shepherds, and how, in this latter capacity, they must never be allowed the right of burdening Christ's flock with arbitrary rites and ordinances.
He now published a series of small tracts, one after the other, in which, with inflexible determination, he again asserted the evangelical principles against Catholic errors. In this spirit he wrote about the Church and Church authority; against purgatory; about the keys of the Church, or how Christ dispenses real forgiveness of sins to His community; against the worship of the saints; about the right celebration of the Sacrament, and so forth. Regardless of the pending questions of dispute, his thoughts reverted likewise to the needy condition of the schools: he wrote a special tract, 'On the duty of keeping Children at school.' His Commentary on the 118th Psalm was now followed by one upon the 117th. He also worked indefatigably at the translation of the Prophets. Thus steadily he persevered in his labours, suffering more or less in his head, always weak and 'capricious.' At the conclusion of his stay at Coburg he told a friend that, on account of the 'buzzing and dizziness' in his head, he had been obliged, with all his regularity of habits, to make a holiday of more than half the summer.
On August 3 the Catholic Refutation was at length submitted to the Diet. It showed indeed, as did the imperial proclamation convoking the Diet, that it was far from the Emperor's intention to have the opinions of both sides fairly heard and judged in a friendly and impartial spirit: on the contrary, he demanded that the Protestants should declare themselves convinced by it, and therefore conquered. The Landgrave Philip replied to this demand by quitting Augsburg on August 6, without the leave and contrary to the command of the Emperor, and hastening home, openly resolved, in case of need, to meet force by force. But the Emperor, though urged by Rome to take violent measures, was not prepared, as indeed Luther had guessed, for such a sudden stroke. He preferred to adopt a more peaceful and mediating course, and to attempt once more to settle the differences by a mixed commission of fourteen, and afterwards by a new and smaller committee, in which Melancthon alone represented the Evangelical theologians.
The Protestants had now to consider seriously the question of a possible submission which Melancthon had hitherto been anxiously pondering with himself. Luther's view of the entire standpoint and interests of the Romish Church was now confirmed by the fact that her representatives attached less importance to the more profound differences of doctrine in regard to the inward means of salvation, than to the restoration of episcopal rights and forms of worship, such as, in particular, the mass and the Sacrament in both kinds, which formed the principal difficulties during the negotiations. On the other hand, no one had taught more clearly than Luther the freedom which belongs to Christians in outward forms of constitution and worship, and which enables them to yield to and serve each other on these very points. But he had none the less earnestly cautioned against making concessions to ecclesiastical tyrants, who might make use of them to enslave and mislead souls. In this respect Melancthon now showed himself entirely resolved. He longed for a restoration of the Catholic episcopacy for the Evangelicals, not only for the sake of peace, but because he despaired of securing otherwise a genuine regulation of the Church in the face of arbitrary princes and undisciplined multitudes. In fact the Protestants on this commission were willing to promise lawful obedience to the bishops, if only the questions of service and doctrine were left to a free Council. As regarded the service of the mass the point at issue was whether the Protestants could not and ought not to accept it with its whole act of priestly sacrifice, if only an explanation were added as to the difference between this sacrifice and the sacrifice of Christ upon the Cross. Other Protestants, on the contrary, especially the representatives of Nüremberg, became suspicious and angry at such a way of settling matters, and especially at the behaviour of Melancthon. Spengler at Nüremberg wrote accordingly to Luther. The situation was all the more critical, since the negotiations, according to the wish of the Emperor, were to proceed uninterruptedly, and there was no time to obtain an opinion from Coburg.
Luther now, to whom the Elector submitted the Articles which were to bring about an agreement, sent a very calm, clear answer, entering into all the particulars. He gave a purely practical judgment, though resting upon the highest principles. Thus, with regard to the mass, he says that the Catholic liturgy contained the inadmissible idea that we must pray to God to accept the Body of His Son as a sacrifice; if this were to be explained in a gloss, either the words of the liturgy would have to be falsified by the gloss, or the gloss by the words of the liturgy. It would be wrong and foolish to run into danger unnecessarily about so troublesome a word. He warned Melancthon especially against the power of the bishops. He knew well that obedience to them meant a restriction of the freedom of the gospel; but the bishops would not consider themselves equally bound, and would declare it a breach of faith if everything that they wished were not observed. He then quietly expressed his conviction that the whole attempt at negotiation was a vain delusion. It was wished to make the Pope and Luther agree together, but the Pope was unwilling and Luther begged to be excused. Firmly and calmly he relied on the consciousness, whatever happened, of his own independence and strength. Thus he wrote to Spengler: 'I have commended the matter to God, and I think also I have kept it so well in hand that nobody can find me defenceless on any point so long as Christ and I are united.' To Spalatin he wrote: 'Free is Luther, and free also is the Macedonian (Philip of Hesse)…. Only be brave and behave like men!' We have taken this from letters rich in similar thoughts, addressed by Luther on August 26 to the Elector John, Melancthon, Spalatin, and Jonas, and from other letters written two days after to the three last-named friends and to Spengler. He likewise wrote for Brenz on the 26th a preface to his Exposition of the Prophet Amos. This preface shows us how Luther himself judged his own words which he sent forth with such power. His own speech, he says, is a wild wood, compared with the clear, pure flow of Brenz's language; it was, to compare small things with great, as if his was the strong spirit of Elijah, the wind tearing up the rocks, and the earthquake and fire, whereas Brenz's was the 'still, small voice.' Yet God needs also rough wedges for rough logs, and together with the fruitful rain He sends the storm of thunder and lightning to purify the air.
If, however, Protestantism was then threatened by danger from mistaken concessions, the danger was soon averted by the demands of its opponents, who went too far even for a Melancthon. The proceedings of the smaller committee had likewise to be closed without any result. On September 8 Luther was able at last to tell his wife that he hoped soon to return home; to his little Hans he promised to bring a 'beautiful large book of sugar,' which his cousin Cyriac, who had travelled with Luther to Augsburg and Nüremberg, had brought for him out of that 'beautiful garden.' On the 14th he received a visit from Duke John Frederick and Count Albert of Mansfeld upon their return from the Diet. The former brought him the signet ring, which, however, was too large even for his thumb; he remarked that lead, not gold, was fitting for him. He only wished he could see his other friends also escaped from Augsburg; and although the Duke was ready to take him away with him, he preferred to remain behind at Coburg, in order, as he wrote to Melancthon, to receive them there and wipe off their perspiration after their hot bath.
At Augsburg negotiations were re-opened with Melancthon and Brück; the Nüremberg deputy even thought it necessary to complain in the strongest terms of an 'underhand unchristian stratagem' against which Melancthon would no longer listen to a word of remonstrance; and Luther, who heard of these complaints through Spengler and Link, expressed indeed his full confidence to his Saxon theologians, and was particularly anxious not to wound Melancthon, but earnestly and pressingly begged him and Jonas, on the 20th of the month, to inform him about the matter, to be on their guard against the crafty attacks of their enemies, and to renounce finally all idea of a compromise. While, however, these letters were on their way past Nüremberg through Spengler's hands, it was already known there that the new attempt, especially that against the constancy of Jonas and Spalatin, had shipwrecked, and Spengler consequently did not forward them to their address. The Evangelical States adhered to their Protest of 1529 and to the Imperial Recess of 1526.
The Emperor made known his displeasure at this result, but found that even those princes who were most zealous against the innovations, were not equally zealous to plunge into at least a doubtful war for the extirpation of heresy, and the aggrandisement, moreover, of the Emperor's authority and power, and accordingly he resolved to put off the decision. On the 22nd he announced a Recess, which gave the Protestants, whose Confession, it was stated, had been publicly heard and refuted, time till the 15th of the following April for consideration whether, in the matter of the articles in dispute, they would return to unity with the Church, Pope, and Empire. The Emperor, meanwhile, engaged to bring about the meeting of a Council within a year, for the removal of real ecclesiastical grievances, but reserved until that period the consideration of what further steps should eventually be taken. The Evangelicals protested that their Confession had never been refuted, and proceeded to lay before the Emperor an apology for it, drawn up by Melancthon. They accepted the time offered for consideration. So far then the promise was given of the political peace which Luther had wished and hoped for. Referring to the other dangers and menaces before them, he said to Spengler: 'We are cleared and have done enough; the blood be upon their own head.'
Yet another attempt at union came to Luther at Coburg from quite a different quarter. Strasburg, and three other South German towns, Constance, Memmingen, and Lindau, differing as they did from the Lutherans in the Sacramental controversy, had laid before the Diet a Confession of their own—the so-called Tetrapolitana. They too, like Zwingli, refused to recognise any partaking of the Body of Christ by the mouth and body of the receiver, but at the same time, unlike him, they based their whole view of the Eucharist on the assumption of a real Divine gift and a spiritual enjoyment of the 'real Body' of Christ. On the strength of this view, Butzer, the theological representative of Strasburg, sought to make further overtures to the Wittenbergers. He was not deterred by Melancthon's mistrustful opposition or by Luther's leaving a letter of his unanswered. He now appeared in person at the Castle of Coburg, and on September 25 had a confidential and friendly interview with Luther. The latter still refused to content himself with a mere 'spiritual partaking,' and, though demanding above all things entire frankness, did not himself conceal a constant suspicion. However, he himself began to hope for good results, and assured Butzer he would willingly sacrifice his life three times over, if thereby this division might be put an end to. This fortunate beginning encouraged Butzer to further attempts, which he made afterwards in private.
The day after the reading of the Recess, the Elector John was able at length to leave the Diet and set forward on his journey home. The Emperor took leave of him with these words: 'Uncle, Uncle, I did not look for this from you.' The Elector, with tears in his eyes, went away in silence. After staying a short time at Nüremberg, he paid a visit, with his theologians, to Luther. They left Coburg together on October 5, and travelled by Altenburg, where Luther preached on Sunday, the 9th, to the royal residence at Torgau. After Luther had also preached here on the following Sunday, he returned to his home.