The child was brought, and greeted his sick father with a smile. Tenderly the cold hand caressed his warm, rosy cheeks, and the pallid lips pronounced a father's blessing: "O thou poor child! I commit my dear wife and my fatherless child into the hands of my loving, faithful God. You have nothing, for I leave you no earthly goods; but God has enough for all. Dear Lord, I thank Thee from my heart, that it hath pleased Thee to make me poor in worldly things; I can therefor leave to my wife and child neither house nor land, neither money nor goods. As Thou gavest me them, so I return them to Thee. Thou rich and faithful God, do Thou sustain, teach, and provide for them, even as thou didst sustain, teach and provide for me, O Thou Father of the fatherless, Thou Friend of the widow."
Katharine's heart was wrung with grief. God, in his unsearchable wisdom, was laying a heavy sorrow upon her. For two years she had enjoyed the blessedness of her union with this man; henceforth she and her child must stand alone, poor and defenceless; dependent upon the uncertain favor of human friendship; exposed to the scorn and hatred of enemies, who would make the living feel the insults they might no longer heap upon the dead!—When she thought of herself and the child, her heart seemed well-nigh breaking; but when she looked at her husband, and heard his prayer in her behalf, strength was given her, to endure in silence, and even to speak words of comfort to the sufferer. Bending over him, she said gently: "My dearest Doctor, if it be God's Will, I would rather you were with Him, than with me. I grieve not for myself and for my child only, but for the many good Christian people, who still have need of you. Do not, my dearest husband, trouble yourself about me. I commend you to God's holy Will, and hope and trust that He will graciously spare you."
It seemed as though her words inspired the others with renewed courage. The physician, who had given up all hope, ordered the cold limbs to be again warmed and rubbed. Love and friendship labored faithfully to restore the precious life, and prayer after prayer rose to heaven.
Then came the merciful answer: "Behold, he shall not die, but live!" It seemed like a miracle when the color returned to the pallid face, and the drops of moisture which appeared on the sick man's forehead seemed like dew from Heaven.
The physician exclaimed: "He lives! He lives!" As one intoxicated by the sudden change from despair to hope, the loving wife fell at the feet of him to whom God had revealed the means of preserving her husband's life.
* * * * * * * * * *
His life was out of danger, but his soul—as he said—was still tossed to and fro between Christ and Belial, and miserably bruised. He supposed that he would all his life long be compelled to wade through deep waters of tribulation, but would gladly submit, if it contributed to the glory of his God and Saviour.
Then God sent him an angel of consolation, which to others was an angel of terror. That which cast them down, raised up Dr. Martin. That which shook the faith of strong men, and drove them to despair, restored to him the vigor of his faith and his heroic trust in the living God.
He that sits upon the pale horse rode in at the gates of Wittenberg, holding in his hand the naked sword, to which all living things must succumb. It was that terror of terrors—the plague.
The citizens were panic-stricken, and a stubborn fatalism seemed to seize upon their minds. The Elector's command came from Torgau to the University: "Let teachers and students leave Wittenberg, and seek safety in Jena!" In the Augustinian Convent sat the foremost among the teachers of the University, and in holy defiance replied to the Elector's anxious demand: "I shall remain; I dare not go!" Another urgent request came to him from his sovereign, but his answer was the same: "I shall remain; I dare not go."