Here he no longer gives the world “a bare hundred years more,” nor even something “not more than fifty years”;[940] he almost expects the end to come before the completion of his translation of the Bible into German.[941] The world will certainly not last until 1548, so he declared, “for this would run counter to Ezechiel.”[942] He is not quite sure whether the Golden Age begins in 1540 or not, though such was the contention of the mathematicians; but “we shall see the fulfilment of Scripture,”[943] or at any rate, as he prudently adds elsewhere, our descendants will. But before this can come the “great light” of faith would have to be dimmed still more.[944]
Luther concludes by saying that he is unable to suggest anything further; he had done all he could; God’s vengeance on the world was so great, he declares, that he could no longer give any advice; for “amongst us whom God has treated so mercifully and on whom He has bestowed all His Graces there is nothing left that is not corrupted and perverted.”[945] “On divine authority we began to amend the world, but it refuses to hearken; hence let it crumble to ruins, for such is its fate!”[946]
In his predictions concerning the end of the world Luther did not sufficiently take to heart the mishap which befell his pupil and friend Michael Stiefel, though he himself had been at pains to reprove him. Stiefel had calculated that the end of the world would come at 8 a.m. on Oct. 19, 1533, at which hour he and his parishioners awaited it assembled in the church at Lochau. Their watch was, however, in vain; the world continued to go its way and the Court judged it expedient to remove the preacher for a while from his post.
Taking these eschatological ideas or rather ardent wishes of Luther’s later life in all their bearings, and giving due weight to the almost unbounded dominion they exercised over his mind, one might well incline to see in them signs of an unhealthy and overwrought mind. They seem to have been due to excessive mental strain, to the reaction following on the labours of his long life’s struggle in the cause of his mission. It is not unlikely that pathology played some part in the depression from which he suffered.
His early theological development also throws some light on the psychological problem, owing to a parallel which it affords.
The middle-point and mainstay of his theology, viz. his doctrine of Justification, was wholly a result of his own personal feelings; after cutting it, so to speak, to his own measure he proceeded to make it something of world-wide application, a doctrine which should rule every detail of religious life, and around which all theology should cluster if it is to be properly understood. In a similar way, after beginning by adapting to his own case the theory of the near end of the world—to which he was early addicted—he gradually came to find in it the clue wherewith to unravel all the knotty problems which began to present themselves. It became his favourite plan to regard everything in the light of the end of the world and advent of Christ. Just as he was fond of asseverating, in spite of all the contradictions it involved, that he could find in his dogma of Justification endless comfort for both himself and the faithful, so, too, he came to regard the Last Day, in spite of all its terrors, as the source of the highest, nay, of the only remaining, joy of life, for himself and for all. With a vehemence incomprehensible to sober reason he allowed himself to be carried away by this idea as he had been by others. Such was his temperament that he could rejoice in the coming of the Judge, Who should deliver him from the bonds of despair.
Hence Luther’s expectation of the end of the world was something very different from that of certain Saints of whom Church-history tells us. Pope Gregory I or Vincent Ferrer were not moved to foretell the approaching end of the world by disgust with life, by disappointment, or as a result of waging an unequal struggle with the Church of their day, nor again because they regarded the destruction of the world as the only escape from the confusion they had brought about. Nor do they speak of the end of the world with any fanatical expectation of their own personal salvation, but rather with a mixture of fear and calm trust in God’s bounty to the righteous; they have none of Luther’s pessimism concerning the world, and, far from desiring things to “take their course,”[947] they exerted every nerve to ensure the everlasting salvation of as many of their fellow-creatures as possible before the advent of the Judge; to this end they had recourse to preaching and the means of grace provided by the Church and insisted greatly on the call for faith and good works. Above all, they gave a speaking proof of their faith by their works and by the inspiring example of heroic sanctity.
[3. Melanchthon under the Double Burden, of Luther’s Personality and his own Life’s Work]
The personality of Luther counts for much among the trials which embittered Melanchthon’s life.
The passages already quoted witnessing thereto[948] must here be supplemented by what he himself says of his experiences at Luther’s side, in a letter he wrote in 1548 to the councillor Carlowitz and the Court of Saxony. There was some doubt as to what attitude Melanchthon would adopt towards Maurice of Saxony, the new sovereign, the victor of the Schmalkalden War, and to his demands in the matter of religion.