In the above instances the Catholic could find support for his conscience in the infallible authority of the Church. It was this authority which forbade him Luther’s writings as heretical, and, in the case of contrition—which Luther also brings forward—it was likewise his religious faith, which, consonantly with man’s natural feeling, demanded such sorrow for sin. In earlier days authority and faith were the reliable guides of conscience without which it was impossible to do. Luther left conscience to itself or referred it to his own words and his reading of Scripture, though this again, as he himself acknowledged, was not an absolute rule; thus he leaves it a prey to a most unhappy uncertainty—unless, indeed, it was able to “find assurance” in the way he wishes.
Quite early in his career he also gave the following instruction to those of the clergy who were living in concubinage on how to form their conscience; they were “to salve their conscience” and take the female to their “wedded wife,” even though this were against the law, fleshly or ghostly. “Your soul’s salvation is of more account than any tyrannical laws.... Let him who has the faith to take the risk follow me boldly.” “I will not deceive him,” he adds apologetically, but at least he had “the power to advise him regarding his sins and dangers”; he will show them how they may do what they are doing, “but with a good conscience.”[244] For as Luther points out in another passage, even though their discarding of their supposed obligation of celibacy had taken place with a bad conscience, still the Bible-texts subsequently brought forward, read according to the interpretation of the new Evangelist, avail to heal their conscience.[245] At any rate, so he tells the Teutonic Knights when inviting them to break their vow of chastity: “on the Word of God we will risk it and do it in the teeth of and contrary to all Councils and Churches! Close eyes and ears and take God’s Word to heart.”[246] Better, he cries, go on keeping two or three prostitutes than seek of a Council permission to marry![247]
These were matters for “those to risk who have the faith,” so we have heard him say. In reality all did depend on people’s faith ... in Luther, on their conviction that his doctrine and his moral system were right.
But what voice was to decide in the case of those who were wavering?
On the profoundest questions of moral teaching, it is, according to Luther, the “inward judgment” that is to decide what “spirit” must be followed. “For every Christian,” he writes, “is enlightened in heart and conscience by the Holy Ghost and by God’s Grace in such a way as to be able to judge and decide with the utmost certainty on all doctrines.” It is to this that the Apostle refers when he says: “A spiritual man judges all things” (1 Cor. iii. 15). Beyond this, moreover, Scripture constitutes an “outward judgment” whereby the Spirit is able to convince men, it being a “ghostly light, much brighter than the sun.”[248] It is highly important “to be certain” of the meaning of the Bible,[249] though here Luther’s own interpretation was, needless to say, to hold the field. The preachers instructed by him were to say: “I know that the doctrine is right in God’s sight” and “boast” of the inward certainty they shared with him.[250]
Luther’s rules for the guidance of conscience in other matters were quite similar. Subjectivism becomes a regular system for the guidance of conscience. In this sense it was to the person that the final decision was left. But whether this isolation of man from man, this snatching of the individual from dutiful submission to an authority holding God’s place, was really a gain to the individual, to religion and to society, or not rather the reverse, is only to be settled in the light of the history of private judgment which was the outcome of Luther’s new principle.
Of himself Luther repeats again and again, that his knowledge and conscience alone sufficed to prove the truth of his position;[251] that he had won this assurance at the cost of his struggles with conscience and the devil. Ulenberg, the old writer, speaking of these utterances in his “Life of Luther,”[252] says that his hero mastered his conscience when at the Wartburg, and, from that time, believed more firmly than ever that he had gained this assurance by a Divine revelation (“cœlesti quadam revelatione”), for which reason he had then written to his Elector that he had received his lead solely from heaven.[253]
In matters of conscience wherever the troublesome “Law” comes in we can always trace the devil’s influence; we “must come to grips with him and fight him,”[254] only the man who has been through the mill, as he himself had, could boast of having any certainty: “The devil is a juggler. Unless God helps us, our work and counsel is of no account; whether we turn right or left he remains the Prince of this world. Let him who does not know this just try. I have had some experience of this. But let no one believe me until he too has experienced it.”[255]
Not merely in the case of his life-work in general, but even in individual matters of importance, the inward struggles and “agonies” through which he had passed were signs by which to recognise that he was in the right. Thus, for instance, referring to his hostile action in Agricola’s case, Luther says: “Oh, how many pangs and agonies did I endure about this business. I almost died of anxiety before I brought these propositions out into the light of day.”[256] Hence it was plain, he argued, how far he was from the palpable arrogance displayed by his Antinomian foe, and how evidently his present conduct was willed by God.