Olaf, on his side, endowed with a spirit of integrity and with a sincere and living faith, had a vivacity of temperament which prevented him from pondering the path of his feet. He could not endure contradiction, he could hardly forget an offence, and he was too prone to attribute malevolent motives to his adversaries. He not only believed that the king intended to destroy the liberty of the Church (which was the fact), but also that his obstinate maintenance of Romish customs among the people would throw them back again into the Romish apostasy. He began loudly to complain of Gustavus. He said to all about him that the king was completely changed, and certainly for the worse. He did not refrain from speaking in this manner even in the presence of flatterers of Gustavus. The enemies of the reformer hastened to take advantage of this. They reported to the king what they had heard Olaf say, adding to it exaggerations of their own invention.[[478]] Their one object was to stir up hatred, and that implacable, between the king and the reformer. They did not gain their end at the first stroke; but a change was gradually wrought in the relations between these two men, both so necessary to Sweden. The king manifested to Olaf his unconcern by his manner and his words. He saw him much less frequently; and when he did send for him, there was a reserve in his reception which struck the reformer. Frequently when Olaf requested to see the king, the latter refused to admit him; or if he did receive him, business was despatched as speedily as possible, as if his only care was to get rid of him. This coolness, while it greatly grieved the sincere friends of the Gospel, rejoiced its adversaries; and on both sides the people were wondering, some with a sense of alarm, others with secret but deep joy, whether Gustavus in thus gradually estranging himself from the reformer was not at the same time making friends with the pope, and whether a few steps more would not precipitate him into the abyss.

Olaf himself, who while complaining of Gustavus had nevertheless up to this time entertained no doubt of his good intentions, now took offence, and resolved to avail himself of his rights as a minister of the Word of God. Ought he to conceal the truth because it was to a prince that it must be spoken? Did not Elijah rebuke Ahab, and John the Baptist Herod? The feeling which blinded him did not allow him to apprehend the important difference existing between a Gustavus and an Ahab. An obvious fault of the king had often struck him. The habit of swearing in a fit of anger was very common at the court and in the town, and Gustavus set the example. Olaf, pained to hear the name of God thus taken in vain, preached against the sin. He did not hesitate, at the close of his sermon, to designate the king as setting the example of swearing. He even had his discourse printed; and letting loose his displeasure, he complained loudly of the obstacles which the king placed in the way of a thorough reformation. The young pastors, encouraged by the example of their chief, went further than he did. They complained of the commands which the king had given them, and gave free vent to their indignation against a despotism which was, in their view, an attempt to violate the rights of the Word of God and of Christian freedom.

It was a serious matter, and Gustavus was much moved by it. He resolved to appeal to the archbishop. The primate, more temperate than his brother, confined himself to the duties of his calling. He was never seen either in places of amusement or at the court, which his predecessors used frequently to visit; but he was always at work in his diocese. In consequence of the death of the queen, he had gone at the king’s call to Stockholm, to marry him to his second wife, and had immediately returned to Upsala to devote himself to his work. Gustavus esteemed Lawrence; but he was, nevertheless, somewhat out of temper with him, because he knew that at bottom he shared his brother’s sentiments. To him, in his capacity of archbishop, the king addressed his mandate, in September, 1539. ‘We had expected of you and of your brother,’ said Gustavus, ‘more moderation and more assistance in matters of religion. True, I do not know how a sermon ought to be composed, but still I will tell you that preachers ought to confine themselves to setting forth the essence of religion without setting themselves up against ancient customs. You wrote me word that sermons were being preached at Upsala on brotherly love, on the life acceptable to God, on patience in affliction, and on other Christian virtues. Very good: see to it that similar sermons are preached throughout the kingdom. Christ and Paul taught obedience to the higher powers; but from the pulpits of Sweden are too often heard declamations against tyranny, and insulting language against the authorities. I am accused, abuses which are complained of are imputed to me, and these insults are published by the press. Holy Scripture teaches us that a minister ought to exhort his hearers to seek after sanctification. If people had any real grounds of complaint against my government, why not make them known to me privately instead of publishing them before the whole congregation?‘[[479]]

The Mock Suns.

This letter, addressed to the archbishop of Upsala, instead of soothing the Stockholm minister, irritated him and inflamed still more his ardent zeal. A circumstance which had little connection with the religious interests of Sweden, convinced him that the time was come to denounce the judgments of God. Olaf, in common with some of the most enlightened men of his time, among others Melanchthon, believed in astrological predictions. Seven or eight mock suns, reflecting in the clouds the image of the sun, appeared over Stockholm at this time. The sun was of course Gustavus, and the mock suns were so many pretenders who were on the point of appearing around the king, one or other of whom would take his place. ‘It is a token of God’s anger and of the chastisement which is at hand,’ exclaimed Olaf in his pulpit. ‘Punishment must come, for the powers that be have fallen into error.’ The unfortunate Olaf did more. Exasperated by the part which the king was taking in the government of the Church, he caused these mock suns to be painted on a canvas, and this he hung up in the church, in order that all might satisfy themselves that God condemned the government and that His judgments were near.[[480]] This proceeding was even more ridiculous than blameworthy, but it was both. It took place, undoubtedly, after the king in his capacity of Summus Episcopus had addressed the letter to the archbishop; for although he spoke in it of the sermons on swearing, there is no reference to that on the mock suns, which was, moreover, by far the most serious affair.

The anger of Gustavus against Olaf was now at its height. His enemies gladly seized the weapon with which by his mistakes he furnished them against himself; and already they insulted him with their looks. A storm was gathering against the reformer; and Anderson, whose elevation and influence had made many jealous, was to fall with his friend. These two personages being manifestly in disgrace, the number of those who contributed to their ruin was daily increasing; and it seemed as though nothing short of the death of the objects of their hatred could satisfy them.

All this would have been without effect if Gustavus had continued to protect the liberty of the reformers. But he thought (this is at least our opinion) that he might take advantage of the animosity existing between the two parties for maintaining his own universal and absolute authority. Olaf was blinded by excess of zeal, and Anderson did not sufficiently subordinate the interests of religion to those of politics. A sharp lesson must be given to each of them. Olaf was accused of having delivered seditious sermons, and of having censured in a historical work the ancestors of the king. This was not enough.

Charges Against Olaf And Anderson.

Some still more serious charge must be made. For this they went back four years (1536), and it was given out that the project, formed by the German inhabitants of Stockholm, of favoring the attack by the Hanse Towns, had been confided to Olaf under the seal of confession—this institution was still in existence—and that he had not made it known. Even if this supposition had any foundation, was it not truer still that the hostility of the Germans was universally known, and especially by the vigilant Gustavus? But, in fact, there was little more in the case than rumors, no attempt whatever at execution of the plan having ever been made. To suppose that Olaf had intended to injure the king, his own benefactor and the saviour of Sweden, is a senseless hypothesis. Many other persons in Stockholm had learnt as much of the matter and more than he had. But the enemies of the Reformation wanted to get rid of the reformer; they must have some pretext, and this appeared to be sufficient. People asked, indeed, why Olaf had not been prosecuted for this offence four years before, and why since that time no inquiry had been set on foot about it. But all improbabilities were passed over. All the passions of men combined against Olaf. Men of lower degree felt the hatred of envy caused by the elevation of the son of the ironmaster of Orebro. The great felt the hatred of pride, a hatred which is seldom appeased. Worldly and bad men, such as were not wanting at the court, felt that irreconcilable hatred which is cherished against those who declare war on vice and worldliness. The king commanded that Olaf as well as Anderson should be brought to trial. The writer who recounts, in a not very authentic manner, the alleged offence of the reformers, was a zealous Roman Catholic, and besides this a very credulous man.[[481]] The archives of Lübeck, the town which played the leading part in the attack of which it was alleged that Olaf was an accomplice, are very complete for the history of this period; but they do not contain the slightest trace of any proceeding of the kind.[[482]] Men of peremptory character resemble each other; and, although Gustavus Vasa was infinitely superior to Henry VIII., the proceedings against Olaf and Anderson remind us of those instituted by the king of England against his wives, his most devoted ministers, and his best friends. The same court influences, and the same pliability on the part of the judges were found in both cases; and, by a stroke which recalled the Tudor sovereign, the king insisted that the archbishop should sit as a judge at the trial of his brother. Olaf and Anderson were condemned to death in the spring of 1540. This was paying rather dear for the folly of the mock suns. ‘Simplicity,’ it is said, ‘is better than jesting’; and a simple and credulous proceeding often disarms the man who has a right to complain of it. Olaf had been simple and credulous, but his foolishness did not disarm the king.

The sentence which filled the ultramontanes with joy threw consternation among the evangelical Christians, and especially among the parishioners of Olaf. The man who had so often consoled and exhorted them was to be smitten like a criminal. They could not bear to think of it. They remembered all the services which he had rendered them, and, what does not often happen in this world, they were grateful. They therefore bestirred themselves, interceded in behalf of their pastor, and offered to pay a ransom for his life. The king did not push matters to extremities, but granted a pardon. Perhaps his only intention had been to inspire fear in those who assumed to set limits to his power. The townsmen of Stockholm paid for their pastor fifty Hungarian florins. Anderson also saved his life, but by a payment out of his own purse. These pecuniary penalties contributed to keep people in mind that the king was not to be contradicted.