Life of Luther

by Julius Köstlin

While all this was going on, the newly-opened rupture between Luther and the Swiss remained unhealed. In the spring of 1545 Bullinger published a clever reply to his 'Short Confession.' It could, however, effect no reconciliation, for, mild as was its language in comparison with the violence of Luther's, it made too much merit of this mildness, while, as Calvin, for example, accused the author, it imputed more to Luther than common fairness justified, took him to task for his manner of speaking, and contributed nothing to an understanding in point of dogma. From the impression produced by this letter upon Luther, fears were entertained again for Melancthon, who had continued to maintain a friendly correspondence with Bullinger; and Melancthon himself felt very anxious about the result. But not one harsh or suspicious or unkind word was uttered by Luther. He only wished to answer the Zurichers briefly and to the point, for he had written, he said, quite enough on the subject against Zwingli and Oecolampadius, and did not want to spoil the last years of his life with arrogant and idle chatter. He only inserted afterwards in a series of theses, with which he replied in the late summer of that year to a fresh condemnation pronounced against him by the theologians of Louvain, an article against the Zwinglians, declaring that they and all those who disgraced the Sacrament by denying the actual bodily reception of the true Body of Christ were undoubtedly heretics and schismatics from the Christian Church. This doctrinal antagonism was sufficient even now, when the test of actual war was imminent, to keep the Swiss excluded from the League of Schmalkald.

Luther still continued, in the face of menaces, to trust in God, his Helper hitherto, and he found in the latest signs of the times still more convincing proof of the End, which seemed to be at hand. In the miserable oppression of the Germano-Roman Empire by the Turks he saw a sign of its approaching downfall, as also in the impotence displayed by the Imperial Government even in small matters of administration. There was no longer any justice, any government; it was an Empire without an Empire; and he rejoiced to believe that with the end of this Empire the last day—the day of salvation—was approaching.

But more painful and harassing to him than even the threats of the Romanists and the attacks upon his teaching, which his own words, he was convinced, had long since refuted, was the condition of Wittenberg and the university. It was a favourite reproach against him of the Catholics that his doctrine yielded no fruits of strict morality. Notwithstanding all the rebukes which he had uttered for years, we hear of the old vices still rampant at Wittenberg—the vices of gluttony, of increasing intemperance and luxury, especially at baptisms and weddings; of pride in dress and the low-cut bodices of ladies; of rioting in the streets; of the low women who corrupted the students; of extortion, deceit, and usury in trade; and of the indifference and inability of the authorities and the police to put down open immorality and misdemeanours. Things of which there were growing complaints at that time in the German towns and universities became intolerable to the aged Reformer, who had no longer the power to bring his whole influence to bear upon his own fellow-townsmen.

In the summer of 1545 he was tortured again by his old enemy the stone. On Midsummer day his tormentor—as he wrote to a friend—would have done for him had God not willed it otherwise. 'I would rather die,' he adds, 'than be at the mercy of such a tyrant.'

A few weeks later he sought refreshment for mind and body in a journey. He first travelled with his colleague Cruciger by way of Leipzig to Zeitz, where Cruciger had to settle a dispute between two clergymen. On the road he was cordially received by several acquaintances, and that did him good. At Zeitz he took part in the proceedings. He was anxious to proceed farther, to Merseburg, for his friend there, George of Anhalt, had seized the opportunity to send him a pressing invitation, in order to receive from him his consecration. But the painful experiences he had made at Wittenberg pursued him on his travels, and were aggravated by much that he heard about his own town. On July 28 he wrote from Zeitz to his wife, saying, 'I should be so glad not to return to Wittenberg; my heart is grown cold, so that I don't care about being there any longer…. So I will roam about and rather beg my bread than vex my poor remaining days with the disorderly doings at Wittenberg, with my hard and precious labour all lost.' He actually wished that they should sell the house and garden at Wittenberg, and go and live at Zulsdorf. The Elector, he said, would surely leave him his salary at least for one year more, near as he was to the close of his fast-waning life, and he would spend the money in improving his little farm. He begged his wife, if she would, to let Bugenhagen and Melancthon know this.

The excitement, however, as might be hoped, was only temporary. To quiet his emotion, the university at once sent Bugenhagen and Melancthon to him, the Wittenberg magistrate sent the burgomaster, and the Elector his private physician Ratzeberger. The Elector also reminded him in a friendly manner that he ought to have apprised him beforehand of his intention to take this journey, to enable him to provide an escort and defray his expenses. The Wittenberg theologians, sent as deputies to Merseburg, had now arrived there, and met Luther on August 2, at the solemn consecration of George. Luther stayed with his host for a couple of days, during which he preached in the neighbouring town of Halle, and was here presented by the town-council with a cup of gold. This journey improved his health. After having paid a visit to the Elector, at his desire, at Torgau, he returned on the l6th of the month to Wittenberg, where an attempt was now being made to put down, by an ordinance of police, the immorality he had denounced.

He now resumed his lectures, in which he was still busily engaged with the Book of Genesis, and which he brought at length to an end on November 17. He also preached at Wittenberg several times in the afternoons, it being unadvisable for him to do so any longer in the mornings on account of his health. He further occupied himself in writing a sequel to his first book against the Papacy, and at the same time meditated a letter against the Sacramentarians.

The autumn of this year brought with it a matter from Mansfeld, having nothing indeed to do with religion or doctrine, but which called him away from Wittenberg. The Counts of Mansfeld had long been quarrelling among themselves about certain rights and revenues, especially in connection with Church patronage. Luther had already entreated them earnestly in God's name to come to a peaceful agreement. They now at length agreed so far as to invite his mediation, and obtained permission from the Elector, who, however, would rather have seen Luther spared this trouble. Luther all his life had cherished a warm and grateful affection for this his early home; whilst labouring for his great Fatherland of Germany, he called Mansfeld his own special fatherland. Wearied as he was, he resolved to serve his home once more.

At the beginning of October, accordingly, he journeyed thither with Melancthon and Jonas, but his visit proved in vain, since the Counts, before he could do anything for them, were called away to war. He held himself in readiness, however, to make a second attempt.

In the meantime Luther quickly composed another pamphlet, with reference to the Duke of Brunswick, who three years before had been driven from his country by the Landgrave Philip and the Saxon princes, and had now suddenly invaded it again, but was defeated and taken prisoner by the combined forces of the allied princes, assisted also by the Counts of Mansfeld. At the instigation of the chancellor Brück, and with the consent of his Elector, Luther addressed a public letter to the princes and the Landgrave, and had it printed. In it he warned them not to allow—as Philip for various reasons seemed inclined to do—so dangerous a prisoner to go free, and thereby to tempt God. Behind the Duke he saw the Pope and the Papists, without whom he would never have been able to carry on his campaign. They should at any rate wait and see until the thoughts of hearts should be further revealed. None the less did he warn the victors against self-exaltation and arrogance.