[Illustration: Fig. 55.—JONAS' GLASS. The date when the portraits of Luther and Jonas, together with the Latin verses and their translation, were executed, is uncertain, (a) Luther. (bb) Translation of Luther's verses. (cc) 'Dat vitrum vitro Jonæ vitrum ipse Lutherus: Ut vitro fragili similem se noscat uterque.' (d) Jonas.]
The breaking up of the ice, followed by heavy floods, detained him at Halle for three days. The very day after his arrival he preached again. He wrote to his wife telling her he was cheering himself with good Torgau beer and Rhine-wine, till the Saale had done raging. To his friends, however, in company he said, 'Dear friends, we are mighty good comrades, we eat and drink together; but we must all die one day. I am now going to Eisleben to help my masters, the Counts of Mansfeld, to come to terms. Now I know how the people are disposed; when Christ wished to reconcile His heavenly Father with mankind, He undertook to die for them. God grant that it may be so with me!'
On the 28th the travellers, who were joined by Jonas, crossed the dangerous rapids formed by the narrow part of the river Saale below the Castle of Giebichenstein, near the town, and thus on the same day reached Eisleben, where the Counts of Mansfeld, with several other nobles, were waiting for Luther. An escort of more than a hundred horsemen in heavy armour accompanied him from the frontier between the territories of Halle and Mansfeld. Just before entering the town, however, he was seized with alarming giddiness and faintness, together with a sharp constriction of the heart, and much difficulty of breathing. He himself ascribed this to a chill, having shortly before walked some distance and then re-entered his carriage in a perspiration. At the village of Rissdorf, near Eisleben, so he wrote to his wife on February 1, such a bitter wind pierced his cap at the back of his head, that he felt as if his brain were freezing. It was in this letter that he spoke of her laughingly as Lady Zulsdorf, &c. 'But now,' he added, 'thank God, I am pretty well again, except for the heartache caused by the beautiful women.' Only three days after this attack he preached at Eisleben.
Luther was comfortably quartered at the Drachstedt, a house which had been bought by the town-council, and was inhabited by the town-clerk Albert.
The business was commenced at once, in the very house where he was staying. But it was a work of much trouble and difficulty for Luther. He sought one way after another to effect a reconciliation. On February 6 he begged the Elector through Melancthon to send him a summons back to Wittenberg, in order to put pressure on the Counts to settle their dispute; and a few days after he wrote to his wife, saying that he should like to grease his carriage-wheels and be off in sheer anger, but concern for his native town prevented him. He was shocked at the avarice, so ruinous to the soul, which either party displayed. He was angry also with the lawyers, for backing up each party to stand so stubbornly on his imagined rights. He who now ought to have been a lawyer himself, came among them as a hobgoblin, who checked their pride by the grace of God.
The multitude of Jews whom Luther met at Eisleben and thereabouts were also an annoyance and vexation to him. He disliked to see the Counts give room so far to men who blasphemed Jesus and Mary, who called the Christians changelings, and sucked them dry, nay, would gladly kill them all, if they could. He warned even his congregation, as a child of their country, not to fall into their meshes.
Amidst all this business, he found time to preach four sermons. He partook twice of the sacrament, and confessed and ordained two clergymen.
To his wife, who worried herself constantly about him and his health, he wrote from Eisleben five times in fourteen days. His language to her, even when he has unpleasant news to tell, is always full of affection, heartiness, and comfort. The humorous way in which he addressed her we have noticed before. He told her how well he fares with eating and drinking. He referred her to her God, in Whose stead she wished to care for him, to the Bible and the small Catechism, of which she had once declared that all it contained had been said by her. He had also dangers to tell her of, which had assailed him even while thus under her care. A fire chanced to break out in a chimney near his room; and on February 9, so he writes to her, notwithstanding all her care, a stone as long as a pillow and as thick as two hands, had nearly toppled down upon his head and crushed him. So he now takes care to say, 'While you cease not to care for us, the earth at length might swallow us up, and all the elements destroy us.' [Footnote: A facsimile of the longest of these letters, bearing date February 7, appears at the end of the volume. It runs as follows: 'Mercy and peace in the Lord. Pray read, dear Katie, the Gospel of St. John and the' [marginally 'little'] 'Catechism, of which you once declared that you yourself had said all that it contained. For you wish to disquiet yourself about your God, just as if He were not Almighty, and able to create ten Martin Luthers for one old one drowned perhaps in the Saale, or fallen dead by the fireplace, or on Wolf's fowling-floor. Leave me in peace with your cares; I have a better protector than you and all the angels. He—my Protector—lies in the manger, and hangs upon a Virgin's breast. But He sits also at the right hand of God, the Father Almighty. Best, therefore—in peace. Amen.
'I think that hell and all the world must now be free of all the devils who have come together here to Eisleben, for my sake it seems. So hard and knotty is this business. There are fifty Jews here too' [marginally 'in one house'], 'as I wrote to you before. It is now said that at Rissdorff, hard by Eisleben, where I fell ill before my arrival, more than four hundred Jews were walking and riding about. Count Albert, who owns all the country round Eisleben, has seized them upon his property, and will have nothing to do with them. No one has done them any harm as yet. The widowed Countess of Mansfeld (the Countess Dorothea, widow of Count Ernest, born Countess of Solms), is thought to be the protectress of the Jews. I don't know whether it is true, but I have given my opinion in quarters where I hope it will be attended to. It is a case of Beg, Beg, Beg, and helping them. For I had it in my mind to-day to grease my carriage wheels in irâ meâ. But I felt the misery of it too much; my native home held me back. I have been made a lawyer, but they will not gain by it. They had better have let me remain a theologian. If I live and come among them, I might become a hobgoblin, who would comb down their pride by the grace of God. They behave as if they were God Himself, but must take care to shake off these notions in good time before their godhead becomes a devilhead, as happened to Lucifer, who could not remain in heaven for pride. Well, God's will be done. Let Master Philip see this letter, for I had no time to write to him; and you may comfort yourself with the thought how much I love you, as you know. And Philip will understand it all.
'We live here very well, and the town-council gives me for each meal half a pint of "Reinfall"' [marginally, 'which is very good']. 'Sometimes I drink it with my friends. The wine of the country here is also good, and Naumburg beer is very good, though I fancy its pitch fills my chest with phlegm. The devil has spoilt all the beer in the world with his pitch, and the wine with his brimstone. But here the wine is pure, such as the country gives.