It takes a very small spark to fire a train of gunpowder. When the Countess of Lüpfen ordered the peasants on her estate to spend their Sundays in picking strawberries and gathering snail shells for pincushions, she dropped such a spark! They refused, and the revolt spread, gathering in fury as it moved like a cyclone through the German states. All throughout Germany there are to be seen, to-day, ruined castles which tell the story of this "Peasants' War" (1525). Hideous atrocities were committed, and, as has so often happened, the cause of a people whose grievances were real and heartrending was so stained with crime that sympathy with and pity for their sufferings were obliterated. Even Luther—whose followers they claimed to be—said of them, "they should be treated as a man would treat a mad dog."

The bold stand taken by Luther against this rebellion strengthened him with the princes. Not only Saxony, Hesse, and Brunswick and many free cities, but the Augustine order of monks, a part of the Franciscans, and a number of priests had embraced the new doctrine contained in the "Augsburg Confession," the creed or summary of belief which was prepared by Luther's friend, Philip Melancthon.

The principles asserted in this were that men are justified by faith alone; that an assembly of believers constitutes a Church; that monastic vows, invocation of saints, fasting, celibacy, etc., are useless.

Such were the chief points in the celebrated "Confession," which was signed by the Protestant cities and princes in 1530.

So while Charles was engaged in his great game of finesse with Francis I. and Henry VIII. for preponderance in Europe—while the Turks were pressing toward Vienna on the east, and the French into Flanders on the west, and while the Pope, who should have been his ally, jealous of his power was circumventing and weakening him so far as he could, worse than all else, the foundations of the Protestant Church were being permanently laid in Germany.

The two great aims of the Emperor were to restore papal supremacy over Christendom and firmly to unite Germany and Spain. But how could he do the one, when at the hour of a great schism in the Church, a jealous Pope was trying to weaken his hands? Or the other, when Germany was always suspicious of him because he was a Spaniard, and Spain because he was a Hapsburg?

Charles was profound in his methods, crafty and powerful; but circumstances were stronger than he. In order to succeed at one point, he had to weaken himself at another. He could do nothing in repelling the Turks or the French, unless aided by the Protestant states. And these states would only give assistance in exchange for concessions to their cause, while Francis I., as crafty as he, found a sure way to circumvent his rival in giving aid to the Protestants.

The new faith was spreading not only in Germany, but in Denmark, Sweden, and England. The movement in Switzerland diverged somewhat in character under Zwingli, another Reformer, and the new Protestantism began to have its own schismatics.

Calvin in Geneva rejected Luther's doctrine of justification by faith, and for it substituted that of election. The doctrine that men were predestined to heaven or hell was thereafter held by that branch of the Church known as Reformers, as distinguished from the Lutherans, while from the protest of Saxony, Brandenburg, Brunswick, Hesse, and fifteen imperial cities against the decree outlawing Luther and his doctrines, the name Protestants took its rise, which included Lutherans and Reformers alike.

The famous Schmalkaldian League was so called from the little Hessian town where the Protestant princes assembled in 1530 and made a solemn promise of mutual support against the Emperor; when they also entered into a secret treaty with Francis I., and received promises of support from the Kings of England, Sweden, and Denmark.