Philip Melanchthon, a man in some respects more admirable than Luther, joined in the crusade of reform. “The gentle Melanchthon” had studied in Heidelberg and Tubingen. He was the author of many religious volumes, and it was he who composed the “Augsburg Confession.”
The effect of Luther’s teaching was not without its evils. Guided by their own reading of the Bible, zealots found authority for violence and persecution. There were risings of peasants, which Luther denounced, even urging their suppression with the extremity of force. This brave assailant of Rome was unwisely aggressive in his attitude towards those sects that differed from him in their beliefs. He was a bitter enemy of the followers of Zwingli, the reformer of Zurich. The sectaries were sundered and torn with dissensions and quarrels. Melanchthon died rejoicing that he was leaving a world made hideous by the hatreds of the pious disputants.
For the Jews Luther had no toleration. He detested the spirit of science, which was spreading even among the Catholics; and declared that the study of Aristotle was “useless.” He described the great Athenian as “a devil, a horrid calumniator, a wicked sycophant, a prince of darkness, a real Apollyon, a beast, a most horrid impostor on mankind, and a professed liar.” This contempt for the discoveries of science was a mark of the ignorance that led Luther to prescribe that a “possessed” child should be thrown into the water to sink or be restored to sanity.
The extortionate demands of the popes were no doubt the chief cause of that enthusiasm that burst like a flame when Luther withstood the exactions of Rome. Germany had long been bled to fill the coffers. The country was prepared for revolt. Leo X. was one of the most extravagant of the sovereign pontiffs, and it was said that he wasted as much as the revenue of three popes. He created thousands of new livings, which he sold. The office of cardinal was purchasable. But none of the wealth of the Curia found its way to Germany; on the contrary, that nation was constantly called upon to contribute heavily to the funds of the church.
In Wittenberg, the flame of revolt burst forth, and all Germany soon rallied to the support of Luther, who showed himself a born leader of men. The propaganda spread even to Spain, that ancient stronghold of Catholicism. In 1519 a number of tracts by Luther were sent into that country from Basle, where they were printed in Latin. These disquisitions fell into the hands of the learned. Valdes, secretary to Charles V., sent to Spain an account of Luther’s proclamation against indulgences, together with an acknowledgment that reform was needed in the Church.
As soon as the discovery was made that Lutheran literature was entering Spain, the inquisitors diligently sought for those who had copies of the proscribed tracts. Valdes, the emperor’s secretary, though then a staunch Catholic, was brought before the holy office because he had discoursed with Melanchthon.
It was well for Luther that he was defended by Frederick, the Elector of Saxony. We wonder that the rebellious monk, who raised such venomous hatred, escaped with his life. But even the tribunal of the Diet of Worms could not daunt Luther. He flatly refused to retract. Nothing was left but to banish him from the town; and under the protection of the Elector of Saxony, he was kept in the Wartburg.
In England the Lutheran heresy had been checked by Henry VIII., who wrote against it, and won the esteem of the Pope for his defence of the faith. Cardinal Wolsey’s efforts were of no avail in stemming the tide of reformation; and the King, enraged with the Pope for refusing a divorce from Catherine, suppressed his anti-Lutheran scruples of conscience without difficulty. The flame kindled in Wittenberg spread over England. Monasteries were suppressed; the new creed, first the religion of the poorer educated classes, was soon adopted by all classes.
The story of the Reformation is of strangely absorbing interest. In Wittenberg, the annals of the historic conflict are recalled as we stand before the church door upon which Luther nailed his ninety-five theses, and read the inscriptions on bronze that his Protestant successors have set there. Martin Luther was the man for his age, and whatever were his faults, he served humanity. Little did he anticipate the terrible wars and the fierce religious persecution that followed upon his challenge to Leo X., and the burning of the bull of excommunication outside the walls of Wittenberg.
The memorials of the vast struggle arising from the resistance of Luther to be seen in the town are first the Schloss Kirche, and then the house of the reformer in the old buildings of the University. In the house, which has been little altered since the death of Luther in 1546, are a few relics, a chair and table, some utensils, and the portraits by Kranach.