Showing posts with label catholic church. Show all posts
Showing posts with label catholic church. Show all posts

The Reformation In France During The Reign Of Henry II. (1547-1559)

The Reformation In France During The Reign Of Henry II. (1547-1559).

Henry II., who succeeded Francis I., was more distinguished for skill in bodily exercises than for strength either of intellect or character. His lack of ability, and his surroundings, made it apparent from the first that the sceptre would be held for him rather than by him. The only question was, who among the crowd of aggressive favorites should gain the most influential and controlling positions. A short time only was needed to supply an unmistakable answer. Those at all acquainted with the course of events were made aware that the elect instruments for ruling France were an avaricious harlot and an unprincipled ecclesiastic. Diana of Poitiers, who completely eclipsed the Queen (Catharine de Medici), and the Cardinal of Lorraine were foremost in influence at the unhallowed court of Henry II. 1 Menzray says, "Almost all the vices which ruin great states, and which draw down the wrath of Heaven, reigned in his court, -- luxury, unchastity, libertinism, blasphemy, and a curiosity as foolish as impious, which prompted a search into the secrets of the future by the detestable illusions of magic arts " (iii. 227). The Constable Montmorency and the Marshal Saint-André held also a conspicuous place.

The Cardinal of Lorraine represented the house of Guise. In the preceding reign, great favors had been bestowed upon this house. Claude, Duke of Guise, had been made lieutenant of the provinces of Champagne and Burgundy, and his brother John had been loaded with ecclesiastical benefices in scandalous profusion. 2 "Even an age well accustomed to the abuse of the plurality of offices was amazed to see John of Lorraine at one and the same time Archbishop of Lyons, Rheims, and Narbonne, Bishop of Metz, Toul, Verdun, Theronenne, Luçon, Alby, and Valence, and Abbot of Gorze, Fécamp, Clugny, and Marmoutier. To gratify the French monarch, Pope Leo X. added to the dignity of the young ecclesiastic by conferring upon him the cardinal's hat a year or two before he had attained his majority" (Baird, i. 267). Claude left six sons. Francis, who succeeded as Duke of Guise, was a man of bold and martial temper. Though ambitious, he was but moderately inclined to tortuous arts, and doubtless would have made a better record, had it not been for the influence of his brother Charles, who undertook the part of chief engineer in the project of aggrandizing the house of Guise. Charles, who was made Archbishop of Rheims at an early age, and bore the title of Cardinal of Lorraine after the year 1550, was no doubt a man of exceptional talents, shrewd, ready in address, affluent in expedients. As respects morals, he would not in general rank as a man of scandalous life, at least before the standard of that age. He was rather punctilious in his attention to the outward observances of religion. But of religion as the enthronement of truth and conscience he knew nothing. He abased himself to pay court to Diana of Poitiers. In one and another instance he practised the most brazen hypocrisy. According to the ample testimony of contemporaries, he was untrustworthy in his promises, slow to reward favors, quick to resent injuries. While the insinuating arts of the Cardinal were employed to advance the house of Guise, it was greatly exalted by flattering alliances. Connection with royalty was established by the marriage of Mary, the eldest daughter of Claude, with James V. of Scotland, and later by the marriage of her daughter, the famous Queen of Scots, to the heir of Henry II. It was also a gratification to the vanity of the Guise family, if without substantial benefit, that the crown of England was claimed for the Queen of Scots. On the death of Mary Tudor, the right of Elizabeth was called in question; and Mary Stuart, with her husband Francis II., openly bore the ensigns of English royalty.

The reign of Henry II. witnessed the accession to Protestantism of some distinguished names. In Anthony of the house of Bourbon, the husband of Jeanne d'Albret and titular king of Navarre, 1 Spain under the grasping Ferdinand had absorbed most of the kingdom of Navarre. and his brother Louis, Prince of Condé, it gained adherents of royal lineage. As respects Anthony, however, his espousal of Protestantism was of little moment. He proved to be a weak and wavering convert, and shamefully deserted the cause in the hour of need. Louis was a much more decided adherent. He was not indeed a faithful exponent of the temper of French Protestantism in the heroic age. The charge is not wholly groundless, that he was a Calvinist in faith rather than in morals. 2 Mezeray, iii. 234. He was capable, nevertheless, of the noblest impulses. If he was accessible to temptation in the time of prosperity, his spirit rose in adversity and danger to the height of a splendid daring and hardihood.

Another house, less in rank than the preceding, but not less in honor, made an invaluable contribution to the Reform. Rarely has it been the good fortune of a single family to supply to any cause such a combination of virtues as appeared in the three brothers, Odet, D'Andelot, and the Admiral Coligny, of the house of Châtillon. Odet was a man of exemplary life, who broke through the restraints naturally imposed by the high office of cardinal, and openly indicated his favor toward the Protestant faith. D'Andelot combined with the traits of the brave and competent soldier a good degree of moral intrepidity and steadfastness. An indication of his spirit was given when Henry II. asked him, in consideration of the honors which had been conferred upon him, and of his own welfare, to renew his allegiance to the Roman Catholic Church. D'Andelot replied that his body, his earthly dignity, and his wealth were at the disposal of the King; but that in a question of religion, it was necessary to obey God, the superior Lord, to whom alone the soul is properly subject. 1 De Thou, Hist. Sui Temporia, Llb. XX., anno 1558. D'Andelot, it is true, was afterwards induced to render a partial acquiescence to the demands of the king; but it was a compliance which was speedily repented of, and never repeated. The Admiral Coligny ranks, by common consent, as the noblest pillar of the Protestant cause in the era of the civil wars. In him the seriousness and energy of the Calvinistic faith were finely tempered by a natural breadth and magnanimity of spirit. He was unbending in principle, without being harsh or intolerant as a general, he evinced his staunchness and ability by the unconquered resolution with which he rose above defeat, and prepared for new conflicts. As a disciplinarian, he brought into the ranks of the Huguenots a sobriety, and an attention to the claims of religion, which a Cromwell or a Gustavus Adolphus might have cited as models for their armies. As a patriot, he abhorred civil conflict, and entered upon it with great reluctance, under the pressure of what he considered to be the claims of the truest loyalty. As a Christian, he followed the dictates of simple-hearted devotion, the path of honesty, of candor, and of unswerving adherence to his convictions. With the praise of Coligny should ever be associated the name of his noble wife, a woman who combined with the tenderness befitting her sex the heroic spirit of a Deborah. 1 Referring to the scene in which she urged her husband to gird on the sword in behalf of the oppressed children of God, Martin remarks, "Never did the ideal of Corneille himself surpass this reality"(Livre LII.).

While there was no excess of religious ardor in the King or his courtiers, to stimulate to persecution, they still felt the impulsion of adequate motives. Possibly, oblivious of the distinction between God and Moloch, they thought by the sacrifice of the heretic to atone in some measure for the vileness of their own lives. Certainly they were urged on by lust after the confiscated goods of the proscribed. Unimpeachable evidence makes it plain that this motive lay back of much of the inquisition after blood in the reign of Henry II. 2 Baird, I. 383, 283; Martin, xlix.

Several attempts were made, under this sovereign, to improve the already ample facilities for the detection and punishment of dissenters. In 1547 a special chamber was established in the Parliament of Paris, to try the accused. That the new tribunal was not idle, may be judged from the name which it came to bear, -- la chambre ardente. 3 Histoire Eccl., i. 87. Edicts were passed in 1549 and 1551, enlarging the prerogatives of ecclesiastical judges in cases of heresy, and limiting the privilege of appeal. In the following years, attempts were made, under the advice of the Cardinal of Lorraine, to introduce the Inquisition after the Spanish model. Inquisitors-general were finally appointed in 1557; but happily, the Parliament of Paris had enough of independence and patriotic feeling to neutralize, in a measure, the effort to set this engine of despotism into efficient activity.

Martyrdoms followed plentifully in the wake of the intolerant edicts. Near the beginning of Henry's reign, Paris was diverted with a renewal of the spectacle of 1535. The King himself was led by zeal or curiosity to take part in the scene, and attempted to question one of the victims, a poor tailor. He met, however, with a bitter reward for his pains; for such answers were given as put both him and his mistress to shame. Moreover, the martyr, as he was subjected to the fiery ordeal, gazed with such a steadfast look upon the King, that the latter for a long time was most unpleasantly haunted by his image, and resolved never again to be present at such a spectacle. Many other places imitated the example of the metropolis, and were edified beyond their expectation or desire by the bearing of the victims. A peculiarly intense impression was made by the victorious faith and joyful constancy of the "Five Scholars" from Lausanne, who were burned at Lyons in 1553.

The peace which Henry II. concluded with Philip II. of Spain in 1559 was commonly interpreted by the Protestants as an omen of attack. Nor were they at fault in this surmise. The rumor of secret articles, in which the two sovereigns pledged each other to extirpate heresy, may have been unfounded. But it is an undoubted fact, that with either sovereign, one motive for consummating peace was the desire for a more complete opportunity to destroy Protestantism, root and branch. As in Spain, so also in France, the first-fruits were soon reaped. Several members of Parliament, who had the courage to tell the King to his face that the government would be quite as well occupied in correcting the enormous abuses in the Church as in punishing loyal and upright men who died with the Saviour's name upon their lips, were cast into prison. The most distinguished of these, Anne du Bourg, was finally sent to the scaffold. His death was in effect as that of Samson, though in spirit more after the pattern of the new dispensation. The high rank of the man, his reputation for exceptional probity, and the heroic fortitude with which he met his fate, produced in many minds an extraordinary recoil against the sanguinary methods of the persecutor. 1 Florimond de Raemond, who wrote as a bitter foe of Protestantism, has left this record of the impression made by Du Bourg's death: "I remember when Anne du Bourg, counselor in the Parliament of Paris, was burned, that all Paris was astonished at the constancy of the man. As we returned to our colleges from the execution, we were melted in tears; and we pleaded his cause after his death, anathematizing those unjust judges who had justly condemned him. His sermon at the gallows end upon the funeral pile did more harm than a hundred ministers could have done " (Baird, i. 373). De Thou speaks in high terms of Du Bourg, and says that his ashes may be regarded as the soil from which sprang the ample crop of civil disturbances in the following years (Lib. XXIII.).

The King, notwithstanding the resolution which he had formed in 1549, promised himself the gratification of beholding with his own eyes the execution of Du Bourg. He also had it in mind, to make an extended tour through his kingdom to superintend in person the work of exterminating his Protestant subjects. But neither part of his plan was fulfilled. His own summons came before that of Du Bourg. In the midst of the glitter and rejoicings of a marriage fête, he was stricken down. The festival torches were suddenly turned into funeral tapers. Henry II. died on the 10th of July, 1559, from a wound received in a tournament.

Besides the testimony respecting the effect of Du Bourg's death, there are many other indications that the sensibilities of the people had not been hardened by the repeated sight of tortured victims. In the reign of Henry II., no less than in that of Francis I., martyrdom was a fruitful source of expansion to Protestantism. Again and again the triumph was with the victim rather than with the executioner. Many expired in ecstasy, insensible to the refined cruelties of the feasters upon human flesh, who invented tortures to prolong their agony. More than one judge died of consternation or remorse. Others embraced the faith of those whom they sent to the scaffold." 1 Martin, Livre L. Protestantism was beginning to include no inconsiderable fraction of the nation. In 1558 it is said to have counted no less than four hundred thousand adherents. The next year, provision was made for its consolidation and continued growth, in the work of the first national synod, which met at Paris, and adopted, along with a Presbyterian scheme of church government, the "French Confession."

Up to the end of the reign of Henry II., the record of French Protestantism was, for the most part, that of suffering patience. The political and martial elements which entered into its later history had not yet appeared. Its adherents were an elect band who lived purely, and were prepared to die heroically. A Roman Catholic historian of the time says of them, "They comported themselves as the pronounced enemies of luxury, of public festivities, and of the follies of the world, which were all too prevalent among the Catholics. In their societies and at their banquets, one found neither music nor dancing, but discourses from the Bible, which lay upon the table, and spiritual songs, especially the Psalms as soon as they were brought into rhyme. The women, with their modest apparel and bearing, seemed like sorrowing Eves or penitent Magdalens, repeating in their lives the description which Tertullian gave of the women of his age. The men appeared dead to the world, and filled with the Holy Spirit. Each was a John the Baptist preaching in the wilderness. The outward demeanor expressed only humility and obedience. They sought to gain a place for themselves, not by cruelty but by patience, not by killing but by dying, so that in them Christianity in its primitive innocence seemed to be restored." 1 Florimond de Raemond; quoted by Soldan, Geschichte des Protestantismus in Frankreich, I. 206. We may add here, in connection with the reference to the Psalms, that the versions of Marot and Beza were at once efficient means of religious inspiration in adherents, and incitements to the attention of outsiders. We have accounts of large crowds upon certain public grounds at Paris being diverted from other forms of recreation, and gathering about those who sang in French verse the noble lyrics of the Psalter. So apparent was the effect, that the government was called upon to put a stop to the singing (De Thou, Lib. XX., anno 1558; Histoire Ecclésiastique, i 167).

The German Reformation From The Death Of Luther To The Death Of Melanchthon (1546-1560).

The German Reformation From The Death Of Luther To The Death Of Melanchthon (1546-1560).

The use of peaceful measures toward the Protestants did not result altogether according to the wishes of Charles V. He found the heretics less yielding than he had hoped. As they refused submission to the Council of Trent, and also absented themselves from the Diet of Regensburg, which was designed to work toward submission to the council, Charles was determined to delay no longer the resort to force. To divide his opponents, he put the imperial ban upon only two of the princes, -- John Frederic, the Elector of Saxony, and Philip of Hesse. To the Protestants he tried to make it appear that it was by no means a religious war which he was conducting; while, at the same time, he leagued with the Pope for the complete overthrow of Protestantism. The action of the Pope, however, so clearly revealed the plot, that no excuse remained for being deceived.

In the ensuing war, inefficient leadership and divided counsels robbed the Protestants of the success which they might have expected. Moreover, one of their number, Maurice, the young Duke of Saxony, joined with the Emperor. His defection was more political than religious. He was full of ambition, and wished to make use of the Emperor to enlarge his domain. Under these circumstances, Charles gained a complete victory. The Elector of Saxony and Philip of Hesse were made prisoners. The electoral dignity, together with a large part of the territory which it represented, was given to Maurice. The Smalcald League was destroyed.

As by this time the Pope and Charles had ceased to act together, -the former, indeed, seeking to thwart the plans of the latter, -- Charles assumed, on his own account, to make a settlement of religious matters. Entertaining a somewhat superficial view of the nature of Protestant convictions, he thought that by a few concessions, and by the abolition of certain abuses, he could bring the whole Protestant population under the dominion of the Romish Church. He employed, therefore, some theologians to prepare it scheme corresponding to this view. A provisional grant of marriage to priests, and of the cup to the laity, and formulas on the subject of justification and the mass, which toned down somewhat the Romish theories, were the most that was conceded to the Protestants. This scheme received the sanction of the Diet of Augsburg, in 1548, and was called the Augsburg Interim. The people and the ministry on the side of the Protestants were strongly averse to the Interim. Force, however, availed to carry it through in Southern Germany. In Northern Germany a stout resistance was offered. Duke Maurice, notwithstanding his alliance with the Emperor, would not undertake to impose it upon his own domains, except in a modified form. The city of Magdeburg was especially determined in its opposition. Not a few of the Roman-Catholic party also disliked the Interim as a half-measure, and destitute of proper authority. Moreover, the bold and aggressive manner in which Charles used his victories for the exaltation of imperial prerogatives was a source of jealousy.

The Emperor, therefore, was not as strong and secure as he imagined; and it only needed a bold stroke to reveal the fact. Meanwhile, Maurice, who had been intrusted with the reduction of Magdeburg, was preparing to give that stroke. While it was desirable to appease the hatred of the Protestants which had been aroused against him by his treacherous conduct, he found a ground of quarrel with the Emperor, in that he refused to release his father-in-law, Philip of Hesse, from rigorous imprisonment. He began also to apprehend that the dignity of the German princes generally would be endangered by the continued success of Charles. Accordingly, he protracted the siege of Magdeburg until his plans were well matured for a change of sides. Then, marching suddenly upon the Emperor, he took him by surprise, and left him in such an unfavorable plight, that he assented to terms of peace, stipulating in the treaty of Passau (1552) for the liberation of the captive princes, and indulgence for the time being to the Protestant religion. The movements of the Turks and the attitude of France prevented Charles from recovering the lost ground; and at the Diet of Augsburg, in 1555, peace was finally concluded in earnest. The fundamental articles of the treaty were, that the rulers were to be allowed to exercise free choice between the Roman Catholic religion and the Lutheran, as expressed in the Augsburg Confession, while the subjects were to be dependent upon the will of the rulers as to their religion. Should the subjects be oppressed in conscience by the prince, they were to be allowed unhindered egress from the realm. The Protestants were to retain the church property which was in their possession at the peace of Passau. From the privileges of Protestantism, however, one important item was withheld. While civil princes might change their religion freely and without any material loss, ecclesiastical dignitaries, should they go over to Protestantism, were to lose all the temporalities formerly pertaining to their positions. This article (Reservatum ecclesiasticum) was stoutly opposed by the Protestants; but Ferdinand, the brother of Charles V., who presided over the Diet, showed himself unyielding. The Protestants at length gave a reluctant consent; obtaining, in return, simply the imperial declaration that the subjects of ecclesiastical princes should be allowed religious liberty.

In the treaty of Augsburg, Protestantism at least so far as the Lutherans or adherents of the Augsburg Confession were concerned, obtained legal recognition. During the next few years it spread rapidly, and gained a good foothold even in Bavaria and Austria. But the meridian was soon reached. A Roman Catholic reaction, urged on both by secular and religious powers, set in; and Protestantism lost much territory which at one time it held wholly or in part.

Before passing from the field of the German Reformation, it is fitting to add a few words respecting the distinguished co-laborer of Luther, Melanchthon. If the work of the latter stands out in less august proportions than that of the former, it was still important and of far-reaching consequence.

In their personal relations Melanchthon was no doubt much more influenced by Luther than was Luther by Melanchthon. The evangelical zeal of the older Reformer kindled that of the younger. Without the powerful impulse which was received from Luther, Melanchthon, very likely, would have been only a more serious Erasmus. But, while he was not able to modify Luther as much as he was modified by him, he wrought work as a scholar and theologian the influence of which has been parallel with that of Luther, and has re-acted upon it in no inconsiderable measure.

Melanchthon may be said to have figured conspicuously in three different characters; namely, as humanist, theologian, and reconciler, or agent of attempted mediation, between different parties. The last was naturally the least fruitful of honor; for the office of mediator, in the theological domain, is commonly as thankless as it is difficult. Melanchthon, with his moderation and conciliatory temper, had, indeed, far more than average qualifications for the office. This was understood by his contemporaries, and may help to explain the fact that he was so often summoned to take part in negotiations looking to a re-union of the divided Church. But his aptitudes secured him no success; as, under the conditions, success was impossible, at least as respects healing the schism between Protestants and Romanists. In dealing with a hierarchy boastful of its infallibility, to make an agreement is simply to sacrifice the truth. Melanchthon, in one and another instance, was supposed to have made this sacrifice, and was brought under severe criticism. Doubtless his concessions were not always kept within due limits; but in part, at least, they sprang from conviction, as well as from the desire for peace. Such was the origin of the tolerance which he expressed for a hierarchical constitution. He felt that the Church needed a strong government of its own, and without this means of self-direction would fall into a pernicious dependence upon the State.

Melanchthon had both the natural tastes and the training of the humanist. Before he took the professor's chair at Wittenberg, at the age of twenty-one, he had already won some distinction by his proficiency in the classic literature, and his purity of style. Erasmus early awarded him this flattering estimate: "Of Melanchthon I have already the highest opinion, and cherish the most magnificent hopes; so much so that I am persuaded Christ designs this youth to excel us all: he will totally eclipse Erasmus." 1 Quoted by F. A. Cox, Life of Melanchthon. Through endowments and acquisitions of this order, Melanchthon was able to give to Protestant piety a valuable association with classic culture. As Vilmar remarks, he drew the plan for schools within the evangelical Church, which have continued for more than two centuries to be seats of a profound study of the Greek and the Roman literature, and thus earned for himself the title Prœceptor Germaniœ. 2 A.F.C. Vilmar, sketches of Luther, Melanchthon, and Zwingli.

As a theologian, Melanchthon had the distinction of writing the first work of systematic theology which appeared on the side of the Reformation, his "Loci Communes Rerum Theologicarum." This was published in 1521, when the author was but twenty-four years of age. Luther was greatly delighted with it, and declared that no book could be found in which the sum of religion was more finely compacted together. Enlarged and modified in later editions, the "Loci" remained the most important memorial of the theological activity of Melanchthon. At the time of the first draught his views were in substantial accord with those of Luther. Later his thinking diverged in three main particulars. Rejecting strict Augustinianism with its predestination and monergism, he gave a place to free will, and taught a moderate synergism. He inclined to Calvin's theory of the efficacious presence of Christ in the eucharist, as opposed to Luther's assertion of the real bodily presence. He was averse to the mystical phase in Christology which Luther, in conformity with his eucharistic theory, had inculcated, -- the doctrine of the communication of divine predicates to the human nature of Christ. That Luther viewed this deviation with grief and annoyance, is not to be questioned; but it is equally certain that the doctrinal differences between the two men did not really sever the bond of rare affection by which they had been united.

The German Reformation From The Diet Of Augsburg To The Death Of Luther (1530-1546)

The German Reformation From The Diet Of Augsburg To The Death Of Luther (1530-1546)

Charles V. did not find the means of effecting the religious subjugation of the Protestants which he had threatened at the close of the Diet of Augsburg. The precarious nature of his relations with France, and the invasions of the Turks, who at this time, under their ambitious leader Soliman II., boldly aspired to the conquest of Europe, compelled Charles to a show of indulgence toward the heretics. Moreover,the Protestant states evinced a disposition to resist, if need be, by force of arms. In the closing days of the year 1530 they laid the foundation of the so-called Smalcald League, and the next year confirmed it by definitely pledging mutual defence in the enjoyment of their faith. Hence Charles assented to the peace of Nuremberg in 1532, which provided that religious affairs should remain unchanged till they could be settled lay a diet or council. The Emperor, as heretofore, was anxious for a general council, and in 1533 he persuaded the Pope to make a move in that direction. However, such a council as the Pope planned involved, in the view of the Protestants, their condemnation beforehand, and they declined participation. The council which finally was convened, that of Trent in 1545, was no joint assembly for the settlement of doctrinal disputes, such as Charles had designed, but a thoroughly Romish affair.

For the fifteen or sixteen years following the Diet of Augsburg, the relation of Charles V, to the Protestants of Germany was that of political manœuvring; the Emperor being held back, by the difficulties of his position, from any decisive steps toward repression. The Reformation cause, during this time, was continually adding to its allies. By 1540, it counted nearly the whole of Northern Germany on its side.

Some noteworthy stumbling-blocks, however, were thrown in the way of this general progress. Such was the Anabaptist fanaticism which raged in Münster. The Reformation had made considerable progress in Münster by the year 1533, under the leadership of the preacher Bernhard Rottmann; and the bishop had found it necessary to grant tolerance to the growing party of its adherents. There was a fair prospect that the whole city would be won to the Protestant cause. But at this juncture the Anabaptist distemper made its appearance. Rottmann himself caught the infection, and the city became a chosen resort for the extremists of the Anabaptist sect. Such in particular were John Mathys from Harlem and John Bockelson from Leyden, who played the rô1e of prophets or theocratic leaders. Adherents being rapidly won, the violent sectaries usurped the government, and in 1534 banished from the city all who were counted unbelievers. One excess led to another. Works of art perished before an indiscriminate iconoclasm. The principles of the wildest communism were adopted. Polygamy was declared lawful. John of Leyden, who finally added the dignity of king to that of prophet, took sixteen wives. Every thing was managed in the name of pretended revelations from heaven. A reign of terror prevailed, and it was instant death to disagree with the fanatical chief, or his principal agent, the sword-bearer Knipperdolling. But this mad revel was soon brought to an end. In 1535 the bishop and his allies, among whom were numbered some of the Protestant states, succeeded in overpowering the fanatics. A re-action to Romanism naturally followed; Protestantism was utterly ruined in Münster.

1 Ranke III. 356-405; Hase, Neue Propheten.

Another stumbling-block was the bigamy of Philip of Hesse. He was united with a wife whom political considerations rather than personal preference had brought to him. The dissatisfaction not unnaturally springing from lack of affinity was aggravated by bodily disorders and an unhappy propensity of his spouse. Philip, consequently, as a man of vigorous sensual physique, had experienced special temptation. Taking up with the lax code shamefully common in those days among princes, he had been guilty of great matrimonial infidelity. He was not a man of so little conscience as not to be seriously troubled over his misdemeanors, and for a long time had counted himself unworthy to receive the communion. Still, he had not the moral strength or resolution to stop his indulgence. In this strait he resorted to an expedient which, without increasing the sin of his conduct, increased the scandal of it beyond measure. As a way of satisfying at once his appetite and his conscience, he made choice of bigamy. Thinking it unjust to divorce his wife, who had borne him a large family of children, he concluded that, inasmuch as he could find no Divine ordinance on record against a plurality of wives, the best course would be to take a second wife, with the consent of the first. To obtain a fitting sanction for his project, he sent Bucer (who, with all his amiable traits, possessed an excessive aptitude for diplomacy and compromise) to confer with Luther and Melanchthon. These theologians were greatly disturbed by the proposition. Nevertheless, in consideration of the representations which were made to them, they were induced to give a kind of half consent. In their reply they stated that the sentence spoken at the creation, as also the words of Christ, plainly indicate that the proper idea of marriage is the union of one man and one woman. This must remain the law. They added, however, that there might be dispensations from this law in cases of extraordinary and pressing need. That Philip's was a case of this kind, they did not undertake positively to affirm, but contented themselves with the direction, that, if the Landgrave were resolved to contract a second marriage, it must be a secret one. I Epist. mdcccciv., mdccccv.

Why the stipulation of secrecy? Because, as Luther explains elsewhere, the case was not to be made a precedent; and, moreover, an open marriage would imply a dispensation from the law of the realm which they had no power to give. They were acting simply as confessors, or spiritual advisers, and as such allowed that it might be safer for his soul, and less objectionable in the sight of God, for Philip to take an additional wife than to continue in adulterous license. 2 Epist. mmdxvi., mmdxli.

That Luther and Melanchthon made the concession that they did, was undoubtedly an enormous mistake. That they were guilty of moral obliquity, is not so clear. Certainly they cannot be charged with inventing a theory to meet a case. Earlier expressions of theirs indicate a belief that under certain extraordinary conditions a dispensation from the law of monogamy might legitimately be granted. 3 Epist. dlxxii., mccccx. See also J. C. Hare, Vindication of Luther. Melanchthon, as Hare testifies, had taken the same ground which appears in Luther's epistles. Nor would it seem that they were altogether alone in this. There is evidence that some contemporary Romanists conceived that a dispensation for a plural marriage was not strictly out of question. 4 Köstlin, II. 485, 676; D' Aubigné, Book XX., chap. v. One may surmise, indeed, that the Wittenberg divines were moved by a spirit of unworthy compliance in dealing with the proposition of the Landgrave, and were not perfectly settled in the conviction that there was such an exigency with him as constituted adequate ground for a dispensation, This is possible, but it is not proved. All that can be said is, that Melanchthon was undoubtedly a man of more than average conscientiousness, and that few men have lived who were less inclined than Luther to take counsel with mere expediency where any principle was concerned.

The bigamous marriage took place in 1540, and the scandal was not long in following. Deplorable as was the affair, it was not without some compensations. Luther and his associates were sufficiently instructed by this one experience, and thereafter were more than content to allow the law of monogamy to stand in unqualified force. If a second compensation were to be noted, it might be found in the revelation that was called forth of Luther's staunchness and strength, in the hardihood with which he bore the opprobrium, and in the might with which he lifted up Melanchthon from the very gates of death.

Before this interval of negotiation and political finesse had merged into the stern ordeal of battle, Luther passed away (Feb. 18, 1546). His departure, so far as his personal fortunes were concerned, was in peace and unshaken faith. Among his last words was the thrice-repeated sentence: "Father, into thy hands I commend my spirit. Thou hast redeemed me, Thou faithful God." So ended a stormy life; so passed away one of the great men of history. He had indeed his faults and weaknesses, too prominent to be concealed. His nature was too vehement for evenness and consistency. Some of his eminent virtues bordered close upon vices. His zeal for the faith ran, at times, into unseemly passion; his steadfastness to his conviction, into apparent willfulness and stubbornness; his hatred of shams, into disdain and abuse. But with all these detracting features, Luther exhibited that which must ever command admiration. We see in him a marked individuality, an heroic temper, a consummate genius, a deeply religious spirit, a peculiarly faithful embodiment of strong national traits. As David was the man of Israel, so Luther was the man of Germany. As David embodied the chivalry, the patriotism, the lyric talent, the domestic affection, and the religious ardor of Israel, so Luther embodied the leading features of the German mind and heart. His words thrilled the men of his time, and to-day are in large part fresh and living. To soberness and mirth he alike paid tribute. Few have shown so fully the gift of easy transition from seriousness to pleasantry. A many-sided, rich, and powerful nature was that of Luther. Says one who has never accepted Protestantism: "It was Luther's overpowering greatness of mind, and marvelous many-sidedness, which made him to be the man of his time and of his people; and it is correct to say that there never has been a German who has so intuitively understood his people, and in turn has been by the nation so perfectly comprehended, I might say absorbed by it, as this Augustinian monk at Wittenberg. Heart and mind of the Germans were in his hand like the lyre in the hand of the musician. Moreover, he has given to his people more than any other man in Christian ages has ever given to a people, language, manual for popular instruction, Bible, hymns of worship; and every thing which his opponents in their turn had to offer or to place in comparison with these, showed itself tame and powerless and colorless by the side of his sweeping eloquence. They stammered: he spoke with the tongue of an orator; it is he only who has stamped the imperishable seal of his own soul alike upon the German language and upon the German mind; and even those Germans who abhorred him as the powerful heretic and seducer of the nation cannot escape; they must discourse with his words, they must think with his thoughts." 1 Döllinger; quoted by G. P. Fisher, History of the Reformation.

Luther From The Opening Of The Leipzig Disputation To The Close Of The Diet Of Worms

Luther From The Opening Of The Leipzig Disputation To The Close Of The Diet Of Worms

This was the crisis epoch in the life of Luther. Within the brief interval of less than two years, he traveled out of sight of Roman sovereignty, and started no small part of Europe on the road to like emancipation. Another life, showing greater fruitfulness in word and deed in the same space of time, cannot easily be found since the foundation era of Christianity.

The truce entered into with Miltitz was understood to be a temporary expedient. It imposed obligation only while the case of Luther was waiting decision from the stipulated tribunal. In fact, it was ended before any hearing had been arranged. The adversaries of Luther were not disposed to keep quiet. Doctor Eck, supremely confident of his controversial superiority, would rest short of nothing but a contest with the chief agitator. He published, therefore, a set of theses, ostensibly in preparation for a disputation with Carlstadt, but really directed against the principal doctrines of Luther. This was regarded by Luther as a challenge which needed to be answered. The result was the disputation held at Leipzig, June 27-July 16, 1519, under the auspices of Duke George of Saxony.

The disputation opened between Carlstadt and Eck on free will, and was continued between Luther and Eck on the primacy of the Pope, purgatory, penance, and indulgences. The principal significance and interest centered in the discussion of the primacy. Luther contended that the Pope's primacy is simply de jure humano, or based on the consent of Christians, and cannot claim any divine right. He argued, as Wycliffe had done before, that the need of a head over the Church does not imply any divinely appointed ecclesiastical monarch, since the monarchical ideal is adequately realized in the fact that Christ is the perpetual Head of the Church. He referred to the council of Nicæa and to North African synods as plainly implying by their decisions that they recognized no universal headship in the Roman bishop. Cyprian's representation respecting sacerdotal unity proceeding from Rome, he contended, could apply only to the West; and as the Roman Church owed its origin to that in Jerusalem, the mother of all churches, the figure of Cyprian, if it proves ally thing about headship, would direct to the conclusion that the supremacy over all churches belongs to Jerusalem. Certain passages of Jerome were also quoted as clearly indicating that the papal monarchy was no part of the primitive constitution of the Church. The Eastern Christians, Luther claimed, had repudiated such monarchy for fourteen hundred years. If, then, it is of divine right, they must be counted heretics and outside the pale of salvation,--a most abhorrent conclusion. "I hold it to be certain," said Luther, "that neither the Roman pontiff nor all of his flatterers are able to cast out of heaven so great a number of saints, who have never been subject to his authority.... If they are heretics because they did not recognize the Roman pontiff, I will accuse my opponent of being a heretic, who dares to assert that so many saints held in honor throughout the universal Church are damned."

But while Luther gave place to historical considerations, he laid the main stress upon the evidence of the Scriptures. Augustine and all the fathers put together, he declared, could not bind his judgment counter to the teaching of God's Word. He complained of Eck, that he merely skimmed over the surface of Scripture, or rather fled from it as the devil flees from the cross. In the Acts of the Apostles, he said, we have the clearest proof that Peter had no authority over the other apostles; while the exegesis which affects to find in Matt. xvi. 18, John xxi. 15-17, or Luke xxii. 32, a foundation for the papal supremacy, is far-fetched and counter to the tenor of the New Testament.

The most important result of the disputation was the incentive which it gave Luther to cut loose from the whole system of pretentious infallibility. He had, indeed, previously reached the conclusion, -- as appears from his reply to Prierias,--that it was possible for a council to err. But as yet he had not ventured to take exception to any specific decision of a general council. This was first brought about at the Leipzig disputation, under pressure of Eck's assertion, that, in denying the divine right of the Pope, Luther was making himself a patron of the Hussite heresy, and was contending for a proposition which the council of Constance had expressly condemned. At first Luther took umbrage at being associated with Huss; his mind not yet being fully disabused of the prejudice against the Bohemian martyr, which a century of industrious vilification had ingrained into the minds of the Germans generally. But on reflection he declared, of his own accord, that several of the sentences of Huss, condemned by the council of Constance, were most Christian and evangelical. This naturally produced no small stir among the auditors. Eck, in a letter to Hochstraten, says that many who had been favorable to Luther were terrified by this daring error, and ceased to give him countenance. To have brought his opponent to this confession, was, no doubt, a formal victory for Eck, for it enabled him to brand him in the eyes of Roman Catholics generally as a manifest heretic. But what was a formal victory for Eck was a real advantage to Luther and his cause. By assisting him to a clearer apprehension of truth, it only increased the momentum with which he was preparing to assail the ramparts of papal and hierarchical sovereignty. Luther gives an account of the disputation in Epist. cxlvii., cxlix., cli.

Shortly after the Leipzig disputation, Luther took occasion to reiterate, in more emphatic terms, the position which he had there taken. In the early part of 1520, a perusal of Valla's treatise on the fictitious donation of Constantine intensified his conviction that the papal dominion was built upon falsehood. 2 Epist. cciv. Near the same time he confessed that a better acquaintance with the writings of Huss had assured him that he himself, as well as Paul and Augustine, were genuine Hussites, and had brought home to him the terrible fact that along with Huss evangelical truth had been condemned and burned. 3 Epist. ccviii.

In the latter half of the year 1520 three writings of special importance came from the pen of Luther. The first of these was his "Address to his Imperial Majesty and the Nobles of the German Nation." It was a powerful oration; a trumpet-call to the German people to lay hold upon the work of reforming the Church. In this arduous task, said Luther, wherein the contest must be waged not with men but with the magnates of hell, no carnal weapons will avail. The labor must be undertaken in humble reliance upon God, and with minds intent upon the good of a suffering Christendom rather than upon requiting evil men for their misdeeds. In essaying the reform, three walls must be broken through, which hitherto have been interposed against all efforts to heal corruptions and abuses. The first wall is the assumption that the laity are only a passive element in the Church; that the management of spiritual affairs belongs to the clergy, who constitute the spiritual order, having been sealed with an indelible character, and being endowed with special prerogatives and immunities which place them in wide contrast with other men. The way to break down the wall is to discard these fables. The truth is, all Christians belong to the spiritual order. All are introduced by baptism to the priestly rank. Necessary order, indeed, forbids that all should discharge ministerial functions. But the distinction between priest and layman is only official; the priest is but the representative of the body of believers. To induct one into the priestly office, nothing beyond the will of the congregation is absolutely necessary. A company of laymen, accidentally isolated from all fellow-Christians, would be entirely competent to empower one of their number to administer the sacraments, and to perform every priestly function. As the official is the only distinction, when that is canceled no dividing line remains. A deposed priest is only a peasant or citizen. Away, then, with this wall of separation! Away with the fiction, worthy of the chief devil himself, that a Pope must be left to pursue his own course unchallenged though he leads souls to perdition by the wholesale ! The second wall is the claim that it is the sole prerogative of the Pope to interpret Scripture. This, too, must be brought down by resolute repudiation of unfounded assumption. The claim is contradicted by the common priesthood of believers, by Paul's teaching respecting the free distribution of spiritual gifts, and by the facts of history which convict the popes of having many times fallen into error. To found the infallibility of the Pope on Christ's prayer for Peter, that his faith might not fail, is in no wise allowable; since not a few of the popes have been sadly destitute of faith, and, moreover, Christ prayed for all Christians as well as for Peter. A breach having been made through the first two walls, little trouble will be found with the third, which is built up by the pretence that the Pope alone can call a council. As this is without warrant in Scripture, and is contradicted by the early history of the Church, Christians have no need to sit with folded hands, in the presence of deadly evil, awaiting the motion of the Roman pontiff. Nor should they pause in their reformatory efforts through awe of the papal thunders, but despise them as the utterances of a frantic mortal.

The remainder of the address was largely occupied with a detailed list of the reforms which should be undertaken by the proposed council. Altogether it was an appeal supremely adapted to the national sentiments, and fitted to stir to their depths the hearts of the more liberal and thoughtful among the German people. As has been well said, "All the Teuton rage against Rome, pent up for centuries, is here set free." 1 Peter Bayne, Life and Work of Martin Luther. It is needless to add that a rapid circulation was given to the address, four thousand copies having been sent out in the space of a few weeks. 2 Luther, Epist. ccl.

A second writing, entitled the "Babylonish Captivity of the Church," followed the above after an interval of about two months. It is a critique of the Romish doctrine of the sacraments as it had been elaborated in the scholastic theology. In place of the traditional list of seven sacraments, Luther finds warrant for only three, the eucharist, baptism, and penance. In connection with the first, he denounces energetically the robbery practised against the laity in the withholding of the cup; declares transubstantiation a mere speculative subtlety, which no one is bound to accept and which may rationally and scripturally be rejected; denies that the mass is to be accounted either a meritorious work or a sacrifice to God, and claims that the essential verity in it is a promise of grace to be grasped by faith. Respecting baptism, he emphasizes the idea that its virtue, which is conditioned upon faith, is not spent by the first act of sin, so that one must look to another rite which may serve as a plank for the shipwrecked. Rather, the grace offered in baptism stands continually available to him who returns to it in penitence and faith. As regards confession and absolution, Luther allows that they may subserve a good purpose. He denies, however, that absolution is an exclusive prerogative of the priest, and complains, that, in practice, confession is made a means of tyranny, while the satisfactions imposed have been aggravated into an ungodly and homicidal regime. The tone of the work is one of great boldness, rising at times into a ringing defiance. One or two extracts will illustrate: "Since the bishop of Rome has ceased to be a bishop, and has become a tyrant, I fear absolutely none of his decrees, since I know that neither he nor even a general council has power to establish new articles of faith." "I for my part will set free my own mind, and deliver my conscience, by declaring aloud to the Pope and to all papists, that unless they shall throw aside ah their laws and traditions, and restore liberty to the churches of Christ, and cause that liberty to be taught, they are guilty of the death of all the souls which are perishing in this wretched bondage, and that the papacy is in truth nothing else than the kingdom of Babylon and of very Antichrist."

The third writing was a brief treatise on "Christian Liberty." It sustains the double thesis: "A Christian man is the most free lord of all, and subject to none; a Christian man is the most dutiful servant of all, and subject to all." The discussion which is appended is largely occupied with the office of faith, which is declared to be the medium of liberty, as it is the medium of justification. Faith grasps the vivific word of Christ, joins the soul to Christ as the bride to the bridegroom, and so brings into it a principle of life which can never be attained on the basis of works. This, however, involves no rejection or disparagement of works. He whose soul has been purified through faith and filled with the love of God will desire that all his members should be purified and made subservient to the love and glory of God. Thus, works must follow in the train of faith. "These works, nevertheless, are not that which justifies the individual in the sight of God; but he performs them freely from love towards God's service, looking to no other end than the Divine pleasure." That this writing should have been addressed to Pope Leo, would be a strange fact, were not the explanation at hand, that this was no result of Luther's inclination, but simply the fulfillment of a promise which he had given to Miltitz.

Before Luther had given his "Babylonish Captivity" to the public, mutterings from Rome had reached his ear. Indeed, it was known that the industrious malice of Eck had at last been rewarded, and that he had brought back to Germany a papal fulmination against Luther. After being published in several other places, a copy of the bull at length reached Wittenberg (Oct. 3). It condemned forty-one propositions of Luther, adjudged to the flames all writings of his containing these propositions, and declared him exposed to all the penalties due to an obstinate heretic unless he should recant within sixty days.

The following were among the condemned propositions:--
1. Hæretica sententia est, sed usitata: Sacramenta novæ legis justificantem gratiam illis dare, qui non ponunt obicem.

5. Tres esse partes pœnitentiæ, contritionem, confeseionem, et satisfactionem, non set fundatum in Scriptura, nec in antiquis sanctis Christianis Doctoribus.

7. Verissimum eat proverbium, et omnium doctrina de contritionibus hucusque data præstantius: de cetero non facere, summa pœsnitentia, optima pœnitentia nova vita.

8. Nullo modo præsumas confiteri peccata venalia, sed nec omnia mortalia, quia impossibile est, ut omnia mortalia cognoscas. Unde in primitiva ecclesia solum manifesta mortalia confitebantur.

33. Hæreticos comburi est contra voluntatem Spiritus. (To burn heretics is against the will of the Holy Spirit.)

In relation to this last proposition, three things should be noticed: (1) The proposition could not have been condemned as being merely ill-sounding for a more plain and moderate denial of the propriety of burning heretics cannot be imagined. It must have been condemned as false and heretical. (2) The bull of Leo X. being formally issued in condemnation of errors, and solemnly binding every Roman Catholic to reject and to contend against those errors, must be regarded as an ex cathedra document. (3) Therefore, in virtue of the dogma of papal infallibility, every Roman Catholic is bound to believe in the propriety of burning heretics.


Luther's teaching on this subject makes an interesting contrast. Commenting on Leo's condemnation of the thirty-third proposition, he says: "Christ delivered no weapons into the hands of the apostles, nor did He impose any other punishment than that one who refuses to bear the Church should be regarded as a heathen. And the apostle (Tit. iii.) teaches respecting an heretical man, that he is to be avoided, not that he should be slain with sword and fire. When the disciples (Luke ix.) wished to call down fire from heaven, and to destroy a city, Christ restrained them, saying, 'Ye know not what spirit ye are of; for the Son of man came not to destroy men's lives, but to save.' This is what I have said and do say, on the authority of Christ, namely, that those who assail men with fire are not men of good spirit. Of what spirit, then, are they7 Of the evil spirit, who from the beginning was a murderer. Christ has not willed that men should be brought to faith by force and fire. Wherefore he gave the sword of the Spirit, that with this they who are the sons of the Spirit might enter the contest." (Assertio Omn. Artic. per Bullam Leo X, damnat.)

As the correspondence of Luther shows, 1 Epist. cclviii., cclix. it was with little trepidation that he awaited the stroke from Rome. When it came, his response was a defiance, such was the character of the appeal which he made to a general council. The very fact of the appeal was itself an open defiance, in as much as the bull of Leo had declared, on the basis of constitutions promulgated by Pius II, and Julius II., that those who appeal from pope to council expose themselves to the penalties of heresy. Still more in its tone and content was the appeal a defiance. "I appeal," said Luther, "from the Pope, first, as an unjust, rash, and tyrannical judge, who condemns me without a hearing, and without giving any reasons for his judgment; secondly, as a heretic and an apostate, misled, hardened, and condemned by the Holy Scriptures, who commands me to deny that Catholic faith is necessary in the use of the sacraments; thirdly, as an enemy, an adversary, an antichrist, and an oppressor of Holy Scripture, who dares to set his own words in opposition to the Word of God; fourthly, as a blasphemer, a proud contemner of the holy Church, and of a legitimate council, who maintains that a council is nothing of itself."

Next, adding boldness of action to boldness of speech, Luther publicly burned the papal bull, together with copies of the papal decrees and some other writings,in Wittenberg. This seal upon an everlasting divorce from the papacy was given Dec. 10, 1520.

A few months later, a demand for still greater courage than that exhibited in the burning of the bull was placed upon Luther. In January, 1521, the Diet of the German Empire, presided over by Charles V., assembled at Worms. The case of Luther was one of the principal matters for settlement. At length it was concluded to summon the Reformer himself to answer before the august tribunal. A safe-conduct accompanied the summons. Some of Luther's friends sought to dissuade him from the journey, and pointed to the fate of Huss, who was burned at Constance in violation of the safe-conduct which the Emperor Sigismund had given. But Luther's determination was unalterably taken. Several months before he received the summons, he had written to Spalatin, the chaplain of the Elector Frederic, "If I shall be called, I will respond as far as in me lies, and will be carried there sick if I cannot go in health. Nor, if the Emperor calls me, am I permitted to doubt that I am called by God. If they shall use violence, --and it is very probable that they will,--the cause must be commended to the Lord. He still lives and reigns who preserved the three young men in the furnace of the Babylonish king. If He wills not to save me, my life is of small consequence. The question of hazard or safety is not to be entertained; let us rather take heed lest we leave the gospel which we have embraced to be the sport of the wicked, and give our adversaries occasion boastfully to insiluate against us that we dare not confess what we have taught, and fear to shed our blood in its behalf. It is not for me to decide whether my life or my death will best serve the gospel and the public weal." 1 Epist. cclxxvii. After receiving the summons he wrote, "Let God's will be done. I will commit my spirit to Christ, that while living I may contemn these ministers of Satan, and dying may overcome them.....They are laboring at Worms to bring me to a recantation of many articles. But this shall be my recantation: I said formerly that the Pope is the vicar of Christ. This I recall, and now say the Pope is the adversary of Christ, and the apostle of the devil." 2 Epist, cccv. Encountering on his journey the prediction that he was going to the fate of Huss, Luther responded, "Though they should kindle a fire all the way from Wittenberg to Worms, the flames of which should reach to heaven, I would still appear before them in the name of the Lord, I would enter the jaws of this behemoth, confessing the Lord Jesus Christ." As he approached Worms, a messenger of Spalatin met him with the advice that he should not enter the city. The answer was the memorable saying: "Even though there should be as many devils in Worms as tiles on the housetops, still mould I enter it."

Before the Diet, into whose presence Luther was ushered the 17th of April, 1521, he showed that his strong utterances had not been empty braggadocio. Copies of the various books which he had published were spread before him in the hall of the Diet, and he was asked two questions with reference to them: whether he would acknowledge them as his own, and whether he would recant their contents. Luther responded to the first question in the affirmative, and with respect to the second asked, in consideration of the gravity of the subject, a little time for consideration. He was granted until the next day to prepare his reply. He then responded that in some of his writings he may have used an unseemly acrimony of language, but as to the essential contents of his works he could not recant unless he were proved to be in the wrong. "I am," he pleaded, "but a mere man, and not God; I shall therefore defend myself as Christ did, who said, 'If I have spoken evil, bear witness of the evil.' How much more should I, who am but dust and ashes, and who may so easily go astray, desire every man to state his objections to my doctrine! For this reason, by the mercy of God I conjure you, most serene Emperor, and you, most illustrious electors and princes, and all men of every degree, to prove from the writings of the prophets and apostles that I have erred. As soon as I am convinced of this, I will retract every error, and will be the first to lay hold of my books, and throw them into the fire." Being pressed again for a specific answer to the demand to retract, Luther gave this unequivocal reply: "I cannot submit my faith either to the Pope or to the councils, because it is clear as the day that they have frequently erred and contradicted each other. Unless, therefore, I am convinced by the testimony of Scripture, or by clear reasoning, unless I am persuaded by means of the passages I have quoted, and unless my conscience is thus bound by the Word of God, I can not and will not retract; for it is unsafe and injurious to act against one's conscience. Here I stand, I can do no other: may God help me! Amen."

One of the sublimest scenes in history! No battle ever fought or won has been worth more to the cause of human liberty than this act of the peasant's son in asserting the claims of conscience before the dignitaries of Church and empire.

Various negotiations followed from the imperial and papal party, but diplomacy and threats alike failed to shake the Reformer's resolution. Some Romish advisers urged the Emperor to violate the safe-conduct, and send the arch-heretic to the flames. That Charles did not yield to this pressure, is somewhat to his praise; but his fidelity in this instance was quite offset by his subsequent declarations of regret that he had not violated his pledge and put the offending monk out of the way. 1 See Prescott's continuation of Robertson's Charles V., vol. iii. p. 482. At length, after the departure of Luther and of several of the princes favorable to his cause, the papal legate Aleander, who had strained every nerve to secure the condemnation of the great agitator, had the joy of seeing his machinations successful. Charles V. affixed his signature to a decree as strong and decisive as could be wished. After describing Luther as being guilty of inciting to schism, war, murder, the utter ruin of the Christian faith, and, indeed, as being Satan himself in a monk's frock, the decree continued: "For this reason, under pain of incurring the penalties due to the crime of high treason, we forbid you to harbor the said Luther after the appointed time shall be expired, to conceal him, to give him food or drink, or to furnish him, by word or by deed, publicly or secretly, with any kind of succor whatsoever. We enjoin you, moreover, to seize him, or cause him to be seized, wherever you may find him, to bring him before us without any delay, or to keep him in safe custody until you have learned from us in what manner you are to act towards him, and have received the reward due to your labors in so holy a work. As for his adherents, you will apprehend them, confine them, and confiscate their property. His writings you will burn, or utterly destroy in any other manner." 2 For the complete edict of Worms, see Walch, Luther's Schriften xv. 2264-2279. We have quoted from the smooth and sufficiently accurate rendering by D' Aubigné.

So ended the Diet of Worms. The Emperor and the papal zealots thought, by destroying the brave monk, to destroy the Reformation. Even had Providence placed Luther in the hands of his adversaries, their purpose would not have been accomplished. His heroism had touched ten thousand hearts. The movement had well-nigh ceased to need his advocacy. Henceforth he must appear as one among many champions of the gospel. But Providence did not design that even upon his person should the edict be fulfilled. As Luther was skirting the Thuringian forests on his return from Worms, a troop of horsemen, disguised by masks, fell upon him, scattered his attendants, carried him into the forest, and after numerous windings, in order to obscure their trail, placed him in the Wartburg castle. This friendly violence was to save him from the present storm, and give him leisure for laying still deeper the foundations of the Reformation.

The Crusades

The Crusades

THE Crusades were the first great enterprise which enlisted the common zeal of the Christian nations of Europe. History records scarcely another instance in which an equal enthusiasm has wrought in men of so many different countries and ranks. All classes of society, from the king down to the peasant, sent forth the armed pilgrims who were to reclaim the holy places of the East. Hundreds of thousands, possibly several millions, of men were sacrificed in these expeditions.

At first glance we are astonished at the enormous expenditure of treasure and men upon a project seemingly so utopian. But further scrutiny speedily reveals that substantial causes lay back of the crusades. They were, in fact, a genuine expression of mediaeval institutions, thought, and feeling. The principal factors of mediaeval civilization are clearly visible in their origination.

In the first place, papal ambition urged on the crusades. They were distinctly a means for extending papal dominion. The vanquishing of the infidel and establishing of a Latin power in the East were to be utilized for the union of East and West. The Roman pontiff hoped to find therein means for bringing an undivided Church beneath his scepter. Gregory VII., who was the first to plan a crusade upon a large scale, gave prominence, as we have seen, to this design. Moreover the zeal of the Popes in these movements was stimulated by their bearing upon the papal supremacy in the West. To engage powerful sovereigns in a crusade was an easy way to be relieved from dangerous rivals. Of. course it is not to be supposed that the Popes from first to last were influenced solely by such motives as these. It is but just to credit them with a share in the religious sentiment by which the heart of Europe was so deeply touched. 1 It may be noticed that Gerbert (known afterwards as Pope Sylvester II.), three quarters of a century before the time of Gregory VII., spoke in a vein of deep feeling about the obligations of Christendom to despoiled and mourning Jerusalem. The following words, which he represents her as addressing to the Church Universal, seem very much like a call to a crusade: "Cüm propheta dixerit: erit sepulchrum ejus gloriosum, paganis loca sancta subvertentibus, tentat diabolus reddere inglorium. Enitere ergo, miles Christi, esto signifer et compugnator, et quod armis nequis, consilii et opum auxilio subveni." (Epist. xxviii.) At the same time, it lies on the fact of the history that their zeal was sustained by the desire and the expectation of official advantage.

In the second place, military policy urged on the crusades. Mohammedanism was still a threatening power. The access of a new host of converts, the hardy and sanguinary Turks, had infused into it a new energy. The degenerate Greeks were ill prepared to withstand their onsets. Conscious of their own weakness, they appealed to the Latins for aid, representing that Constantinople with all its heirlooms of Christian antiquity was likely to pass under the profaning hands of the infidels. To be sure, they soon learned to dread the Latins as much as the Turks, and made them the victims in more than one instance of their treacherous arts. But at the outset they were urgent enough in calling them to the rescue. It seemed, therefore, to be the dictate of a wise military discretion to take the offensive, and to beat back the foe before he had captured any more of the strongholds of Christendom.

Again, the crusading enthusiasm was sustained by the prevalent love of romantic adventure and warlike exploits. It was the period of youth in the history of Europe. The age of manly reflection had not yet arrived. Fantasy usurped largely the place of reason. Impelled by its elating and disquieting visions, multitudes from all classes were ready to rush eagerly toward a field of strange adventure. As for the knights, the continual feuds of the age had taught them to regard the practice of arms as their profession. The code of chivalry which was coming into vogue made daring exploits the price of honor. Naturally, therefore, the knight welcomed the crusade as at once gratifying his love of adventure and affording a theatre for the display of his valor.

Once more, the value assigned to pilgrimages as a means of penance and religious edification powerfully assisted in swelling the expeditions to the Holy Land. The crusades might aptly be described as armed pilgrimages. They carried out on a larger scale the custom which long had been fostered by the materialistic piety of the times, -- a piety which depended largely for its inspiration upon material objects and associations. To such a type of religion nothing could seem more desirable, nothing more fruitful to the soul, than to stand amid the scenes which had been sanctified by the Savior's life and sufferings. Heaven, it was fondly pictured, stooped low above the Holy Sepulcher. Jerusalem, accordingly, from the days when the true cross was believed to have been discovered, was a favorite resort. The subjection of the city to Mohammedan rule did not stop the influx except in a season of unusual persecution. A continuous stream of pilgrims sought her gates, to satisfy their religious sentiment, or to gain a respite from the tortures of an accusing conscience. We read of a French count who three times made the journey to Jerusalem, in his penitence for his crimes, and his endeavor to escape the pursuing spectres of those whom his cruelty had destroyed. Many similar examples are on record. Often no greater boon was desired than the privilege of dying on the consecrated soil. When the pilgrims presented themselves before the Holy Sepulcher, they were accustomed, it is said, to offer up this prayer: "Thou who didst die for us and wast buried in this holy spot, take pity of our misery, and withdraw us at once from this valley of tears." 1 J. F. Michaud, History of the Crusades, book i. In some instances quite a large number of pilgrims undertook the journey together. Thus, in the year 1054 the Bishop of Cambray set out with a company of three thousand, and ten years later seven thousand started under the Archbishop of Mayence and the neighboring prelates. This was carrying pilgrimage far toward the proportions of a crusade. Now, as the crusade answered the same ends as a pilgrimage, and was regarded as a work of even greater merit, it was but natural that any cause of special excitement should inflame a numerous host with the ambition to march to Jerusalem and to drive out the infidel.

Such a cause was supplied by the contagious zeal of Peter the Hermit. This man, who was a Frenchman by birth, made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land in atonement for the sins of his early life. Both on his journey and after his arrival he had experienced the barbarities of the Turks, and witnessed the indignities which others suffered at the hands of these rude Mohammedans, who had not the self-restraint to treat Christians with respect and kindness, though they allowed them to visit the Holy City for the sake of the revenue which they brought. At Jerusalem he met the Patriarch Simeon. As he listened to his plaints over the sad condition of affairs and the hopelessness of relief through the Eastern Emperors, he was prompted to reply that Western Europe, if once thoroughly aroused, could be relied upon to bring effectual aid. The Patriarch caught at this suggestion, and, entering readily into the plan of his visitor, gave under his seal such a statement of the facts as might enlist the sympathies of Western Christians. Armed with this document, Peter the Hermit returned to Europe. Abundant success at once attended his efforts. Pope Urban II. entered zealously into the project of a crusade, and the people made a generous response. At the Council of Placentia, in March, 1095, interest in the enterprise was manifested by an attendance of upwards of thirty thousand, and at the Council of Clermont in the ensuing November the enthusiasm of the vast throng broke through all restraint, and interrupted the eloquent address of the Pope with the mighty and confident cry, "God wills it !" -- "God wills it !" The Pope took up the words, declared that they should be the battle cry of Christ's soldiers in the holy war, and commanded that all recruits should attach to their garments the form of the Cross.

The time fixed upon for the departure of the crusading army was August, 1096. But the impatience of the people led them to anticipate this date. Before the military leaders had accomplished their preparations there were already on the march no less than four detachments, namely, some 20,000 under Walter the Penniless, 40,000 under Peter the Hermit, 15,000 under a German priest by the name of Gottschalk, and an ill-assorted rabble of the baser elements of society estimated by some as high as 200,000. A large proportion of these undisciplined and ungovernable troops fell by the hands of the Hungarians and Bulgarians, whose fear or wrath they excited by their lawless conduct. Walter the Penniless and Peter the Hermit succeeded in bringing a remnant of their forces to Constantinople. These had an opportunity to fight with the infidels, but only to be well-nigh exterminated in a rash venture which they made in the neighborhood of Nicæa.

While thus an unguided enthusiasm was vainly sacrificing the lives of tens of thousands, a well officered and well equipped army was being gathered. This came to Constantinople in different divisions, under such leaders as Godfrey of Bouillon, Hugh, Count of Vermandois, Raymond of Toulouse, and Bohemond of Tarentum, with his nephew Tancred. "According to the lowest computation the army must have numbered more than six hundred thousand soldiers and pilgrims. There were upwards of one hundred thousand mailed horsemen, the flower of the chivalry of Europe. They were clothed for the most part in scale armor; their heads were covered with glittering helmets." 1 W. E. Dutton, History of the Crusades. A truly formidable array! The Mohammedans now found that they had to deal with foemen worthy of their steel. In hard contested battles the Christian soldiers proved their superiority. Having taken Nicæa, Edessa, and Antioch on their way, they came at length with depleted ranks to the Holy City. A brief siege and a desperate assault gave them possession, and their swords were dyed with the blood of the infidel inhabitants (1099). Godfrey of Bouillon was chosen King of Jerusalem; and a worthier choice could not have been made. While he accepted the office, he declined the insignia and the title, refusing to wear a crown of gold in the city in which the Savior had worn a crown of thorns, and styling himself simply the "Defender of the Holy Sepulchre." Thus ended the first and most successful of the crusades. After defeating an army sent by the Egyptian Sultan to recapture Jerusalem most of the leaders returned to Europe.

The second crusade (1147-1149) was commanded by Conrad III. of Germany and Louis VII. of France. It was a sad failure. Only a remnant of the great armies which took the march ever passed the limits of Asia Minor, where they were made the prey of treachery, famine, and the sword.

Before the inauguration of the third crusade (1189-1193) the Mohammedans had found a competent leader in the celebrated Saladin, and Europe had been shocked by the news that Jerusalem had again fallen under the rule of the infidel (1187). In response to the cry of grief and dismay the greatest sovereigns took the cross, Frederic I. of Germany, Philip Augustus of France, and Richard of England. Frederic perished on the march. A remnant of his army, together with the forces of Philip and Richard, assisted in the capture of Acre. Further success was hindered by the jealousies of the two kings. Richard, it is true, achieved some remarkable exploits. His valor won him the admiration of the foe, as well as of his Christian adherents. So great, it is said, became the terror of his name, that Saracen mothers were wont to use it sixty years later as a means of frightening their children. But his deeds of bravery and personal force brought little gain to the Christian cause.

An introduction to the fourth crusade (1202-1204) has already been given in the account of the ponficate of Innocent III. Its history shows how the baser motives of worldly ambition had usurped the place of the religious enthusiasm which first started the hosts of Europe toward the coasts of Asia. Instead of regaining Jerusalem from the infidel, it gave the seat of Christian empire in the East into the possession of the Latins.

The fifth crusade (1217-1221), under the King of Hungary, Hugh of Lusignan, and John de Brienne, 1 Hugh was King of Cyprus, John de Brienne nominal King of Jerusalem. gained a temporary success in Egypt. Several years before this expedition, one of the wildest pieces of folly known to European history had been perpetrated, -- the Children's Crusade (1212). In this senseless movement, some thirty or forty thousand children either met their death through exposure and hunger, or, falling into the hands of pitiless and designing men, were sold into slavery.

The sixth crusade (1228-1229) was led by Frederic II. As already observed, he acted under the weight of the papal ban, but was able, nevertheless, to effect a treaty for the surrender of Jerusalem, certain privileges being guaranteed to the Mohammedan residents. It has been supposed that still more favorable terms might have been obtained had it not been for the virulent opposition of the Pope.

In the seventh and eighth crusades, undertaken in 1248 and 1270, the leading figure was St. Louis of France. Both were fruitless. The first came to disaster in Egypt, after a brief season of success, during which Damietta was taken. The second was arrested by the ravages of a plague upon the coast of Africa, where Louis himself was among the victims. Prior to these expeditions, whose best result seems to have been the illustration which they gave of the piety and fortitude of the French King, Jerusalem had been finally lost to the Christians. Other strongholds in Palestine and Syria erelong shared the same fate. With the fall of Acre, in 1291, the last remnant of Christian dominion in the East which had been won by the crusades was relinquished. No serious effort was again put forth to wrest the Holy Land from Mohammedan rule. The voice of a Pope was indeed occasionally raised in favor of a crusade. But zeal for the enterprise had perished, and could not be revived. Europe had not the requisite ambition to guard her own borders against the Turk, to say nothing about routing him from more distant fields.

Among the memorials which survived the crusades the military orders were one of the most interesting. There were three, -- the Hospitallers or Knights of St. John, the Templars, and the Teutonic Knights. The germ of the first was a hospital, which was founded in the eleventh century for the care of sick and wounded pilgrims. The brothers of the hospital lived under monastic rule. In the first half of the twelfth century the association took on a military cast. As now organized, the order consisted of serving brothers, who were occupied with the care of the sick, priests, who discharged the rites of religion, and knights, whose duty it was to fight against the infidel and to guard the pilgrim. On the evacuation of Palestine, the Hospitallers retired to the island of Rhodes. In the time of Charles V. the island of Malta was assigned to them. The organization of the Templars was like that of the Hospitallers. By the end of the crusades the order was extended over a large part of Europe, and was extensively endowed. An object at once of jealousy and avarice, they were assailed by the most damaging reports as respects their morals and their faith, and, at the instigation of the despotic Philip the Fair, the order was dissolved in 1312, after having been subjected to a tragic ordeal. The Teutonic Knights were instituted, after the model of the other orders, in connection with the third crusade, and were specially devoted to the care and protection of German pilgrims. Service was also rendered by this order in the protection of Christianity in the district bordering on the Prussians, who still in the thirteenth century were stubbornly attached to their paganism.

However fruitless the crusades may have been as respects their immediate object, they were far from being destitute of substantial results. If they did not transform Asia according to their intent, they transformed Europe far beyond their design. They brought isolated sections into contact with each other, and led the nations to a wider outlook. They gave a new stimulus to thought and enterprise. The mind of Europe was made by their means more active, more inquisitive, and more confident. Hence, while they enlarged the power of the papacy in the beginning, they abridged it in the end. The Popes came to find in the people a less passive instrument to deal with, so that the assertion of their more extreme pretensions was likely to incur the ignominy of defeat.

At the same time, the crusades effected a great transformation in the constitution of society. They hastened the disintegration of the feudal system. Union in a common enterprise tended to lessen somewhat the distance between lord and vassal, between noble and peasant. Moreover, many a noble found himself embarrassed by the pecuniary demands of these great expeditions. To gain the necessary funds, he might be obliged to release a city from feudal obligations, or to make over a part of his domain to the king or other purchaser. Thus it came to pass that the feudal nobility were depressed, and a relative ascendancy was given to the king and the commercial classes. A centralizing movement, a movement toward the modern type of states, dates from the era of the crusades.