Luther, vol. 3 of 6 :: CHAPTER XX

CHAPTER XX

ATTEMPTS AT UNION IN VIEW OF THE PROPOSED COUNCIL

1. ZÜrich, MÜnster, the Wittenberg Concord, 1536

The tension between Luther and the Swiss theologians grew ever greater after Zwingli’s death. Zwingli’s successors complained bitterly of the unkind treatment and the reprobation meted out at Wittenberg to themselves, as well as to Zwingli’s memory, and their doctrines.

Leo JudÆ, one of the leaders of the Swiss party, writing in 1534 to Bucer, a kindred spirit, concerning the latter’s rough treatment of Schwenckfeld, takes the opportunity to voice his bitter grudge against Luther: “If it is right to oppose Schwenckfeld, why do we not write in the same way against Luther? Why do we not issue a proclamation warning people against him, seeing that he advocates theories, not only on the Sacrament but on other matters too, which are utterly at variance with Holy Scripture? Yet he hands us over to Satan and decrees our exclusion.”[1408]

Martin Bucer himself complained in 1534 to his Zwinglian friend Bullinger: “The fury is intolerable with which Luther storms and rages against everyone who he imagines differs from him, even though not actually an opponent. Thus he curses the most pious men and those who have been of the greatest service to the Church. It is this alone which has brought me into the arena and induced me to join my voice to yours in this controversy on the Sacrament.”[1409]

Heinrich Bullinger, on whom, after Zwingli’s death, devolved the leadership of the Swiss innovators, wrote later to Bucer: “Luther’s rude hostility might be allowed to pass would he but leave intact respect for Holy Scripture.... To such lengths has this man’s proud spirit carried him, while all the preachers and ministers worship his writings as so many oracles, and extol his spirit as apostolic, of whose fulness all have received. What has already taken place leads us to apprehend that this man will eventually bring great misfortune upon the Church.”[1410]

Just as Luther’s work differed from the religious innovations in Switzerland, so it differed equally, or even more, from that of the Anabaptists, despite the fact that the latter traced their origin to Luther’s doctrine of the Bible as the one source of faith, and were largely indebted to him for the stress he had laid on the inward Word.[1411] “The Anabaptist movement was a product of the religious innovations of the sixteenth century,” “the fanatical sect an outcome of the so-called Reformation.”[1412] Notwithstanding the severe persecution they encountered, particularly in Switzerland and in the German uplands, they soon spread throughout other parts of Germany, thanks chiefly to the attractions of their conventicle system. An Imperial mandate of January 4, 1528, imposed the death penalty on Anabaptist heretics, their sacrilegious repetition of baptism being taken as equivalent to a denial of this sacrament and therefore as a capital offence against religion.

The growth of the Anabaptist heresy, in spite of all measures of repression, filled Luther with astonishment, but its explanation is to be found not only in the religious subjectivism let loose among the masses, but also in the fact, that, many elements of revolt smouldering even before Luther’s day helped to further the Anabaptist conflagration. The fanatics also gained many adherents among those who were disappointed in Luther owing to their hopes that he would ameliorate morals not being realised; instead of returning to the true Church they preferred to put their trust in these new sects, thinking that their outward rigour was a guarantee that they would amend the life of the people. The popular preaching and ways of the Anabaptist missioners, recalling the apostolic age of the Church, had a powerful effect upon those of the lower classes who had religious leanings; the sufferings and persecution they endured with such constancy also earned them admiration and sympathy. The sectarians were proud of “the self-sacrificing brotherly love existing in their communities, so different from the stress laid upon a faith only too often quite barren of good works.”[1413]

They were so firm in their repudiation of the Lutheran doctrine of Justification and held fast so frankly to the Catholic principle of the necessity of man’s co-operation in order to secure God’s pardon, that Luther angrily classed them with the Papists: “They are foxes,” he wrote, “who are tied to the Papists by their tails, though the head is different; they behave outwardly as though they were their greatest enemies, and yet they share with them the same heresy against Christ our only Saviour, Who alone is our Righteousness.”[1414] The Anabaptists also opposed the Lutheran doctrine of the Supper, denying, like the Zwinglians, the Real Presence. Their congregations, however, differed vastly both in belief and in observance. To all intents and purposes their strictness was merely outward, serving to cloak the vices of their lives and their frivolous enjoyment of the “freedom of the Gospel.”

Luther’s hostility to the Anabaptists was in many respects of service to Lutheranism; it was inspired and promoted by the law of self-preservation. The culmination of the movement at MÜnster, in Westphalia, showed that the Wittenberger’s instinct had not erred. It is true, however, that Luther’s harsh and repellent conduct towards the Anabaptist sects caused the loss to the Protestants of much that was good which might well have been retained had he shown a little more consideration at least for the better minds among the “fanatics”; their criticism might have done much to remedy what was really amiss.

When, in 1534, the Anabaptists became all-powerful at MÜnster, and that under their very worst form, they made haste to attack Luther. He, of course, was in duty bound to disapprove of their fearsome excesses, particularly when the freedom of the Evangel degenerated into obligatory polygamy and the most revolting service of the flesh. The seditious spirits, in their hatred, declared that “there are two false prophets, the Pope and Luther, but that, of the two, Luther is the worse.”[1415] Luther, on his side, retorted: “Alas, what can I write of these wretched creatures at MÜnster? It is perfectly evident that the devil reigns there in person, yea, one devil sits on the back of another, like the toads do.”[1416]

After the siege of MÜnster had closed in its capture on June 25, 1535, and the reign of terror had been brought to an end by the execution of the leaders, viz. Johann of Leyden and his friends, some of Luther’s followers turned their attention to the Sacramentarian Zwinglians of Switzerland and South Germany, in the hope that some basis might be found for union.

Paul III. had ascended the Papal throne in 1534. On his showing a real intention to summon an [Œcumenical Council in order to put an end to the religious schism, the Reformers began to feel keenly how necessary it was to unite for the purpose of offering practical resistance to their common foe, viz. Catholicism. The political situation was likewise favourable to such efforts. The Nuremberg truce in 1532 had expressly been intended to last only for a limited period, hence the necessity to find new means to make their position secure and increase their numbers.

In 1535 a star of hope which seemed to forebode some agreement rose on the horizon. On this Luther wrote as follows to a trusted friend in August: “An attempt is being made, with great hopes and yearning, to come to some agreement (‘concordia’) between ourselves and the Sacramentarians. Christ grant it to be realised and of His Goodness remove that great scandal so that strong measures may not be necessary as at MÜnster.”[1417] Hence the Swiss theologians in his eyes were scarcely better than the authors of the disgraceful abominations in Westphalia.

What sort of “concord” was to be expected while such a temper held sway unless, indeed, the Zwinglians were prepared to renounce their own existence and throw their master overboard?

The prime movers in the attempt to bring about an understanding between the Lutherans and the Swiss and the like-minded Evangelicals of Upper Germany, were the Landgrave Philip of Hesse, and the theologian Martin Bucer.

Bucer, who was unremitting in his efforts to secure that union which was his life-ideal, had already, at the Diet of Augsburg, paved the way for an understanding, not without some success. At the Coburg (September 25-26, 1530) he managed to win over Luther to his view, viz. that an agreement might be looked for with the Strasburgers regarding the Sacrament.[1418] He then travelled through Upper Germany and Switzerland with a plan for compromise, in which the contradiction between the denial and assertion of the Presence of Christ in the Sacrament was ably concealed; Melanchthon he met at Cassel in 1534, and on this occasion, ostensibly in the name of many South-German theologians, made proposals which seem to have satisfied Luther.

After further preliminaries, peace negotiations were to have taken place at Eisleben in the spring of 1536, but as Luther, owing to illness and new scruples, did not appear, discussion was deferred till May 22, the delegates to meet at Wittenberg. Thither representatives of Strasburg, Augsburg, Memmingen, Ulm, Esslingen, Reutlingen, Frankfurt, and Constance betook themselves, accompanied by the Lutherans, Menius from Eisenach and Myconius from Gotha. No Swiss delegate was present.

After protracted negotiations the South-German theologians accepted a number of articles drawn up by Melanchthon and known as the Wittenberg Concord.[1419]

In this they recognised the practice of infant baptism; as regards Confession, they admitted that, though confession as formerly practised could not be tolerated, yet a humble private interview with the preacher, and private absolution previous to the reception of communion, were useful and wholesome. On the other hand, however, the main difference, viz. that concerning the Presence of Christ in the Sacrament, was only seemingly bridged over. It is true the South-German delegates accepted the formula, that in the Sacrament, the Body and Blood of the Lord are “really and substantially” present by virtue of Christ’s words of institution, so that even the “unworthy” verily receive the Body and Blood of Christ. The interpretation which they, headed by Bucer, placed upon the words showed, however, quite plainly, that they did not agree with Luther, but still clung to the view that Christ is not corporally present but only by that faith, which even the “unworthy” may have, and that He does not bestow on the communicant His Flesh and Blood, but merely His grace. “The Real Presence of Christ was to him [Bucer] after all only a spiritual presence.”[1420] At any rate “the South-Germans, under stress of political danger, rejoined Luther,”[1421] though some of the towns subsequently added conditions to their acceptance of the arrangements made by their theologians.

Having been thus far successful Bucer, with consummate ability and eloquence, proceeded to try to win over the friendly Swiss Zwinglians to the Concord.

The Swiss were not, however, to be so easily induced to take this step. In spite of several friendly letters from Luther they could not arrive at the same apparent agreement with him as the South-Germans. For this the blame rested to some extent on Luther’s shoulders, his conduct at this juncture, owing to political considerations, being neither well-defined nor straightforward. The Burgomasters and Councillors of the seven towns, ZÜrich, Bern, Basle, Schaffhausen, St. Gall, MÜhlhausen and Bienne, addressed letters to him couched in conciliatory language, but Luther, in spite of Bullinger’s request, would not even enumerate in detail the points of difference which separated them from him. For the nonce he preferred the policy of leaving doctrine alone and of “calming down, smoothing and furthering matters for the best,”[1422] though all the time he was well aware of their theological views and firm in his repudiation of them.

“The matter refuses to suit itself to us, and we must accordingly suit ourselves to it,”[1423] such was, for a long while, his motto. He is willing to hold out to the Zwinglians the hand of friendship without, however, consenting to regard the points in dispute as minor matters. Possibly he cherished the hope that, little by little, agreement would be reached even on these points.

Luther’s attitude has rightly been considered strange, particularly when compared with his former severity. Even Protestants have instanced it as remarkable, that he should have contrived “to close his eyes to the differences which still remained in spite of the Concord, and to agree with people whose previous teaching he had regarded as dangerous heresy, requiring to be expelled by a determined testimony to the truth.”[1424] At any rate “the broadness manifested by Luther in this matter of faith” was something very foreign to his usual habits.

The explanation of the change in his behaviour lies chiefly in his urgent desire “to become terrible to the Pope and the Emperor” by forming an alliance with the Swiss Churches and townships, a hope which he even expressed to his Wittenberg friends, adding, however, that “in men one can never trust,” and, “I will not surrender God’s Word.”[1425] To Duke Albert of Prussia he wrote full of joy, in May, 1538: “Things have been set going with the Swiss, who hitherto have been at loggerheads with us on account of the Sacrament.... I hope God will put an end to this scandal, not for our sake, for we have deserved it, but for His Name’s sake, and in order to vex the abomination at Rome, for they are greatly affrighted and apprehensive at the new tidings.”[1426] Considerations of policy had entirely altered Luther’s tone to the Zwinglians.

The bridge, however, collapsed before its completion.

The unrestrained language which Luther again employed towards the Swiss did much to demonstrate how little real foundation there was in the efforts at conciliation. The experiences he met with made him regret his passing opportunism, and in later life the tone in which he spoke of the Zwinglian errors and their supporters was violent in the extreme. When a letter reached him from the Evangelicals of Venice bewailing the dissensions aroused by the controversy on the Sacrament, he said in his reply, dated June, 1543: These Zwinglians and their neighbours “are intoxicated by an alien spirit, and their company must be avoided as infectious.”[1427]

To his friend Link he wrote about that time: “These Swiss and ZÜrichers pronounce their own condemnation by their pride and madness, as Paul says” (Titus iii. 11).[1428] To ZÜrich itself he soon made no secret of his changed temper, writing in August that: he could have no fellowship with the preachers there; they were determined to lead the unfortunate people to hell; the judgment of God which had overtaken Zwingli would also fall upon these preachers of blasphemy, since they had made up their minds to follow Zwingli.[1429]

In September of that same year appeared his energetic “Kurtz Bekentnis Doctor Martin Luthers vom heiligen Sacrament.”[1430]

Complying with a need he felt he sought in this writing to give public testimony to his faith in the Eucharist; in order at once to disperse the ghosts of the Concord, and to bar the progress of the denial of the Sacrament which had already infected Melanchthon and other friends around him, he here speaks frankly and openly. In his usual vein he says, that it was his wish “to be able to boast at the Judgment Seat of the Lord” that “I condemned with all my power the fanatics and enemies of the Sacrament, Carlstadt, ‘Zwingel,’ [Œcolampadius, ‘Stinkfield’ [Schwenckfeld], and their disciples at ZÜrich and wherever else they be.” The fanatics, he says, make a “great to-do” about a spiritual eating and drinking, but they are “murderers of souls.” They have a “devilish heart and lying lips.” Whoever believed not the Article concerning Christ’s Presence in the Sacrament, could not believe in the Incarnation. “Hence there is no alternative, you must either believe everything or nothing.” Thus Luther himself at last comes to urge against his opponents what Catholic apologists had long before urged against him. They had said: If you set aside this or that article of faith on the grounds of a higher illumination, the result will be the complete subversion of the faith, for the edifice of doctrine is one inseparable whole; the divine and the ecclesiastical authority is the same for all the articles, and, if everything be not accepted, in the end nothing will remain.

2. Efforts in view of a Council. Vergerio visits Luther

Pope Clement VII. († 1534), though at first apprehensive, owing to his knowledge of what had happened in the time of the Reforming Councils, had nevertheless, towards the end of his life, promised the Emperor Charles V. at Bologna, in 1533, that he would summon an [Œcumenical Council. He had also sought to persuade the King of France, FranÇois I., on the occasion of their meeting at Marseilles in the same year, to agree to the Council’s being held in one of the Italian towns which Pope and Emperor had agreed on at Bologna.[1431] But while Rome showed herself willing enough, the King of France put great obstacles in the way of a Council, in the hope, that, by preventing it, he would prevent Germany from securing peace within her borders.

Paul III., the successor of Clement VII., was more successful, though he too had to battle with his own scruples and to overcome obstacles greater even than those which faced his predecessor.

Soon after beginning his pontificate he dispatched three Nuncios to pave the way for the Council, Rodolfo Pio de Carpi to France, Giovanni Guidiccione to Spain, and Pierpaolo Vergerio to Germany. The last of these found the Catholic Courts perfectly willing to support the Council; the heads of the Evangelical party, however, chose to observe an attitude to be more fully described further on.

Charles V. having agreed to the choice of Mantua as the town where the Council was to be held, Paul III., in spite of the refusal of the Protestants, by his Bull of June 2, 1536, summoned the bishops to meet at Mantua on May 23 of the following year. Needless to say, the assembly and its procedure were to be governed by the same rules as in the case of earlier Councils of the Church.

The journey of Vergerio, the Nuncio, through Germany deserves closer attention on account of his meeting with Luther.

The Papal envoy, who hailed from Capodistria and was more skilful in Court transactions than in theology, commenced his journey on February 10, 1535. From Vienna he proceeded to visit the Bavarian Dukes and Suabia. He then travelled along the Main and the Rhine as far north as LiÈge, returning by way of Cologne through Saxony to Brandenburg. Coming south from Berlin he passed a night at Wittenberg, where he met Luther, and returned by way of Dresden and Prague to Vienna. Everywhere he did his best not only to secure consent to the Papal plan of holding the Council in an Italian town, but also, as he had been instructed, to combat the dangerous though popular opposite plan of a German national Council. He could talk well, had a sharp eye for business, and a fine gift of observation. His expectations as regards the Protestants were, however, far too rosy. The polite reception he met with from the Protestant sovereigns and the honours done him flattered his vanity, indeed, but were of little service to the cause he represented.

What his intention was in going to Wittenberg and interviewing Luther is not clear. He had no instructions to do so. If he hoped to win over Luther to work for the Council and for reunion, he was sadly deceived. In reality all he did was to expose himself and his cause to insult and to furnish his guest a welcome opportunity for boasting. In that same year, in a work in which he held up the Council of Constance to derision, Luther told the people how little Councils were to be respected; by this Council the Church had said to Christ: “You are a heretic and your teaching is of the devil”; hence the Roman Church was possessed, “not of seven, but of seven and seventy barrelfuls of devils”;[1432] now at last it was time for Christ to uncover back and front the “raving, bloodthirsty scarlet woman and reveal her shame to the whole world” in order to put an end to “the insult which has been, and still is being, offered to our dear Saviour by the dragon heads which peer out of the back parts of the Pope-Ass and vomit forth abuse.”[1433]

From Vergerio’s circumstantial reports as Nuncio, and from other sources,[1434] we learn the details of the historic meeting between the standard-bearer of the religious innovations and the envoy of the head of Christendom.

On his arrival at Wittenberg, on November 6, the Nuncio, accompanied by twenty-one horsemen, proceeded to the Castle, where he was to be the guest of Metzsch, the Commandant. He sent an invitation by Metzsch to Luther to spend the evening with him, but the latter refused to come so late and the visit was accordingly arranged for the following morning. Luther dressed himself in his best clothes, put on a gold chain, had himself carefully shaved and his hair tidily brushed. To the astonished barber he said jestingly, that he must appear young in the eyes of the Legate so as to give him the impression that he was still able to undertake and accomplish a great deal and thus make them fear him at Rome; he was determined to read the Roman gentry a good lesson; they had molested him and his followers enough, now it was his turn to get his own back. As he sat in the carriage with Bugenhagen the pastor of Wittenberg, ready for the drive to the Castle, he said: “Here go the German Pope and Cardinal Pomeranus, the chosen instruments of the Almighty.”

After being presented to the Legate, during which ceremony he doffed his hat (the only sign of respect he was willing to vouchsafe), he was invited to breakfast with him. During the conversation which ensued he was at pains to show his real feelings by a demeanour as hostile and threatening as possible. “During the whole of the meal,” as he himself related later to Justus Jonas,[1435] “I played the true Luther; what sort of things I said could not be put on paper.” At the first greeting he at once asked the Nuncio ironically, whether he had not perchance already heard him decried in Italy as a drunken German.

Pope Paul III. being mentioned by the Nuncio, Luther said, that he might quite well be a prudent and honest man; such was the common report concerning the Farnese when he (Luther) was at Rome; but then, he added with a mocking smile, at that time he himself was still in the habit of saying Mass.

Luther himself in the Table-Talk relates his reply to the proposal to attend the Council: “I shall come,” he said, “but you Papists are working and exerting yourselves in vain ... for, when in Council, you never discuss wholesome doctrine, the Sacraments, or the faith which alone makes us just and saves us ... but only foolish puerilities, such as the long habits and frocks which religious and priests are to wear, how wide the girdle shall be and how large the tonsure,” etc. The account goes on to say, that, at this sally, Vergerio, turning to his companion, said: “Verily he has hit the nail on the head.” It is difficult to believe that Vergerio actually made such a statement in this connection.

Speaking of the [Œcumenical Council which had been summoned, we read in Vergerio’s report that Luther with insufferable arrogance exclaimed: “We stand in no need of a Council for ourselves or our followers, for we already have the firm Evangelical doctrine and rule; but Christendom needs the Council in order to learn to distinguish truth and error, so far as it is still held captive by false doctrine.” At this outburst the Nuncio expressed his astonishment: “Yes, I will come to the Council,” Luther interrupted him angrily, “I will forfeit my head rather than fail to defend my teaching against the whole world. What proceeds from my mouth, is not my own anger, but the wrath of God!”—Whoever knows the man can scarcely doubt that Luther would actually have gone to the Council under certain conditions, particularly if furnished with a safe-conduct, though, of course, only once again to “play the real Luther.” He certainly did not lack the audacity. He even declared himself willing to agree to any of the places proposed for the Council, whether Mantua, Verona, or Bologna; when it was pointed out that Bologna belonged to the Pope, Luther, in the presence of the Pope’s own representative, cried: “Good God, so the Pope has grabbed that city too!” Curiously enough, in the report he forwarded to Rome, the Nuncio declares himself satisfied with Luther’s readiness to attend the Council.

Vergerio also led the conversation to Henry VIII., the King of England; as Robert Barnes, an emissary of his, was then staying with Luther at Wittenberg, he may have hoped to learn something of the King’s intentions. Luther, however, was extremely reticent. As he himself expressed it in a letter, he acted the part of Barnes’s representative with “most vexatious sayings,” i.e. with such as would most annoy and vex the Nuncio. When mention was made of the cruel execution of Bishop John Fisher—created Cardinal whilst awaiting his fate in prison—Luther ejaculated that his death was a judgment from on high because he had won the Cardinalate by withstanding the Gospel.

Vergerio coming to speak of the Wittenberg hierarchy, Luther admitted that, at Wittenberg, they ordained priests and that Pastor Bugenhagen, who was then present, “was the bishop appointed for that work; he ordained as St. Paul had taught”; all in vain had the “most holy bishops” of the Papists refused to ordain the Lutheran preachers. Alluding to his family, he said he hoped to leave behind him in his firstborn a great preacher, priest and teacher of the Evangel. The “reverend” nun “whom he had married had so far presented him with three boys and two girls.” Various religious practices came under discussion and Vergerio, hoping to please, remarked, that he had found much amongst the German Protestants different from what he had been led to expect. He also spoke of fasting, but Luther bluntly declared, that, just because the Pope had commanded it, they would refuse to observe it; if, however, the Emperor were to give the order, they would comply with it; he himself would be right glad were the Emperor to set apart two days in every week to be kept as strict fasts.

Though all this, which, moreover, the Nuncio took quite seriously, made him angry, as is evident from his report, yet he found leisure during the conversation to observe his guest closely. He describes his dress: A doublet of dark camelot cloth, the sleeves trimmed with satin; over this a rather short coat of serge, edged with fox skin.[1436] The large, rough buttons used struck the Italian as peculiar. On Luther’s fingers he saw several rings and round his neck the heavy gold chain. He found that Luther did not speak Latin very well and ventured to surmise that certain books, couched in better Latin, were probably not really written by him. Of this, however, there is no proof. Luther admitted to him that he was not used to speaking Latin and that he was more at home in German. He looked strong, so Vergerio says, and though past fifty did not appear to be even forty years of age. He considered Luther’s features extremely coarse, tallying with his manners, which displayed “presumption, malice and want of reflection.” His way of speaking showed that “everything he did was done in irritation, annoyance and out of spite; he was a silly fellow, without either depth or discernment.”[1437]

Vergerio also fancied he saw in him something devilish. The longer he observed the piercing, uncanny glance of Luther’s eyes, so he writes, the more he was put in mind of certain persons who were regarded by many as possessed; the heat, the restlessness, the fury and frenzy expressed in his eyes were quite similar to theirs.[1438] He even casually refers to circumstances (which, however, he does not describe) of Luther’s birth and earlier years, which he had learnt from friends of Luther’s who had been intimate with him before he became a monk; they confirmed him in his belief that the devil had entered into Luther.[1439] Although Vergerio immediately after admits his doubt (“whether he be possessed or not”), yet in what he had written Contarini discovered sufficient to justify him in saying that Vergerio “found that Martin was begotten of the devil.”[1440] Contarini here is really building on a stupid fable, which, as will be shown later (vol. iv., xxvii. 1), is first met with in the writings of Petrus Sylvius, a Catholic author. What the Legate says concerning the circumstances of Luther’s parents is not of a nature to excite any confidence in the reliability of his information about Luther’s youth. In Rome people were already perfectly acquainted with Luther’s antecedents, as information had been obtained from reliable witnesses even before his final excommunication. The tittle-tattle of this new informant could accordingly have no influence on the opinion concerning him already prevailing there.

After Vergerio the Nuncio had returned to Rome in the beginning of 1536, full of extravagant hopes, he took part in the drafting of the Bull already mentioned, summoning the Council to meet at Mantua in 1537. In the same year he was consecrated bishop. He was not, however, employed in diplomacy as frequently as he wished. In 1541 unfavourable reports began to circulate concerning his attitude towards the Church; he was charged with Protestant leanings, though some of the witnesses in the trial which he had to stand at Venice protested his entire innocence. At any rate, towards the close of 1548 he openly apostatised and fled to the Grisons, where he placed his services at the disposal of the Swiss Reformers. His desire to distinguish himself next caused him to abandon the Swiss Zwinglians and to settle at TÜbingen. After many journeys, undertaken with the object of thwarting the Church of Rome, this pushful and unrestrained man died at TÜbingen in 1565, still at enmity with Catholicism.[1441]

3. The Schmalkalden Assembly of 1537. Luther’s Illness

The Schmalkalden League, established in 1531 (see above, p. 64 ff.), was in the main directed against the Emperor and the Empire. It had grown stronger by the accession of other Princes and States who bound themselves to render mutual assistance in the interests of the innovations. In the very year Vergerio started on his mission of peace in December, 1535, the warlike alliance, headed by Hesse and the Saxon Electorate, had been renewed at Schmalkalden for ten years. It undertook to raise 10,000 foot soldiers and 2000 horse for the defence of the Evangel, and, in case of need, to double the number.

To oppose this a more united and better organised league of the Catholics was imperatively called for; the alliance already entered into by some of the Princes who remained true to the older Church, required to be strengthened and enlarged. In 1538 the new leaguers met at Nuremberg; at their head were Charles V. and Ferdinand the German King, while amongst the most prominent members were the Dukes Wilhelm and Ludwig of Bavaria and the Archbishops of Mayence and Salzburg, whose secular principalities were very considerable.

Arming of troops, threats of war, and petty broils aroused apprehension again and again, but, on the whole, peace was maintained till Luther’s death.

The protesting Estates were desirous of deciding, at a convention to be held at Schmalkalden on Candlemas Day, 1537, upon the attitude to be assumed towards the Council convened by the Pope to Mantua. Hence, on August 30, 1536, Johann Frederick, Elector of Saxony, instructed Luther to draw up a preliminary writing; he was to state on Scriptural grounds what he felt it his duty to advance concerning all the Articles of his teaching as though he were in the presence of a Council or before the Judgment-Seat of God, and also to point out those Articles regarding which some concessions might be made “without injury to God or His Word.”

Luther therefore set to work on his “Artickel so da hetten sollen auffs Concilion zu Mantua,” etc., duly printed in 1538, with some slight alterations.

Here, whilst expounding theologically the various Lutheran doctrines, he gives his opinion on the Pope; this opinion is all the more remarkable because incorporated in a document intended to be entirely dispassionate and to furnish the Council with a clear statement of the new faith. The Pope, so Luther declares, is “merely bishop or parish-priest of the churches of Rome”; the universal spiritual authority he had arrogated to himself was “nothing but devilish fable and invention”; he roared like the dragon in the Apocalypse, who led the whole world astray (Apoc. xii. 9); he told people: “All you do is done in vain unless you take me for your God.” “This point plainly proves that he is the real Endchrist and Antichrist, who sets himself up against and above Christ, because he will not allow Christians to be saved without his authority.... This even the Turks and ‘Tatters’ do not dare to attempt, great enemies of Christians though they be.” “Hence, as little as we can adore the devil himself, as Lord and God, so little can we suffer his apostle, the Pope, or Endchrist, to rule as our Head and Lord. For his real work is lying and murder, and the eternal destruction of body and soul, as I have proved at length in many books.”[1442]

Luther concludes this memorable theological essay (at least in the printed version) with an application to the projected Council: “If those who obey the Evangel attend it, our party will be standing before the Pope and the devil himself.” At the Diet of Augsburg they stood before the Empire, “before the Emperor and secular authorities,” who had been gracious enough to give the cause a hearing; now, however, we must say to the Pope, as in the book of Zacharias [iii. 2] the angel said to the devil: ‘May God rebuke thee, Satan.’[1443]

When engaged on this work, and whilst the Schmalkalden meeting was in progress, Luther appears to have been the prey of a perfect paroxysm of fury. Hate, as a positive mental disorder, then attained in him an acute crisis. Later on, his anger abated for a while, as though exhausted, until, just before his death, the spirit of the storm broke out afresh with hurricane violence in his “Wider das Bapstum zu Rom vom Teuffel gestifft.”

At the time he wrote his work in preparation for the Schmalkalden meeting he was already ailing. His nervous system was strained beyond all limit. Hence we can more readily understand the passion which seems to possess him against that Church of Rome, which, instead of collapsing, as he had fondly hoped she would, was daily growing stronger in spite of all her losses.

The “Artickel,” which were submitted to Johann Frederick the Elector, on January 6, 1537, were signed likewise by Jonas, Bugenhagen, Cruciger, and Melanchthon. Melanchthon, however, because the abuse of the Pope did not meet with his approval and was scarcely to be squared with his previous temporising assurances, added that, he, for his part, was ready, “in the interests of peace and the common unity of those Christians who are now subject to him and may be so in the future,” to admit the Pope’s supremacy over the bishops; but the Pope was to hold his office only by “human right” and “in as far as he was willing to admit the Evangel.” Johann Frederick was sufficiently clear-sighted to see through this proposal—so typical of Melanchthon—and to recognise in it a vain attempt to square the circle. He expressed his disapproval of the addition, pointing out that any recognition of the Papacy would involve a return to the old bondage. The Pope “and his successors would leave no stone unturned to destroy and root out us and our successors.”

The opinion of the Elector prevailed in the Council of the Princes and among the preachers assembled at Schmalkalden.

For all their exasperation against the Pope, Luther, and the Wittenberg theologians, were not averse to taking part in the Council. Luther, for instance, opined, that they ought not to give the Papists an excuse for saying they had made impossible the holding of a Council.[1444] In a memorandum of December 6, 1536, the theologians, with Luther and Amsdorf, advised that the Council should be promoted, so as to render possible a protest. The proposal of the Elector to hold an opposition Council they rejected, urging that such a Council would “look terribly like establishing a schism”; moreover, the lack of agreement among themselves would permit of no such thing, for they would be exposing themselves to the contempt of their opponents, and holding back foreign countries from joining the Evangel. On the other hand, it was the duty of the authorities to offer resistance in the interests of their subjects and Divine worship, should the Council prove unjust; open violence and notorious injustice were to be met by violence.[1445] In this memorandum Melanchthon’s influence is clear enough in the apprehension of any appearance of setting up a “schism.” Luther signed it with the words: “I, Martin Luther, will do my best by prayer, and if needs be, with the fist.”[1446] The Schmalkalden delegates, however, as we shall see below, strode rough-shod over this memorandum and declined to have anything to do with the Council.

On January 31, 1537, Luther, with Melanchthon and Bugenhagen, set out for Schmalkalden where a Papal envoy, the Bishop of Acqui, was also expected. On the journey he said in the presence of several gentlemen of the Nuncio’s retinue: “So the devil is sending the Papal emissary as his ambassador to Schmalkalden to see if, perchance, he can destroy God’s work.” Besides the secular delegates, some forty Protestant theologians had gathered at Schmalkalden, and Melanchthon was in the greatest apprehension lest quarrels should break out amongst them.[1447] His fears were not altogether groundless, for it was not long before the usual want of unanimity became apparent amongst the Lutheran preachers. The “Artickel,” drawn up by Luther, aroused dissension. They were not equally acceptable to all, some, for instance, taking offence at his teaching on the Supper, so that a controversy on this point between such men as Amsdorf and Osiander on the one side and Blaurer on the other, was to be feared. Melanchthon, however, was more cautious and avoided insisting on his own divergent view regarding the Eucharist. He and Cruciger were sternly charged by Cordatus, the minister, with not preaching aright Luther’s doctrine of Justification by Faith, and the charge was supported also by Amsdorf. Osiander, the Nuremberg theologian, finally set against a sermon of Luther’s on the divine sonship conferred on the Christian by faith in Christ (1 John iv. 1 ff.), a sermon of his own, embodying quite other views.

Luther could think of no better plan than to lay before the Elector his fears lest internal strife should prove the undoing of his whole enterprise, and to implore him, as father of the country, to take some steps to prevent this.

Owing to the disunion rife among the preachers, Luther’s “Artickel” were never officially discussed by the delegates. This was primarily Melanchthon’s doing; by means of an intrigue which he started at the very outset of the Conference, and thanks to the assistance of the Landgrave of Hesse, he had caused it to be settled behind Luther’s back, that no explicit acceptance of Luther’s exposition of faith was called for, seeing that the Estates had already taken their stand on the basis of the Augsburg Confession and the Wittenberg Concord. “The device was characteristic enough of Melanchthon, but his procedure as a whole can scarcely be acquitted of insincerity.” (Ellinger.)

Melanchthon was now entrusted with the preparation of a fresh work on the Papal Primacy, to be described more fully later.[1448] Although it far exceeds in malice any other work of Melanchthon’s, or perhaps for that very reason, it was accepted by the Princes and the theologians.

The truth is, that, in their hostility to Popery all were at one. Opposition to the Church was the bond which united them.

Meanwhile, whilst at Schmalkalden, Luther had been visited by a severe attack of stone, an old trouble which now seemed to put his life in danger. During this illness his hatred of the Pope broke out afresh, yet, later, he felt justified in boasting of the moderation he had displayed during the convention, because, forsooth, of his advice regarding attendance at the Council. He prides himself on the consideration which at Schmalkalden he had shown the Papists: “Had I died there, it would probably have been the ruin of the Papists, for only after I am dead will they see what a friend they have had in me; for other preachers will prove incapable of the same moderation and ‘epieikeia.’”[1449]

Luther’s illness increased to such an extent that fears were entertained for his life. He himself thought seriously of death, though never for an instant did he think of reconciliation.

His prayer, as he related later, was as follows: “O God, Thou knowest that I have taught Thy Word faithfully and zealously.... O Lord Jesus Christ, how grand a thing is it for a man to die by the sword for Thy Word.... I die as an enemy of Thine enemies, I die under the ban of the Pope, but he dies under Thy ban.... I die in hatred of the Pope (‘ego morior in odio papÆ’).”[1450] “Thou, Lord Christ,” he said, “take vengeance upon Thine enemy; I have done well in tearing the Pope to pieces.” On February 25, when racked with pain, he said to Herr von Ponikau, one of the Elector’s chamberlains: “I have to be stoned like Stephen, and the Pope will rejoice. But I hope he will not laugh long; my epitaph shall be verified: ‘In life, O Pope, I was thy plague, in dying I shall be thy death (‘Pestis eram vivus, moriens ero mors tua, Papa’).’”[1451]

On February 26 the sick man was brought away from Schmalkalden in a carriage, the intention being to convey him to Wittenberg. Luther was anxious not to rejoice the Papists by breathing his last in a locality where the Bishop of Acqui, the Papal envoy, was stopping. “At least not in the presence of the monster, the Pope’s ambassador,” as he said. “I would die willingly enough were not the devil’s Legate at Schmalkalden, for he would cry aloud to the whole world that I had died of fright.” This he said before his departure.[1452] Seated in the carriage as the horses were being got ready, he received the greetings of those present and made the sign of the cross over them, saying: “May the Lord fill you with His blessing and with hatred of the Pope.”[1453] Mathesius, his pupil, adds in his 11th Sermon on Luther: “Then and there, in the carriage, he made his last will and testament, willing and bequeathing to his friends the preachers, ‘odium in papam,’ viz. that they should not allow themselves to be deceived by the Pope’s doctrine but remain constant to the end in their hostility to his idolatry.”[1454] According to Ericeus he also said on leaving: “Take heed to this when I am dead: If the Pope lays aside his crown, renounces his throne and primacy, and admits that he has erred and destroyed the Church, then and only then will we receive him into our communion, otherwise he will always remain in our eyes the real Antichrist.”[1455]

After Luther’s departure the assembly considered the question of the Council. Any share in it was refused point-blank. Even the letters on the subject which the Legate had brought with him were returned unopened. In the final resolution the proposed [Œcumenical Council—although it was to be held in complete accordance with ancient ecclesiastical rules—was described as a partisan, unreliable and unlawful assembly because it would consist exclusively of bishops, would be presided over by the Pope and would not be free to decide according to the Word of God.

In its outspoken rejection of the Council the Conference was more logical than Luther and his theological counsellors. The warlike company brushed aside all the considerations of prudence and policy alleged by the more timid theologians.

They further declared, that they would maintain the Wittenberg Concord of 1536; it was also stated in the resolutions that their theologians were agreed upon all the points of the Augsburg Confession and “Apologia”; one article only, viz. that concerning the authority of the Pope, had they altered; in other words, they had accepted the recently drafted document of Melanchthon’s, which, however, repudiated the Papacy far more firmly than the Augsburg Confession had done. (See below, p. 439.)

Luther, though absent, had every reason to be satisfied with what had been achieved.

Luther’s condition had meanwhile improved, and he had already returned to Wittenberg. On the very first day of his journey he had felt some relief, and on the following day he wrote to Melanchthon to inform him of it, crowning the joyful tidings with his blessing:

“May God preserve you all and cast down Satan under your feet with all his crew, viz. the monsters of the Roman Curia.”[1456]

On his arrival at Gotha, the journey having proved toilsome and exhausting, and the malady again threatening to grow worse, he made his so-called “First Will.” It commences with the words: “I know, God be praised, that I have done rightly in storming the Papacy with the Word of God, for Popery spells blasphemy against God, Christ and the Gospel.” In his name they were to tell the Elector, our sovereign, and also the Landgrave, that “they were not to allow themselves to be disturbed at the howls of their opponents, who charged them with stealing the possessions of the Church; they do not rob like some others do; indeed, I see [such at least was his hope] how, with these goods, they provide for the welfare of religion. If a little of it falls to their share, who has a better right to it than they? Such possessions belong to the Princes rather than to the rascally Papists. Both sovereigns were to do confidently on behalf of the Evangel whatever the Holy Ghost inspired them to do.... If they are not pure in all things, but in some respects sinners, as our foes allege, yet they must trust in God’s mercy.... I am now ready to die if the Lord so will, but I should like to live at least till Whitsun, in order, before all the world, to write against the Roman beast and its Kingdom with a heavier fist.... If I recover I intend to do far worse than ever before. And now I commend my soul into the hands of the Father and my Lord Jesus Christ, Whom I have preached and confessed upon earth.”[1457]

His friends related that at Gotha he made his confession, and received “absolution” from Bugenhagen. After his state of health had greatly improved he was able to continue his journey to Wittenberg, where he arrived safely. Thence, a week later, he was able to announce to Spalatin the progress of his “convalescence, by God’s grace,” commending himself likewise to his prayers.[1458]

His anger against the Pope, to which hitherto he had not been able to give free rein, he now utilised to stimulate and refresh his exhausted bodily and mental powers. He once said, that, to write, pray or preach well, he had first to be angry. In Mathesius we find Luther’s own description of the effects of his anger: “Then my blood is refreshed, my mind becomes keen and all my temptations vanish.”[1459]

Here we must revert once more to his maledictory prayer against the Pope and the Papists, and to certain other of his sayings.[1460]

“If I am so cold at heart that I cannot pray,” so he said on one occasion to Cordatus, “I call to mind the impiety and ingratitude of my foes, the Pope and King Ferdinand, in order to inflame my heart with righteous hate, so that I can say: Hallowed be Thy Name, etc., and then my prayer glows with fervour.”[1461] As given in the German edition of the Table-Talk, his words are briefer, but none the less striking: “I conjure up the godlessness of the Pope with all his ulcers and parasites, and soon I grow warm and burn with anger and hate.”[1462] As already related, in his maledictory Paternoster, he accompanies the petitions of the Lord’s Prayer with a commentary of curses.[1463] He would fain see others too, “cursing the Papacy with the Our Father, that it may catch St. Vitus’s Dance.”[1464] Concerning his Paternoster he assures us, “I say this prayer daily with my lips, and in my heart without intermission.” And yet he does not shrink from adding: “Nevertheless I preserve a friendly, peaceable and Christian spirit towards everyone; this even my greatest enemies know.”[1465]

In 1538, the year after his serious illness, an amended edition of his “Unterricht der Visitatorn an die Pharhern” was issued by him. Although he exhorts the pastors to “refrain from abusive language” in the pulpit, yet he expressly tells them to “damn the Papacy and its followers with all earnestness as already damned by God, like the devil and his kingdom.”[1466]

Luther’s character presents many psychological problems which seem to involve the observer in inextricable difficulty; certain phenomena of his inner life can scarcely be judged by common standards. The idea of the devil incarnate in Popery distorts his judgment, commits him to statements of the maddest kind, and infects even his moral conduct. It is not easy to say how far he remained a free agent in this matter, or whether the quondam Catholic, priest and monk never felt the prick of conscience, yet such questions obtrude themselves at every step. For the present we shall merely say that his freedom, and consequently his actual responsibility, were greater at the time he first gave such ideas a footing in his mind, than when he had fallen completely under their spell.[1467]

4. Luther’s Spirit in Melanchthon

During the spring of 1537, when Luther was at Schmalkalden writhing under bodily anguish and the influence of his paroxysm of hate, a notable change took place in Melanchthon’s attitude towards the older Church. The earlier spiritual crisis, if we may speak of such a thing, ended in his case in an almost inexplicable embitterment against the Church of his birth.

A proof of this is more particularly to be found in the document then drawn up by Melanchthon, “On the power and primacy of the Pope.”[1468]

But a short time before he had looked upon the declaration against the Pope, drafted by Luther for the Schmalkalden Conference, as too strong. Yet, after having, as related above,[1469] all unknown to Luther, contrived to prevent any discussion of the latter’s so-called “Artickel,” and having, at the request of the Princes and Estates, set to work on a statement concerning the Primacy and the Episcopate, he himself came gradually, perhaps without noticing it, under the influence of the passion of anti-popery which found expression at this Assembly.

In Melanchthon’s Schmalkalden writing “On the Power and Primacy,” we read, that “the Popes defend godless rites and idolatry”; they had introduced horrible darkness into the Church. “The marks of Antichrist agree with the empire of the Pope,” as is plain from Paul.[1470] “The Pope arrogates to himself the right to alter the doctrine of Christ.... He even claims rights over the souls of the departed.” “He makes himself God,” for he recognises no authority above him. “These errors he vindicates with the utmost cruelty ... slaying all who differ from him.” All the faithful must therefore “curse” him and regard his teaching as “devils’ doctrine.”

After this profession of pure doctrine comes the chapter on abuses.[1471] “The profanation of Masses,” amongst the Papists, “is idolatry”; the “most revolting money-making” is carried on by this means. “They teach that sin is forgiven on account of the value of our works and then require each one to be ever in doubt as to whether his sins have really been forgiven. Nowhere do they clearly say that it is on account of the merits of Christ that sins are forgiven gratuitously. On the other hand, they do away with true worship, viz. the exercise of that faith which wrestles with despair.”[1472] “Vows they have stamped as righteousness before God, declaring that they merit the forgiveness of sins.” It is the duty of the Christian Princes to intervene; they must see that “errors are removed and consciences healed.” They “must not assist in strengthening idolatry and other infamies, or in slaughtering the Saints.” They, beyond all others, “must place a check on the licentiousness of the Popes,” the more so “since the Pope has bound the bishops under terrible curses to support his tyranny and his godless behaviour.”

A shorter memorandum of Melanchthon’s, appended to the above, referred to the “Power and jurisdiction of the Bishops.”[1473] This in the clearest and most decided fashion marks the breakdown of all the author’s earlier seeming concessions concerning the retention of the episcopate. “Since the bishops,” he says towards the close, “in their dependence on the Pope defend his godless doctrine and godless worship ... second the Pope’s cruelty and tyrannically abuse the jurisdiction they have wrenched from the clergy ... the churches must not acknowledge them as bishops.”

At the end there is a hint at the wealth of the bishops, doubtless not unwelcome to the Princes: “The bishops can no longer hold their lands and revenues with a good conscience” because they do not make use of them for the good of souls; their possessions ought rather to be employed “for the Church,” “to provide for the preachers [ministers], to support students and the poor, and in particular to assist the law-courts, especially the matrimonial courts.” Here we have his sanction to the Church’s spoliation.

We may be certain that Melanchthon never came to use such language, so similar to Luther’s, concerning the Papal Antichrist, idolatry and murder, solely as the result of pressure on the part of the Princes, who had been enraged by the invitation to attend the Council, and were determined to crush once and for all every hope of conciliation. We may take it that his new frame of mind was partly due to Luther’s serious illness. Luther believed that his end was nigh, he adjured the Princes and his friends manfully to tackle Antichrist, and he cursed the dissensions that had broken out amongst his theologians, and promised soon to ruin his life’s work. This made a great impression on Melanchthon. As a matter of fact the relations between him and Luther, subsequent to the latter’s recovery, became closer than they had been for years.

The change in Melanchthon at Schmalkalden was immortalised by his frightful document on the Pope and the Bishops being subscribed to by thirty-two of the theologians and preachers there present.[1474] When, at a later date, the formulÆ of Concord were drawn up, it was included amongst the “symbolical books” of Lutheranism.[1475] As such, along with the others, it appears down to the present day, even in the latest edition (1907), at the head of which is printed the traditional motto of the whole series: “One Lord, one faith, one Baptism” (Eph. iv. 5).

At the Schmalkalden Conference, Melanchthon, in spite of what he had written concerning the Pope, declared himself, like Luther, in favour of accepting with due reserves the invitation to the Council, as otherwise they would be rendering their position more difficult and would make the whole world think that they had rudely refused the olive-branch. The rejection of his proposal annoyed him, as also did the discourteous treatment—described by Melanchthon as “very vulgar”—which the Papal Legate endured at the hands of the Elector Johann Frederick. His fit of indignation does not, however, seem to have lasted long, as he did not refuse the invitation to draw up a statement, addressed in the name of the Assembly to all Christian Princes, in which the Council was repudiated in the strongest terms. The refusal to take any part in it, so it declares, was rendered imperative by the clear intention of the Pope to suppress heresy.[1476]

His hostility and his irritation against, the Papacy repeatedly found expression in after years.

It was quite in Luther’s style, when, in a little work which appeared at Wittenberg in 1539, he called the Pope, with his bishops and defenders, “the tyrants and persecutors of Christ,” who “are not the Church; neither are those who support them or approve such acts of violence.”[1477]

Before the War of Schmalkalden he republished several times Luther’s inflammatory pamphlet, “Warnunge an seine lieben Deudschen,” of 1531 (see vol. ii., p. 391), in order to move public opinion against the Empire. To these new editions of the booklet against the Popish “bloodhounds”[1478]—one of the most violent the author ever wrote—Melanchthon added a preface in which he shows himself “animated and carried away by Luther’s words.”[1479] In reading it we feel the warmth of the fiery spirit which glows in Luther’s writings, for instance, when he classes his opponents with the “cut-throats of the streets,” whom “to resist was a work well-pleasing to God.”[1480] The Pope, according to him, is anxious “to re-establish his idolatry and his errors by dint of bloodshed, murder, everlasting devastation of the German nation and the destruction of the Electoral and Princely houses.” Thus “Spaniards and Italians, and perhaps even possibly the Turks,” will break into the German cities. “The devils rage and cause all manner of desolation.” Our enemies are “knowingly persecutors of the truth and murderers of the Saints.” Whoever is about to die let him consider, that the death of the righteous is more pleasing to God than “the life of Cain and the luxury and power of all the bishops and cardinals.”

Hence it was but natural that violent measures of defence should appear to Melanchthon both called-for and meritorious.

As a just measure of defence and resistance he regarded his own suggestion made to the Elector of Saxony through his Chancellor on the occasion of the Protestantising of the town of Halle, the residence of Albert of Brandenburg, viz. that Albert’s whole diocese of Halle and Magdeburg should be taken possession of by the Elector. Owing to Luther’s dissuasion this act of violence, which would have had momentous consequences, was, however, prevented. Melanchthon’s advice was, that they “should, as opportunity arose, seize the bishoprics, in order that the priests might be emboldened to abstain from knavish practices, to co-operate in bringing about a lasting peace, and to leave the Word of God unmolested for the future.”[1481]

In this way Melanchthon more than once gave the lie to those who extol his kindliness. Luther once said, that, whereas he stabbed with a hog-spear, Philip preferred to use goads and needles, though his little punctures turned out more painful and difficult to heal; the “little man” (Melanchthon was of small stature) was pious, and, even when he did wrong, meant no ill; he sinned because he was too lenient and allowed himself to be taken in; but this sort of thing was of little use; he, on the other hand, thought it best to speak out to the knaves; for clods a pick-axe was very useful; Philip allowed himself to be devoured, but he, on the contrary, devoured everything and spared no one.[1482]

In his controversial writings and memoranda, written in well-turned and polished language, Melanchthon went on as before to accuse the Catholic theologians and the Popes of holding doctrines and opinions, of which, as DÖllinger rightly said, “no theologian had ever thought, but the opposite of which all had taught.”[1483]

He refused to recognise what was good and just in the long-looked-for proposals for the amelioration of the Church which the Papal commission submitted to Paul III. in 1537. They were made known at Wittenberg through their publication by Johann Sturm of Strasburg.

Luther at once took the field against them with his favourite weapons, the “pick-axe” and the “hog-spear.”[1484] Melanchthon mentions them, but has “not a word to say in favour of the important reforms they proposed.... The fact, however, that one of Erasmus’s writings was therein characterised as harmful, incensed him against Sadolet [one of the Cardinals whose signatures were appended].” “With good reason, and, from the schoolmaster’s point of view, quite justly,”[1485] they say of the “Colloquia familiaria” of Erasmus, that “this book should be forbidden in the schools,” as it might do harm to young minds.[1486] This greatly displeased Melanchthon, himself a writer on pedagogy;[1487] and yet the “Colloquia” in question are so permeated with indecent elements that they have been rightly instanced to prove how lax were the views then prevalent in Humanistic circles.[1488] Luther himself strongly disapproved of the “Colloquia” of Erasmus, declaring it a godless book, and forbidding his children to read it; therein the author put his own antichristian ideas in the mouths of others.[1489] “Erasmus, the scoundrel,” he says, gives vent to his contempt for religion “more particularly in his ‘Colloquia.’”[1490] “He is an incarnate scamp, as is shown by his books, notably by the ‘Colloquia.’”[1491]

In the Antinomian controversy at home, between Johann Agricola and Luther, it was Melanchthon who sought by means of adroit formulÆ and memoranda to achieve the impossible, viz. to square Agricola’s views with Luther’s teaching at that time. In reality Melanchthon was merely working for the success of his own milder version of Luther’s view of the law, to which moreover the latter had already given his assent. To Agricola, Melanchthon wrote feelingly: “In all that Luther does there is a certain Achillean violence, of which you are not the only victim.”[1492]

On the outbreak of the Osiander controversy on Confession, the ever-ready Melanchthon again set to work, endeavouring to pour oil on the troubled waters. He assured Osiander that “were I able to bind down with chains of adamant the tempers of all the clergy, I should assuredly make this the goal of my most earnest endeavour.”[1493]

Melanchthon’s 1540 edition of the Augsburg Confession, the so-called “Confessio variata,” was a good sample of his elasticity and power of adaptation in the domain of dogma. The “Variata” caused, however, quite a commotion amongst the representatives of the innovations.

In the “Confessio Variata” Melanchthon, in order to curry favour with the Swiss and the adherents of the Tetrapolitana, with whom his party was politically leagued, set aside the “semblance of Transubstantiation” contained in the Article concerning the Supper (Art. x.) and struck out the words “quod corpus et sanguis Christi vere adsint,” as well as the rejection of the contrary belief. For these was substituted: “Together with the bread and wine in the Supper the communicants are shown [’exhibeantur’ instead of the former ‘adsint et distribuantur’] the Body and Blood of Christ.” This was practically to abandon the Real Presence. “Neither the doctrine of Bucer [who was a Zwinglian] on the Supper, nor that of Calvin, is excluded.”[1494]

At a later date, in 1575, Nicholas Selnecker, a Leipzig professor, whilst actual witnesses were yet living, declared that he had been informed by officials of high standing that the alterations concerning the Supper in the “Variata” were due to Philip of Hesse’s epistolary representations to Melanchthon. The former had held out the hope that he, and also the Swiss, would accept the Confession should his suggestion be accepted.[1495] We may call to mind that about that same time, i.e. about December, 1539, the Landgrave was desirous of yet another concession in his favour, viz. of sanction for his bigamy, and that Bucer, who had been sent by him to Wittenberg, threw out the hint that, were permission refused, the Prince would forsake the Evangelical cause.

Melanchthon also obliterated in the “Variata” several other “traces of a too diplomatic attempt to conciliate the Romanists.... Melanchthon’s clearer perception of the doctrine of Justification also made some alteration necessary.” The Article “De iustificatione” (Art. iv.) was accordingly revised, and likewise the Article “De bonis operibus” (Art. xx.), that both might correspond with the doctrine already embodied in the 1535 edition of the “Loci.” In Article iv. the brief “hanc fidem imputat Deus pro iustitia” was removed and replaced by: “homines iustos pronuntiari, id est reconciliari,” by the imputation of righteousness, this being explained at considerable length. A new interpretation was also given to the doctrine of good works, i.e. by the thesis, that obedience to the law is necessary on the part of the justified.[1496] In conversion, the necessity of contrition, and that not merely passive, previous to Justification by faith is asserted, the Divine Will that all men be saved is openly advocated, that God is the author of sin is more strongly denied than before.[1497]

In spite of all these alterations, which, more particularly that concerning the Supper, might have wounded Luther’s susceptibilities, “Melanchthon was never reproved on account of the ‘Variata’ either by Luther or by others [of the sect]; what we hear to the contrary is nothing but an invention of the anti-Philippians. The truth is that the ‘Variata’ was generally accepted without question and made use of officially, for instance, at the religious conferences.”[1498] In January, 1541, the Augsburg Confession was to be made the basis of the first religious conference at Worms. When Melanchthon appealed to the “Variata,” Eck drew particular attention to the difference between the new and the old version. Melanchthon, however, insisted on the identity of their contents and would only admit that, in the “Variata,” he had toned down and chosen his expressions more carefully.[1499] As Eck, in order to come to the point, desisted from any further objections, the diversity was passed over. The conference, owing to other causes, was a failure, and so was the next, held at Ratisbon in April of the same year, which was fruitless owing to Melanchthon’s own conduct. Calvin, who was present, wrote on May 12 of the practices of the Protestant leaders: “Melanchthon and Bucer drew up equivocating and ambiguous formulÆ on Transubstantiation, seeking to hoodwink their adversaries. They were not afraid to deal in equivocal phrases though there is nothing more mischievous.”[1500]

In connection with the eventual fate of the “Variata” we may here refer to the deep animosity which the more zealous Lutherans, with Flacius Illyricus at their head, displayed towards Melanchthon on account of the alterations in the Augsburg Confession. So serious did the rupture become that the dissension between the Protestant theologians actually rendered impossible any public negotiations with the Catholics. This fact proves how little Melanchthon, the then leader of the Protestants, had been successful in welding together with “chains of adamant” the theologians of his party.

The standpoint of the amended Confession of 1540, however, enlisted all Bucer’s sympathies on Melanchthon’s behalf.

With Bucer’s smooth ways Melanchthon had already found himself in harmony during the negotiations in view of the Wittenberg Concord. Mentally the two had much in common. Melanchthon had worked with Bucer at Bonn in 1543, making use of every kind of theological artifice and enlisting the service of those who were in revolt against the moral laws of the Church, in order to bring about the apostasy of Cologne, though their efforts were fruitless. Want of success here was, however, not due to any half-measures on Melanchthon’s part, for the latter repeatedly spoke against any toleration being shown to the ancient “errors.” In his reply to Eberhard Billick he attacked, for instance, the “idolatry” which prevailed in the Rhineland, witnessed to by the invocation of Saints, the veneration of images, the Sacrifice of the Mass, and the Processions of the Sacrament.[1501]

By this attack on the citadel of Catholicism in the Rhine Province he again reaped a harvest of trouble and anxiety, in consequence of his and Bucer’s differences with Luther on the doctrine of the Supper.

In the text of the “Cologne Book of Reform,” composed by both, Luther failed to find expressed his doctrine of the Presence of Christ, but rather the opposite. For this reason an outbreak on his part was to be feared, and Melanchthon trembled with anxiety, since, as he says in one of his letters,[1502] Luther had already begun to “stir up strife” in his sermons. He fully expected to have to go into exile. It was said that Luther was preparing a profession of faith which all his followers would have to sign. But, this time again, Melanchthon was spared, though Bucer was not so fortunate; in Luther’s furious writing against the deniers of the Sacrament, the latter was pilloried, but not Melanchthon.[1503] Outwardly Luther and Melanchthon remained friends. In the Swiss camp they were well aware of the difficulties of the scholar who refused to place himself blindly under the spell of Luther’s opinions. Bullinger, Zwingli’s successor at ZÜrich, invited him to come there and promised to see that the magistrates provided him with a suitable stipend. Calvin declared later, in 1560, that Melanchthon had several times told him sorrowfully, that he would much rather live in Geneva than in Wittenberg.[1504] Concerning Melanchthon’s views on the Eucharist, Calvin said: “I can assure you a hundred times over, that to make out Philip to be at variance with me on this doctrine is like tearing him away from his own self.”[1505] This explains why Melanchthon always sought to evade the theological question as to how Christ is present in the Sacrament.

One of the last important works he carried out with Luther was the so-called “Wittenberg Reformation,” a writing drawn up at the Elector’s request. The document, which was presented by Luther and the Wittenberg theologians on January 14, 1545, was intended, in view of the anticipated Diet, to express theologically the position of the Reformers with regard to a “Christian Settlement.” Here Melanchthon found himself in his own element. In this work he distinguished himself, particularly by his cleverly contrived attempts to make out the new doctrine to be that of the old and real Church Catholic, by his stern aversion to Popish “idolatry” and by his repudiation of anything that might be regarded as a concession, also by the unfeasible proposal he made out of mockery, that the bishops, in order to make it possible for the Protestants to join their congregations, should “begin by introducing the pure evangelical doctrine and Christian distribution of the Sacraments,” in which case Protestants would obey them.[1506]

The Wittenbergers, in other words, offered to recognise the episcopate under the old condition, upon which they were ever harping, though well aware that it was impossible for the bishops to accept it.[1507]

They thus showed plainly how much store was to be set on the tolerance of certain externals promised by the wily Melanchthon. In this document he “retained certain outward forms to which the people were accustomed, proposing, however, to render them innocuous by imbuing them with a new spirit, and to use them as means of religious and moral education in the interests of the Evangelical cause. It was in the same sense that he was ready to recognise the episcopate.”[1508] In reality it was the merest irony to demand, that all the bishops of Christendom should prepare the way for and welcome the innovations. Such was, however, the spirit and tone of Melanchthon’s “very mild reform,” as BrÜck the Chancellor described it to the Elector. Luther, however, in order as it were to furnish a commentary on its real sense, at that very time put his pen to his last and most revolting work against the Papacy.[1509]

END OF VOL. III

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