“Esset ut hÆc sanctÆ doctrinÆ strenue custos Condidit ad SalÆ pulcra fluenta scholam QuÆ tumidos docto confunderet ore sophistas, Nec sineret falsis dogmata vera premi, Sed quia mox Ætas mundi trahet Ægra ruinam, Pullulat errorum nunc numerosa seges, etc.” In the long discussion of Luther’s monastic days his later utterances are accepted implicitly without being submitted to criticism. Thus his account of his penitential martyrdom, by which he even “endangered his life,” is taken at its face value, and so is his testimony to his own saintliness. “Of any more evangelical conception of the road to salvation,” Luther heard nothing at Erfurt, indeed there was “no Christian preaching at all,” etc., etc. “In the convent he was left practically to himself.” “The lax standard by which his scholastic teachers judged of sin [the motions of concupiscence] did not alleviate what he had to endure,” viz. “the standard of the law.” In the theological lectures he heard nothing of “how, in the Man Christ, the Godhead descends to us”; on the contrary they led him to turn away in terror from the Master and Judge. It was a cause of deep grief to him that forgiveness was made “to depend on the worthiness and the works of the sinner himself,” etc., etc. The Church gave him no “insight into the meaning of the Mediatorship of Christ.” Even at Erfurt the Bible “had led him to see many errors in the Papal Church,” but the most important thing was that, by means of this same Bible he attained “by the gracious dispensation of God” to the “overthrow of all proud self-righteousness.” His flying for refuge simply to the merciful Love of God became the salvation of the quiet, laborious, struggling monk, whose destiny was to mould the world’s history (pp. 55, 60-66, 72, 75, 77 f.). According to KÖstlin Luther began “this attack on ecclesiastical abuses straightforwardly, conscientiously, with moderation and prudence” (1, 142). “At last he came forward from the ‘corner’ where he would gladly have remained and entered upon the struggle” (2, 626). During the struggle itself he was calm and peaceful, etc., “what would ensue he did not know, but committed it to Him Who sits on High” (1, 354). This grand tranquillity was permanent with him. “Of good courage, inwardly peaceful and confident, we see Luther (after his marriage) living his new life” (738). KÖstlin indeed repeatedly mentions his inward struggles, but, according to him, Luther conquers the burden of his temptations with “a bold faith” (2, 178). “He warns his followers against the belief that the Papacy was to be overthrown by the use of force” (1, 583). He also demands that no constraint should be used in the “purely interior domain of faith”; the heretics were to “be resisted only by the Word,” so long at least as they did not “outwardly manifest” their errors (1, 584), which, however, they nearly always did. Luther’s sovereign “merely looked on while the Word and the Spirit did the work” (1, 603). Luther never “imposed on him either the duty or the right to protect him and his work against Emperor and Empire.” “Never did he lend a hand to measures that might have been of advantage to the furtherance of the evangelical cause, but which would have militated against his principles” (2, 522). No trace of false enthusiasm dominates Luther, but rather a “conscientious sobriety”; the passion that urges him on is merely “fiery enthusiasm for the faith and his absolute confidence” (cp. 2, 517). “It is from the religious foundations on which his life is based that proceeds the freedom to which he has attained with regard to temporal things, his joyousness in using them and the calmness with which he renounces them and awaits what is better” (2, 512). “The faith with which he embraces God, holds intercourse with Him and seeks strength and victory through Him alone bears a character of childlike simplicity” (2, 513). It is a “bold faith,” a courageous faith, that animates him. “In heartfelt prayer lies for Luther all his strength” (2, 514). His “modesty as to his theological achievements” (2, 512) ought not to be overlooked. He had no fears as to the permanency of his Evangel. “That it was the Evangel of God for which he was working and that He would not let His Evangel fall to the ground, of this he was quite sure” etc. (2, 522). At the time of his death “true religious interests were once more paramount and Rome’s domination, till then all-powerful, was for ever shaken to its foundation” (2, 626). |