Collected Works of Martin Luther

by Martin Luther

  In fairness, however, all the means by which the delay of the negotiations was brought about must not be laid to Luther’s charge, and to his intentional misrepresentations. It is more probable that he frequently assumed an attitude of indecision because, to his excited mind, the stress of unforeseen events, which affected him personally, seemed to justify his use of so strange an expedient. Be this as it may, we must make a distinction between his actions at the various periods of his agitated life; the further his tragic history approaches the complete and open breach which was the result of his excommunication, the less claim to belief have his assurances of peace, whereas his earlier protestations may at least sometimes be accorded the benefit of a doubt.

  To the assurances dating from the earlier stage belong in the first place those made to his Ordinary, Hieronymus Scultetus, Bishop of Brandenburg. To him on May 22, 1518, he forwarded, together with a flattering letter, a copy of his “Resolutions,” in order that they might be examined.

  “New dogmas,” he states, have just recently been preached regarding indulgences; urged by some who had been annoyed by them to give a strong denial of such doctrines, but being at the same time desirous of sparing the good reputation of the preachers — for upon it their work depended — he had decided to deal with the matter in a purely disputatory form, the more so as it was a difficult one, however untenable the position of his opponents might be; scholastics and canonists could be trusted only when they quoted arguments in defence of their teaching, more particularly from Holy Scripture. No one had, however, answered his challenge or ventured to meet him at a disputation. The Theses, on the other hand, had been bruited abroad beyond his expectations, and were also being regarded as actual truths which he had advocated. “Contrary to his hopes and wishes,” he had therefore been obliged, “as a child and ignoramus in theology,” to explain himself further (in the Resolutions). He did not, however, wish obstinately to insist upon anything contained in the latter, much being problematic, yea, even false. He laid everything he had said at the feet of Holy Church and his Bishop; he might strike out what he pleased, or consign the entire scribble to the flames. “I know well that Christ has no need of me; He proclaims salvation to the Church without me, and least of all does He stand in need of great sinners.... My timidity would have kept me for ever in my quiet corner had not the presumption and unwisdom of those who invent new gospels been carried so far.”

  When Bishop Scultetus thereupon declared himself against the publication of the Resolutions, Luther promised to obey; he even made this known to those about the Elector, through Spalatin the Court-preacher. On August 21, 1518, the work nevertheless appeared. Had Luther really been “released” from his promise, as has been assumed by one writer in default of any better explanation?

  Let us consider more closely Luther’s letter to Pope Leo X, which has already been referred to cursorily (vol. i., ). As is well known, it accompanied the copy of the Resolutions which, with singular daring, and regardless of the challenge involved in their errors, he had dedicated to the Supreme Teacher of Christendom. Luther had lavished flattery on his Bishop, but here he surpasses himself in expressions of cringing humility.

  He prostrates himself at the feet of the Pope with all that he has and is; it is for His Holiness to make him alive, or kill him, to summon or dismiss, approve or reprove, according to his good pleasure; his voice he will acknowledge as the voice of Christ, and willingly die should he be deserving of death. He is “unlearned, stupid and ignorant in this our enlightened age,” nothing but dire necessity compels him, so he says, “to cackle like a goose among the swans.” “The most impious and heretical doctrines” of the indulgence preachers have called him forth as the defender of truth, indeed of the Papal dignity which is being undermined by avaricious money-makers; by means of the Disputation he had merely sought to learn from his brothers, and was never more surprised than at the way in which the Theses had become known, whereas this had not been the case with his other Disputations. Retract he cannot; he has, however, written the Resolutions in his justification, from which all may learn how honestly and openly he is devoted to the Power of the Keys. The publication of the Resolutions “under the shield of the Papal name and the shadow of the Pope’s protection [Luther is here alluding to the dedication] renders his safety assured.”

  As a matter of fact, the principal result of the dedication to the Pope was a wider dissemination of the work among the learned, Luther’s Bishop, the weak and uninformed Scultetus of Brandenburg, being likewise hindered from taking any action against his unruly subject. The move, if it really was intentional, had been well thought out.

  After a lengthy delay Luther, in accordance with his promise to Miltitz, drafted a second letter to Pope Leo X, on January 5 or 6, 1519.

  He, “the off-scouring of humanity, and a mere speck of dust,” here declares, as he had done shortly before at Augsburg, that he cannot retract; since his writings are already so widely known and have met with so much support, a retractation would, he says, be useless, and indeed rather injure the reputation of Rome among the learned in Germany. He would never have believed, so he says, that his efforts for the honour of the Apostolic See could have led to his incurring the suspicion of the Pope; he will, nevertheless, be silent in future on the question of indulgences, if silence is also imposed upon his opponents; indeed, he will publish “a work which shall make all see that they must hold the Roman Church in honour, and not lay the foolishness of his opponents to her charge, nor imitate his own slashing language against the Church of Rome,” for he is “absolutely convinced that her power is above everything, and that nothing in Heaven or on earth is to be preferred to her, excepting only our Lord Jesus Christ.” This letter was not sent off, probably because it occasioned Miltitz some scruples. In any case, it is a document of considerable interest.

  Luther assumes an entirely different tone in the historic third and last letter to Leo X, with which, in 1520, he prefaced his work “Von der Freyheyt eynes Christen Menschen”; this letter was really written after October 13 of that same year.

  The very date of the letter has a history. It was published by Luther in Latin and German, with the fictitious date of September 6. The questionable expedient of ante-dating this letter had been adopted by Luther to satisfy the diplomatist Miltitz, and was due to the necessity of taking into account the Papal Bull condemning Luther, which had already been published on September 21, 1520; thereby it was hoped to avoid all appearance of this letter having been wrung from Luther by the publication of the Bull. This was what Miltitz wrote at a time when he still entertained sanguine hopes of what the letter might achieve in the interests of the Pope and peace. Luther, for his part, looked on the antedated letter as a manifesto which might considerably weaken, and to his advantage, the effect of the Bull on public opinion. The vehement blame therein contained regarding the corruption of the Roman Church ought surely to lessen the authority of the excommunication, while the loud appreciation of the person and good qualities of Leo would naturally cause the author of the excommunication (supposing it to have been published subsequently to the letter) to appear either ungrateful, or misled by others.

  The Roman Church, in the words of this letter, has become the “most horrible Sodom and Babylon,” a “den of murderers worse than any other, a haunt of iniquity surpassing all others, the head and empire of sin, of death and of damnation, so that it would be impossible to imagine any increase in her wickedness even were Antichrist to come in person. Yet you, Holy Father Leo, are seated like a sheep among the wolves, like a Daniel amidst the lions”; Pope Leo, the author goes on to assert with unblushing effrontery, is much to be pitied, for it is the hardest lot of all that a man of his disposition should have to live in the midst of such things; Leo would do well to abdicate. He himself (Luther) had never undertaken any evil against his person; indeed, he only wished him well, and, so far as lay in him, had attempted to assist him and the Roman Church with all his might by diligent, hea
rtfelt prayer. But “with the Roman See all is over; God’s endless wrath has come upon it; this See is opposed to General Councils, and will not permit itself to be reformed; let this Babylon then rush headlong to its own destruction!”

  After this follow renewed protestations of his peaceableness throughout the whole struggle from the very beginning, attempts to justify the strong language he had later on used against thick-headed and irreligious adversaries, for which he deserved the “favour and thanks” of the Pope, and descriptions of the wiles of Eck who, at the Leipzig disputation, had picked up some “insignificant chance expression concerning the Papacy” so as to ruin him at Rome. This, of course, was all intended to weaken the impression of the excommunication on the public. Another bold assertion of his, of which the object was the same, ran: “That I should retract what I have taught is out of the question ... I will not suffer any check or bridle to be placed on the Word of God which teaches entire freedom, and neither can nor may be bound.” “I am ready to yield to every man in all things, but the Word of God I cannot and will not forsake or betray.”

  Luther also approached the Emperor Charles V in a letter addressed to him at the time when Rome was about to take action. He begged the Emperor to protect him, entirely innocent as he was, against the machinations of his enemies, especially as he had been dragged into the struggle against his will. The letter was written August 30, 1520, and safely reached the Emperor, possibly through the good offices of Sickingen; when it was again submitted at the Diet of Worms such was Charles’s indignation that he tore the missive to pieces.

  In order rightly to appreciate its contents we must keep in mind that Luther had it printed and published in a Latin version in 1520, together with an “Oblation or Protestation” to readers of every tongue, wherein he offers them on the title-page his “unworthy prayers,” and assures them of his humble submission to the Holy Catholic Church, as whose devoted son he was determined to live and die. Nevertheless, at the end of August part of his work “On the Babylonian Captivity of the Church” already stood in print, in which, at the very commencement, the Papacy is declared to be the Kingdom of Babylon and the empire of Nimrod, the mighty hunter, and in which, as a matter of fact, an end is made of the whole hierarchy and Church visible.

  Luther’s Prince, the Elector Frederick, had grave misgivings concerning the hot-headed agitator who had fixed his residence at the University of Wittenberg, though, hitherto, thanks to the influence of Spalatin, his Court Chaplain, he had extended to Luther his protection and clemency. Both the Emperor, who was altogether Catholic in his views, and the laws of the Empire, called for the greatest caution on his part; were the Church’s rights enforced as the imperial law allowed, then Luther was doomed. It was by the express advice of the Elector that Luther drew up the above-mentioned letter to Charles V and the pious “Protestation.” It was to these documents that the astute Elector appealed when, towards the end of August, he warned his agent at Rome, Teutleben, of the ostensibly dangerous disturbances which might result in Germany from any violent action against Luther unless he had been previously confuted by “strong and veracious proofs and statements clearly set forth in writing.” This letter too had Luther himself for its author, Spalatin having, as usual, acted as intermediary. Spalatin in fact received both documents from him beforehand for revision.

  After these few words regarding the object and origin of the celebrated letter to the Emperor, we may go on to quote some of the statements it contains. Luther, at the commencement, protests that he presents himself before Charles “like a flea before the King of kings, who reigns over all.” “It was against my will that I came before the public, I wrote only because others traitorously forced me to it by violence and cunning; never did I desire anything but to remain in the retirement of my cell. My conscience and the best men bear me witness that I have merely endeavoured to defend the truth of the Gospel against the opinions introduced by superstitious traditions. For three years I have, in consequence, been exposed to every kind of insult and danger. In vain did I beg for pardon, offer to be silent, propose conditions of peace, and request enlightenment. I am, nevertheless, persecuted, the sole object being to stamp out the Gospel along with me.”

  Things being thus, “prostrate before him,” he begs the Emperor to protect, not indeed one who lies “poor and helpless in the dust,” but, at least, the treasure of truth, since he, the greatest secular sovereign, has been entrusted with the temporal sword for the maintenance of truth and the restraint of wickedness; as for himself, he only desired to be called to account in a fair manner, and to see his teaching either properly refuted, or duly accepted by all. He was ready to betake himself to any public disputation, so he declares in the “Protestation,” and would submit to the decision of any unprejudiced University; he would present himself before any judges, saintly or otherwise, clerical or lay, provided only they were just, and that he was given state protection and a safe conduct. If they were able to convince him by proofs from Holy Scripture, he would become a humble pupil, and obediently relinquish an enterprise undertaken — this, at least, he would assert without undue self-exaltation — only for the honour of God, the salvation of souls and the good of Christianity, simply because he was a doctor, and without any hope of praise or profit.

  This manifesto was sufficient to satisfy the Elector Frederick. The growing esteem in which Luther was held and the delay in the settlement of his case served admirably Frederick’s purpose of making himself less dependent on the Emperor and Empire. Calculation and politics thus played their part in an affair which to some extent they shaped.

  At a later date, it is true, Luther asserted in the preface to his Latin works, that his success had been the result only of Heaven’s visible protection; that he had quietly “awaited the decision of the Church and the Holy Ghost”; only one thing, namely, the Catechism, he had been unable to see condemned by the interference of Rome; to deny Christ he could never consent. He was willing to confess his former weaknesses “in order that — to speak like Paul — men may not esteem me for something more than I am, but as a simple man.”

  From the pulpit, too, where honest truth usually finds expression, he declared that it was not violence or human effort or wisdom that had crowned his cause with the laurels of victory, but God alone: “I studied God’s Word and preached and wrote on it; beyond this I did nothing. The Word of God did much while I slept, or drank Wittenberg beer with my Philip [Melanchthon] and Amsdorf, so that Popery has been weakened and suffered more than from the attacks of any Prince or Emperor. I did nothing; everything was achieved and carried out by the Word.” His object here is to oppose the violence and fanaticism of the Anabaptists, and, if he points out to them that he has achieved his mighty work without force of arms, and that the great success of his movement was out of all proportion to the means he could employ as professor and preacher — the truth being that his success was chiefly due to the circumstances of the time — there is much in his contention.

  In the circle of his friends, at a later date, he thus expressed his conviction: “I did not begin the difficult business of my own initiative ... rather it was God who led me in a wonderful manner.... All happened in accordance with God’s will.” “I thought I was doing the Pope a service [by throwing light upon the question of Indulgences]; but I was forced to defend myself.” “Had I foreseen that things would turn out as, thank God, they have, I would have held my tongue; but had I kept silence it would have fared much worse with the Papacy; the Princes and the Powers, enraged at its usurpations, would finally have made an end of it.” “I acted with moderation and yet I have brought the Papacy to an evil day.”

  The genius of history could well hide its face were such statements accepted as reliable testimonies.

  Certain extracts from Luther’s correspondence with Spalatin deserve special consideration.

  The worldly-wise Chaplain of Frederick, the Saxon Elector, frequently gave Luther a hint as to how to proceed, and, in r
eturn, his Wittenberg friend was wont to speak to him more openly than to others. It is, however, necessary, in order to arrive at a right appreciation of this correspondence, to distinguish between the letters written by Luther to Spalatin as a personal friend and those he sent him with the intention that they should reach the ruling Prince. It would betray a great lack of critical discrimination were the whole correspondence with Spalatin taken as the expression of Luther’s innermost thought. The fact that Spalatin’s letters to Luther are no longer extant makes it even more difficult to understand Luther’s replies. Nevertheless, it is easy to trace a persistent effort throughout the correspondence, to secure in the Saxon Electorate toleration both for the new teaching and its originator without arousing the misgivings of a prudent sovereign. The Court had to be won over gradually and gently.

  Acting on Spalatin’s advice, Luther made the following declaration for the benefit of the Elector, on March 5, 1519: “The Roman Decrees must allow me full liberty with regard to the true Gospel; of whatever else they may rob me, I don’t care. What more can I do, or can I be bound to anything further?”

  “If they do not confute us on reasonable grounds and by written proofs,” he says, on July 10, 1520, in another letter addressed to Spalatin, but really intended for the Elector, “but proceed against us by force and censures, then things will become twice as bad in Germany as in Bohemia” [an allusion to the Husite apostasy]. “Where then can I turn for better instruction?” ... “Let His Highness the Prince,” he here writes, coming to the question of the University professorship which provided him with his means of livelihood, “put me out into the street so that I may either be better instructed or confuted.” He, for his part, is ready to resign his public appointment, retire into private life, allow others to take his place, and let all his belongings be burned. But he also thinks it just that the Elector, being personally unable to instruct him, should also refuse to act either as judge or as executioner until a (true ecclesiastical) sentence be pronounced. The principal thing is, so he says, that “the question under discussion has not been solved, and my enemies have not touched it with so much as a single word. The Prince, under these circumstances, may well refuse to punish anyone, even though he be a Turk or a Jew, for he is in ignorance whether he be guilty or not; his conscience bids him pause, and how then can the Romanists demand that he should step in and obey men rather than God?”