Chronicles of the Schonberg-Cotta Family

by Elizabeth Rundle Charles

  XXII.

  Else's Story.

  _October_, 1521.

  Christopher has just returned from a journey to Halle. They have daredonce more to establish the sale of indulgences there, under thepatronage of the young and self-indulgent Archbishop Albert of Mainz.Many of the students and the more thoughtful burghers are full ofindignation at seeing the great red cross once more set up, and theheavenly pardons hawked through the streets for sale. This would nothave been attempted, Gottfried feels sure, had not the enemy believedthat Dr. Luther's voice is silenced for ever. Letters from him are,however, privately handed about among us here, and more than one of usknow that he is in safe keeping not very far from us.

  _November_.

  Gottfried has just brought me the letter from Luther to the Archbishopof Mainz; which will at least convince the indulgence-mongers that theyhave roused the sleeping lion.

  He reminds the Archbishop-Elector that a conflagration has already beenraised by the protest of one poor insignificant monk against Tetzel; hewarns him that the God who gave strength to that feeble human voicebecause its spoke his truth, "is living still, and will bring down thelofty cedars and the haughty Pharoahs, and can easily humble an Electorof Mainz although there were four Emperors supporting him." He solemnlyrequires him to put down that avaricious sale of lying pardons at Mainz,or he will speedily publish a denunciation (which he has alreadywritten) against "The New School at Halle." "For Luther," he says, "isnot dead yet."

  We are in great doubt how the Archbishop will bear such a boldremonstrance.

  _November_ 20.

  The remonstrance has done its work. The Prince Archbishop has written ahumble and apologetic letter to Dr. Luther, and the indulgences are oncemore banished from Halle.

  At Wittemberg, however, Dr. Luther's letters do not at all compensatefor his absence. There is great confusion here, and not seldom there areencounters between the opposite parties in the streets.

  Almost all the monks in the Augustinian Convent refused some weeks sinceto celebrate private masses or to adore the host. The gentle Dr.Melancthon and the other doctors at first remonstrated, but were atlength themselves convinced, and appealed to the Elector of Saxonyhimself to abolish these idolatrous ceremonies. We do not yet know howhe will act. No public alterations have yet been made in the Churchservices.

  But the great event which is agitating Wittemberg now is the abandonmentof the cloister and the monastic life by thirteen of the Augustinianmonks. The Pastor Feldkirchen declared against priestly vows, andmarried some months since. But he was only a secular priest; and theopinions of all good men about the marriage of the priests of theparochial churches have long been undivided amongst us.

  Concerning the monks, however, it is different. For the priests to marryis merely a change of state; for the monks to abandon their vows is thedestruction of their order, and of the monastic life altogether.

  Gottfried and I are fully persuaded they are right; and we honourgreatly these men, who, disclaiming maintenance at other people'sexpense, are content to place themselves among the students at theuniversity. More especially, however, I honour the older or lesseducated brethren, who, relinquishing the consideration and idle plentyof the cloister, set themselves to learn some humble trade. One of thesehas apprenticed himself to a carpenter; and as we passed his bench theother day, and watched him perseveringly trying to train hisunaccustomed fingers to handle the tools, Gottfried took off his cap andrespectfully saluted him, saying,--

  "Yes, that is right. Christianity must begin again with the carpenter'shome at Nazareth."

  In our family, however, opinions are divided. Our dear, anxious motherperplexes herself much as to what it will all lead to. It is true thatFritz's second imprisonment has greatly shaken her faith in the monks;but she is distressed at the unsettling tendencies of the age. To her itseems all destructive; and the only solution she can imagine for thedifficulties of the times is, that these must be the latter days, andthat when everything is pulled down, our Lord himself will come speedilyto build up his kingdom in the right way.

  Deprived of the counsel of Fritz and her beloved Eva, and of Dr.Luther--in whom lately she had grown more to confide, although shealways deprecates his impetuosity of language--she cannot make up hermind what to think about anything. She has an especial dread of thevehemence of the Archdeacon Carlstadt; and the mild Melancthon is toomuch like herself in disposition for her to lean on his judgment.

  Nevertheless, this morning, when I went to see them, I found her busilypreparing some nourishing soup; which, when I asked her, she confessedwas destined for the recusant monk who had become a carpenter.

  "Poor creatures," she said apologetically, "they were accustomed to livewell in the cloister, and I should not like them to feel the differencetoo suddenly."

  Our grandmother is more than eighty now. Her form is still erect,although she seldom moves from her arm-chair; and her faculties seemlittle dimmed, except that she cannot attend to anything for any lengthof time. Sometimes I think old age to her is more like the tender daysof early spring, than hard and frosty winter. Thekla says it seems as ifthis life were dawning softly for her into a better; or as if God werekeeping her, like Moses, with undimmed eyes and strength unabated, tillshe may have the glimpse of the Promised Land, and see the deliveranceshe has so long waited for close at hand.

  With our children she is as great a favourite as she was with us; sheseems to have forgotten her old ways of finding fault; either becauseshe feels less responsibility about the third generation, or because shesees all their little faults through a mellowed light. I notice, too,that she has fallen on quite a different vein of stories from thosewhich used to rivet us. She seems to pass over the legendary lore of herearly womanhood, back to the experiences of her own stirring youth andchildhood. The mysteries of our grandfather's history, which we vainlysought to penetrate, are all opened to Gretchen and the boys. The saintsand hermits, whose adventures were our delight, are succeeded by storiesof secret Hussite meetings to read the Scriptures among the forests andmountains of Bohemia; of wild retreats in caves, where whole familieslived for months in concealment; of heart-rending captures or marvellousescapes.

  The heroes of my boys will be, not St. Christopher and St. George, butHussite heretics! My dear mother often throws in a warning word to theboys, that those were evil times, and that people do not need to leadsuch wild lives now. But the text makes far more impression on thechildren than the commentary.

  Our grandmother's own chief delight is still in Dr. Luther's writings. Ihave lately read over to her and my father, I know not how many times,his letter from the Wartburg, "to the little band of Christ atWittemberg," with his commentary accompanying it on the 37thPsalm--"Fret not thyself because of evildoers."

  Our dear father is full of the brightest visions. He is persuaded thatthe whole world is being rapidly set right, and that it matters little,indeed, that his inventions could not be completed, since we areadvancing at full speed into the Golden Age of humanity.

  Thus, from very opposite points and through very different paths, he andmy mother arrive at the same conclusion.

  We have heard from Thekla that Ulrich has visited Dr. Luther at theWartburg, where he is residing. I am so glad to know where he is. It isalways so difficult to me to think of people without knowing the scenearound them. The figure itself seems to become shadowy in the vague,shadowy, unknown world around it. It is this which adds to my distressabout Fritz. Now I can think of Dr. Luther sitting in that large room inwhich I waited for the Elector with my embroidery, so many yearsago--looking down the steep over the folded hills, reaching one behindanother till the black pines and the green waving branches fade intolovely blue beneath the golden horizon. And at sunset I seem to see howthe shadows creep over the green valleys where we used to play, and thelow sun lights up the red stems of t
he pines.

  Or in the summer noon I see him sitting with his books--great folios,Greek, and Hebrew, and Latin--toiling at that translation of the Book ofGod, which is to be the blessing of all our people; while the warmsunbeams draw out the aromatic scent of the fir-woods, and the breezesbring it in at the open window.

  Or at early morning I fancy him standing by the castle walls, lookingdown on the towers and distant roofs of Eisenach, while the bell of thegreat convent booms up to him the hour; and he thinks of the busy lifebeginning in the streets, where once he begged for bread at Aunt UrsulaCotta's door. Dear Aunt Ursula, I wish she could have lived till now, tosee the rich harvest an act of loving-kindness will sometimes bringforth.

  Or at night, again, when all sounds are hushed except the murmur of theunseen stream in the valley below, and the sighing of the wind throughthe forest, and that great battle begins which he has to fight so oftenwith the powers of darkness, and he tries to pray, and cannot lift hisheart to God, I picture him opening his casement, and looking down onforest, rook, and meadow, lying dim and lifeless beneath him, glancefrom these up to God, and re-assure himself with the truth he delightsto utter--

  "_God lives still!_" feeling, as he gazes, that night is only hiding thesun, not quenching him, and watching till the grey of morning slowlysteals up the sky and down into the forest.

  Yes, Dr. Melancthon has told us how he toils and how he suffers at the

  Wartburg, and how once he wrote, "Are my friends forgetting to pray forme, that the conflict is so terrible?" No; Gottfried remembers himalways among our dearest names of kith and kindred.

  "But," he said to-day, "we must leave the training of our chief to God."

  Poor, tried, perplexed Saint Elizabeth! another royal heart is sufferingat the Wartburg now, another saint is earning his crown through thecross at the old castle home; but not to be canonized in the PapalCalendar!

  _December_ 21.

  The chapter of the Augustinian Order in Thuringia and Misnia has methere within this last month, to consider the question of the irrevocablenature of monastic vows. They have come to the decision that in Christthere is neither layman nor monk; that each is free to follow hisconscience.

  _Christmas Day_, 1521.

  This has been a great day with us.

  Archdeacon Carlstadt announced, some little time since, that heintended, on the approaching Feast of the Circumcision, to administerthe holy sacrament to the laity under the two species of bread and wine.His right to do this having been disputed, he hastened theaccomplishment of his purpose, lest it should be stopped by anyprohibition from the court.

  To-day, after his sermon in the City Church, in which he spoke of thenecessity of replacing the idolatrous sacrifice of the mass by the holysupper, he went to the altar, and, after pronouncing the consecration ofthe elements in German, he turned towards the people, and saidsolemnly,--

  "Whosoever feels heavy laden with the burden of his sins, and hungersand thirsts for the grace of God, let him come and receive the body andblood of the Lord."

  A brief silence followed his words, and then, to my amazement, beforeany one else stirred, I saw my timid, retiring mother slowly moving upthe aisle, leading my father by the hand. Others followed; some withreverent, solemn demeanour, others perhaps with a little haste andover-eagerness. And as the last had retired from the altar, thearchdeacon, pronouncing the general absolution, added solemnly,--

  "Go, and sin no more."

  A few moments' pause succeeded, and then, from many voices here andthere, gradually swelling to a full chorus, arose the Agnus Dei,--

  "Lamb of God, who takest away the sin of the world, have mercy on us.Give us peace."

  We spent the Christmas, as usual, in my father's house. Wondering, as Idid, at my mother's boldness, I did not like to speak to her on thesubject; but, as we sat alone in the afternoon, while our dear father,Gottfried, Christopher and the children had gone to see the skating onthe Elbe, she said to me,--

  "Else, I could not help going. It seemed like the voice of our Lordhimself saying to me, '_Thou_ art heavy laden-come!' I never understoodit all as I do now. It seemed as if I _saw_ the gospel with myeyes,--saw that the redemption is finished, and that now the feast isspread. I forgot to question whether I repented, or believed, or lovedenough. I saw through the ages the body broken and the blood shed for meon Calvary; and now I saw the table spread, and heard the welcome, and Icould not help taking your father's hand and going up at once."

  "Yes, dear mother, you set the whole congregation the best example!" Isaid.

  "I!" she exclaimed. "Do you mean that I went up before any one else?What! before all the holy men, and doctors, and the people in authority?Else, my child, what have I done? But I did not think of myself, or ofany one else. I only seemed to hear His voice calling me; and what couldI do but go? And, indeed, I cannot care now how it looked! Oh, Else,"she continued, "it is worth while to have the world thus agitated torestore this feast again to the Church; worth while," she added with atrembling voice, "even to have Fritz in prison for this. The blessedLord has sacrificed himself for us, and we are living in the festival.He died for sinners. He spread the feast for the hungry and thirsty.Then those who feel their sins most must be not the last but the firstto come. I see it all now. That holy sacrament is the gospel for me."

  _February_ 10, 1522.

  The whole town is in commotion.

  Men have appeared among us who say that they are directly inspired fromheaven; that study is quite unnecessary--indeed, an idolatrousconcession to the flesh and the letter; that it is wasting time andstrength to translate the Holy Scriptures, since, without theirunderstanding a word of Greek or Hebrew, God has revealed its meaning totheir hearts.

  These men come from Zwickau. Two of them are cloth-weavers; and one isMuenzer, who was a priest. They also declare themselves to be prophets.Nicholas Storck, a weaver, their leader, has chosen twelve apostles andseventy-two disciples, in imitation of our Lord. And one of them criedin awful tones, to-day through the streets,--

  "Woe, woe to the impious governers of Christendom! Within less thenseven years the world shall be made desolate. The Turk will overrun theland. No sinner shall remain alive. God will purify the earth by blood,and all the priests will be put to death. The saints will reign. The dayof the Lord is at hand. Woe! woe!"

  Opinions are divided throughout the university and the town about them.The Elector himself says he would rather yield up his crown and gothrough the world a beggar than resist the voice of the Lord. Dr.Melancthon hesitated, and says we must try the spirits whether they beof God. The Archdeacon Carlstadt is much impressed with them, and fromhis professorial chair even exhorts the students to abandon the vainpursuits of carnal wisdom, and to return to earn their bread, accordingto God's ordinance, in the sweat of their brow. The master of the boys'school called, from the open window of the school-room, to the citizensto take back their children. Not a few of the students are dispersing,and others are in an excitable state, ready for any tumult. The imageshave been violently torn from one of the churches and burnt. The monksof the Convent of the Cordeliers have called the soldiers to their aidagainst a threatened attack.

  Gottfried and others are persuaded that these men of Zwickau are deludedenthusiasts. He says, "The spirit which undervalues the word of Godcannot be the Spirit of God."

  But among the firmest opponents of these new doctrines is, to oursurprise, our charitable mother. Her gentle, lowly spirit seems toshrink from them as with a heavenly instinct. She says, "The Spirit ofGod humbles--does not puff up."

  When it was reported to us the other day that Nicholas Storck had seenthe angel Gabriel in the night, who flew towards him and said to him,"As for thee, thou shalt be seated on my throne!" the mother said,--

  "It is new language to the angel Gabriel, to speak of _his_ throne. Theangels in old times us
ed to speak of the throne of God."

  And when another said that it was time to sift the chaff from the wheat,and to form a Church of none but saints, she said,--

  "That would never suit me then. I must stay outside, in the Church ofredeemed sinners. And did not St. Paul himself say, as Dr. Luther toldus, 'Sinners, of whom I am chief?'"

  "But are you not afraid," some one asked her, "of dishonouring God bydenying his messengers, if, after all, these prophets should be sentfrom him?"

  "I think not," she replied quietly. "Until the doctors are sure, I thinkI cannot displease my Saviour by keeping to the old message."

  My father, however, is much excited about it; he sees no reason whythere should not be prophets at Wittemberg as well as at Jerusalem; andin these wonderful days, he argues, what wonders can be too great tobelieve?

  I and many others long exceedingly for Dr. Luther. I believe, indeed,Gottfried is right, but it would be terrible to make a mistake; and Dr.Luther always seems to see straight to the heart of a thing at once, andstorms the citadel, while Dr. Melancthon is going round and round,studying each point of the fortifications.

  Dr. Luther never wavers in opinion in his letters, but warns us mostforcibly against these delusions of Satan. But then people say he hasnot seen or heard the "prophets." One letter can be discussed andanswered long before another comes, and the living eye and voice aremuch in such a conflict as this.

  What chief could lead an army on to battle by letters?

  _February_ 26, 1522.

  Our dove of peace has come back to our home; our Eva! This evening, whenI went over with a message to my mother, to my amazement I saw hersitting with her hand in my father's, quietly reading to him thetwenty-third psalm, while my grandmother sat listening, and my motherwas contentedly knitting beside them.

  It seemed as if she had scarcely been absent a day, so quietly had sheglided into her old place. It seemed so natural, and yet so like adream, that the sense of wonder passed from me as it does in dreams, andI went up to her and kissed her forehead.

  "Dear Cousin Else, is it you!" she said. "I intended to have come to youthe first thing to-morrow."

  The dear, peaceful, musical voice, what a calm it shed over the homeagain!

  "You see you have all left Aunt Cotta," she said, with a slighttremulousness in her tone, "so I am come back to be with her always, ifshe will let me."

  There were never any protestations of affection between my mother andEva, they understand each other so completely.

  _February_ 28.

  Yes, it is no dream. Eva has left the convent, and is one of us oncemore. Now that she has resumed all her old ways, I wonder more than everhow we could have got on without her. She speaks as quietly of herescape from the convent, and her lonely journey across the country, asif it were the easiest and most every-day occurrence. She says every oneseemed anxious to help her and take care of her.

  She is very little changed. Hers was not a face to change. The oldguileless expression is on her lips--the same trustful, truthful lightin her dark soft eyes; the calm, peaceful brow, that always reminded oneof a sunny, cloudless sky, is calm and bright still; and around it thegolden hair, not yet grown from its conventual cutting, clusters inlittle curls which remind me of her first days with us at Eisenach. Onlyall the character of the face seems deepened, I cannot say shadowed, butpenetrated with that kind of look which I fancy must always distinguishthe face of the saints above from those of the angels,--those who havesuffered from those who have only sympathized; that deep, tender,patient, trusting, human look, which is stamped on those who have passedto the heavenly rapturous "_Thy will be done_," through the agony of"_Not my will, but Thine_."

  At first Gretchen met her with the kind of reverent face she has atchurch; and she asked me afterwards, "Is that really the Cousin Eva inthe picture?" But now there is the most familiar intimacy between them,and Gretchen confidingly and elaborately expounds to Cousin Eva all hermost secret plans and delights. The boys, also, have a most unusualvalue for her good opinion, and appear to think her judgment beyond thatof ordinary women; for yesterday little Fritz was eagerly explaining toher the virtues of a new bow that had been given him, formed in theEnglish fashion.

  She is very anxious to set nine young nuns, who have embraced theLutheran doctrine, free from Nimptschen. Gottfried thinks it verydifficult, but by no means impracticable in time.

  Meanwhile, what a stormy world our dove has returned to!--the universitywell-nigh disorganized; the town in commotion; and no German Bible yetin any one's hands, by which, as Gottfried says, the claims of these newprophets might be tested.

  Yet it does not seem to depress Eva. She says it seems to her likecoming out of the ark into a new world; and, no doubt, Noah did not findeverything laid out in order for him. She is quite on my mother's sideabout the prophets. She says, the apostles preached not themselves, butChrist Jesus the Lord. If the Zwickau prophets preach him, they preachnothing new; and if they preach themselves, neither God nor the angelGabriel gave them that message.

  Our great sorrow is Fritz's continued imprisonment. At first we feltsure he would escape, but every month lessens our hopes, until wescarcely dare speak of him except in our prayers. Yet daily, togetherwith his deliverance, Gottfried and I pray for the return of Dr. Luther,and for the prosperous completion of his translation of the GermanBible, which Gottfried believes will be the greatest boon Dr. Luther hasgiven, or can ever give, to the German people, and through them to themChristendom.

  _Saturday_, _March_ 8, 1522.

  The great warm heart is beating amongst us once more!

  Dr. Luther is once more dwelling quietly in the Augustinian cloister,which he left for Worms a year ago. What changes since then! He left usamid our tears and vain entreaties not to trust his precious life to thetreacherous safe-conduct which had entrapped John Huss to the stake.

  He returns unscathed and triumphant--the defender of the good causebefore emperor, prelates, and princes--the hero of our German people.

  He left citizens and students for the most part trembling at the daringof his words and deeds.

  He returns to find students and burghers impetuously and blindly rushingon the track he opened, beyond his judgment and convictions.

  He left, the foremost in the attack, timidly followed as he hurriedforward, braving death alone.

  He returns to recall the scattered forces, dispersed and divided in wildand impetuous pursuit.

  Will, then, his voice be as powerful to recall and reorganize as it wasto urge forward?

  He wrote to the Elector, on his way from the Wartburg, disclaiming hisprotection--declaring that he returned to the flock God had committed tohim at Wittemberg, called and constrained by God himself, and undermightier protection than that of an elector! "The sword," he said,"could not defend the truth. The mightiest are those whose faith ismightiest. Relying on his master, Christ, and on him alone, he came."

  Gottfried says it is fancy, but already it seems to me I see adifference in the town--less bold, loud talking, than the day beforeyesterday; as in a family of eager, noisy boys, whose father is amongstthem again. But after to-morrow, we shall be able to judge better. He isto preach in the city pulpit.

  _Monday_, _March_ 10, 1522.

  We have heard him preach once more. Thank God, those days in thewilderness, as he called it, have surely not been lost days for Dr.Luther.

  As he stood again in the pulpit, many among the crowded congregationcould not refrain from shedding tears of joy. In that familiar form andtruthful, earnest face, we saw the man who had stood unmoved before theemperor and all the great ones of the empire--alone, upholding the truthof God.

  Many of us saw, moreover, with even deeper emotion, the sufferer who,during those last ten months, had stood before an enemy more terriblethan pope or emperor, in
the solitude of the Wartburg; and while his ownheart and flesh were often well-nigh failing in the conflict, had neverfailed to carry on the struggle bravely and triumphantly for us hisflock; sending masterly replies to the University of Paris; smiting thelying traffic with indulgences, by one noble remonstrance, from thetrembling hands of the Archbishop of Mainz; writing letter after letterof consolation or fatherly counsel to the little flock of Christ atWittemberg; and, through all, toiling at that translation of the Word ofGod, which is the great hope of our country.

  But older, tenderer, more familiar associations, mastered all the otherswhen we heard his voice again--the faithful voice that had warned andcomforted us so long in public and in private. To others, Dr. Luthermight be the hero of Worms, the teacher of Germany, the St. George whohad smitten the dragon of falsehood: to us he was the true, affectionatepastor; and many of us, I believe, heard little of the first words ofhis sermon, for the mere joy of hearing his voice again, as the clear,deep tones, vibrated through the silent church.

  He began with commending our faith. He said we had made much progressduring his absence. But he went on to say, "We must have more thanfaith--we must have love. If a man with a sword in his hand happens tobe alone, it matters little whether he keep it in the scabbard or not;but if he is in the midst of a crowd, he must take care to hold it so asnot to hurt any one.

  "A mother begins with giving her infant milk. Would it live if she gaveit first meat and wine?

  "But, thou, my friend, hast, perhaps had enough of milk! It way be wellfor thee. Yet let thy weaker, younger brother take it. The time was whenthou also couldst have taken nothing else.

  "See the sun! It brings us two things--light and heat. The rays of lightbeam directly on us. No king is powerful enough to intercept those keen,direct, swift rays. But heat is radiated back to us from every side.Thus, like the light, faith should ever be direct and inflexible; butlove, like the heat, should radiate on all sides, and meekly adaptitself to the wants of all.

  "The abolition of the mass, you say," he continued, "is according toScripture. I agree with you. But in abolishing it, what regard had youfor order and decency? You should have offered fervent prayers to God,public authority should have been applied to, and every one would haveseen then that the thing came from God.

  "The mass is a bad thing; God is its enemy: it ought to be abolished;and I would that throughout the whole world it were superceded by thesupper of the gospel. But let none tear any one away from it withviolence. The matter ought to be committed to God. It is His Word thatmust act, and not we. And wherefore? do you say? Because I do not holdthe hearts of men in my hand as the potter holds the clay in his. Ourwork is to speak; God will act. Let us preach. The rest belongs to him.If I employ force, what do I gain? Changes in demeanour, outward shows,grimaces, shams, hypocrisies. But what becomes of sincerity of heart, offaith, of Christian love? All is wanting where these are wanting; andfor the rest I would not give the stalk of a pear.

  "What we want is the heart; and to win that, we must preach the gospel.Then the word will drop to-day into one heart, to-morrow into another,and will so work that each will forsake the mass. God effects more thanyou and I and the whole world combined could attempt. He secures theheart; and when that is won, all is won.

  "I say not this in order to re-establish the mass. Since it has been putdown, in God's name let it remain so. But ought it to have been put downin the way it has been? St. Paul, on arriving at the great city ofAthens, found altars there erected to false gods. He passed from one toanother, made his own reflections on all, but touched none. But hereturned peaceably to the Forum, and declared to the people that allthose gods were mere idols. This declaration laid hold on the hearts ofsome, and the idols fell without Paul's touching them. I would preach, Iwould speak, I would write, but I would lay constraint on no one; forfaith is a voluntary thing. See what I have done! I rose in oppositionto the pope, to indulgences, and the Papists; but I did so withouttumult or violence. I pressed before all things the word of God; Ipreached, I wrote; I did nothing else. And while I was asleep, or seatedat table in conversation with Amsdorf and Melancthon, over ourWittemberg beer, that Word which I had been preaching was working, andsubverted the popedom as never before it was damaged by assault ofprince or emperor. I did nothing; all was done by the Word. Had I soughtto appeal to force, Germany might by this time have been steeped inblood. And what would have been the result? Ruin and desolation of souland body. I therefore kept myself quiet, and left the Word to force itsown way through the world. Know you what, the devil thinks when he seespeople employ violence in disseminating the gospel among men? Seatedwith his arms crossed behind hell fire, Satan says, with a malignantlook and hideous leer, 'Ah, but these fools are wise men, indeed, to domy work for me!' But when he sees the Word go forth and engage alone onthe field of battle, then he feels ill at ease; his knees smite againsteach other, he shudders and swoons away with terror."

  Quietly and reverently, not with loud debatings and noisy protestationsof what they would do next, the congregation dispersed.

  The words of forbearance came with such weight from that daring,fearless heart, which has braved the wrath of popedom and empire abovefor God, and still braves excommunication and ban!

  _Wednesday_, _March_ 11.

  Yesterday again Dr. Luther preached. He earnestly warned us against theirreverent participation in the holy sacrament. "It is not the externaleating, which makes the Christian," he said; "it is the internal andspiritual eating, which is the work of faith, and without which allexternal things are mere empty shows and vain grimaces. Now this faithconsists in firmly believing that Jesus Christ is the Son of God; thathaving charged himself with our sins and our iniquities, and havingborne them on the cross, he is himself the sole, the all-sufficientexpiation; that he ever appears before God; that he reconciles us to theFather, and that he has given us the sacrament of his body in order tostrengthen our faith in that unutterable mercy. If I believe thesethings, God is my defender: with him on my side, I brave sin, death,hell, and demons; they can do me no harm, nor even touch a hair of myhead. This spiritual bread is the consolation of the afflicted, the cureof the sick, the life of the dying, food to the hungry, the treasure ofthe poor. He who is not grieved by his sins, ought not, then, toapproach this altar. What would he do there? Ah, did our conscienceaccuse us, did our heart feel crushed at the thought of ourshortcomings, we could not then lightly approach the holy sacrament."

  There were more among us than the monk Gabriel Didymus (a few days sinceone of the most vehement of the violent faction, now sobered and broughtto his right mind), that could say as we listened, "Verily it is as thevoice of an angel."

  But, thank God, it is not the voice of an angel, but a human voicevibrating to every feeling of our hearts--the voice of our own true,outspoken Martin Luther, who will, we trust, now remain with us to buildup with the same word which has already cleared away so much.

  And yet I cannot help feeling as if his absence had done its work for usas well as his return. If the hands of violence can be arrested now, Icannot but rejoice they have done just as much as they have.

  Now, let Dr. Luther's principle stand. Abolish nothing that is notdirectly prohibited by the Holy Scriptures.

  _March_ 30.

  Dr. Luther's eight discourses are finished, and quiet is restored toWittemberg. The students resume their studies, the boys return toschool; each begins with a lowly heart once more the work of hiscalling.

  No one has been punished. Luther would not have force employed eitheragainst the superstitious or the unbelieving innovators. "Liberty," hesays, "is of the essence of faith."

  With his tender regard for the sufferings of others we do not wonder somuch at this.

  But we all wonder far more at the gentleness of his words. They say thebravest soldiers make the best nurses of their wounded comrades.Luther's hand seems to have laid aside
the battle-axe, and coming amonghis sick and wounded and perplexed people here, he ministers to themgently as the kindest woman--as our own mother could, who is herself wonover to love and revere him with all her heart.

  Not a bitter word has escaped him, although the cause these disordersare risking is the cause for which he has risked his life.

  And there are no more tumults in the streets. The frightened Cordeliermonks may carry on their ceremonies without terror, or the aid ofsoldiery. All the warlike spirits are turned once more from ragingagainst small external things, to the great battle beginning everywhereagainst bondage and superstition.

  Dr. Luther himself has engaged Dr. Melancthon's assistance in correctingand perfecting the translation of the New Testament, which he made inthe solitude of the Wartburg. Their friendship seems closer than ever.

  Christopher's press is in the fullest activity, and all seem full ofhappy, orderly occupation again.

  Sometimes I tremble when I think how much we seem to depend on Dr.Luther, lest we should make an idol of him; but Thekla, who is amongstus again, said to me when I expressed this fear,--

  "Ah, dear Else, that is the old superstition. When God gives us aglorious summer and good harvest, are we to receive it coldly and enjoyit tremblingly, lest he should send us a bad season next year to preventour being too happy? If he sends the dark days, will he not also give usa lamp for our feet through them?"

  And even our gentle mother said,--

  "I think if God gives us a staff, Else, he _intends_ us to lean on it."

  "And when he takes it away," said Eva, "I think He is sure to give ushis own hand instead! I think what grieves God is, when we use his giftsfor what he did _not_ intend them to be; as if, for instance, we were to_plant_ our staff, instead of _leaning_ on it; or to set it up as animage and adore it, instead of resting on it and adoring God. _Then_, Isuppose, we might have to learn that our idol was not in itself asupport, or a living thing at all, but only a piece of lifeless wood."

  "Yes," said Thekla decidedly, "when God gives us friends, I believe hemeans us to love them as much as we can. And when he gives us happiness,I am sure he means us to enjoy it as much as we can. And when he givessoldiers a good general, he means them to trust and follow him. And whenhe gives us back Dr. Luther and Cousin Eva," she added, drawing Eva'shand from her work and covering it with kisses, "I am quite sure hemeans us to welcome them with all our hearts, and feel that we can nevermake enough of them. O Else," she added, smiling, "you will never, I amafraid, be set quite free from the old fetters. Every now and then weshall hear them clanking about you, like the chains of the family ghostof the Gersdorfs. You will never quite believe, dear good sister, thatGod is not better pleased with you when you are sad than when you arehappy."

  "He is often nearest," said Eva softly, "when we are sad." And Thekla'slip quivered and her eyes filled with tears as she replied in adifferent tone,--

  "I think I know that too, Cousin Eva."

  Poor child, she has often had to prove it. Her heart must often achewhen she thinks of the perilous position of Bertrand de Crequi among hishostile kindred in Flanders. And it is therefore she cannot bear ashadow of a doubt to be thrown on the certainty of their re-union.

  The evangelical doctrine is enthusiastically welcomed at Antwerp andother cities of the Low Countries. But, on the other hand, the civil andecclesiastical authorities oppose it vehemently, and threatenpersecution.

  _May_, 1522.

  Dr. Luther has had an interview with Mark Stuebner, the schoolmasterCellarius, and others of the Zwickau prophets and their disciples. Hetold them plainly that he believed their violent, self-willed, fanaticalproceedings were suggested, not by the Holy Spirit of love and truth,but by the spirit of lies and malice. Yet he is said to have listened tothem with quietness. Cellarius, they say, foamed and gnashed his teethwith rage, but Stuebner showed more self-restraint.

  However, the prophets have all left Wittemberg, and quiet is restored.

  A calm has come down on the place, and on every home in it--the calm oforder and subjection instead of the restlessness of self-will. And allhas been accomplished through the presence and the words of the man whomGod has sent to be our leader, and whom we acknowledge. Not one act ofviolence has been done since he came. He would suffer no constrainteither on the consciences of the disciples of the "prophets," or onthose of the old superstition. He relies, as we all do, on the effect ofthe translation of the Bible into German, which is now quietly andrapidly advancing.

  Every week the doctors meet in the Augustinian Convent, now all butempty, to examine the work done, and to consult about the difficultpassages. When once this is accomplished, they believe God will speakthrough those divine pages direct to all men's hearts, and preachers anddoctors may retire to their lowly subordinate places.