Volume 1 — CHAPTER XV (continued 2)

It is psychologically worth noticing that Luther, in his zeal, seems never to have perceived that the argument might just as well be turned against himself. The Emperor and the Catholic powers of the Empire, with at least as much show of reason, might have urged as he did, that no power, without being doomed to “destruction” and to being “burnt to ashes,” could stand against the Gospel. The Gospel which they defended was that handed down by the Church, whereas Luther’s Evangel, to mention only one point, was novel and hitherto unheard of by theologians and faithful laity alike. On the one occasion when this thought occurred to him, he had the following excuse ready: We are sure of our faith, hence we may and must demand that everything yield to it; the Emperor and his party on the other hand have no such assurance and can never reach it. “We know that the Emperor is not and cannot be certain of it, because we know that he errs and seeks to oppose the Evangel. We are not obliged to believe that he is certain because he does not act in accordance with God’s Word, whereas we on the other hand do; for it is his bounden duty to recognise God’s Word!” Otherwise, Luther adds, “every murderer and adulterer might also plead: ‘I am right, therefore you must approve my act because I am certain I am in the right.’”[122]—“It was with arguments like these that the Protestant Estates were to justify their overthrow of the ancient faith and worship, and to demonstrate the wickedness of the Emperor’s efforts to preserve the faith and worship of his fathers.”[123]

Of the various memoranda which Luther had to draw up for his Sovereign on the question of armed resistance, that of February 8, 1523, prepared for the Elector Frederick, must be mentioned first.[124] In this the Prince’s attention is drawn to the fact, that publicly he had hitherto preserved an attitude of neutrality concerning religious questions, and had merely given out that, as a layman, he was waiting for the triumph of the truth. Hence it was necessary that he should declare himself for the justice of Luther’s cause if he intended to abandon his attitude of submission to the Imperial authority. In that case he might have recourse to arms in the character of a stranger who comes to the rescue, but not as a sovereign of the Empire. Further, “he must do this only at the call of a singular spirit and faith, short of which he must give way to the sword of the higher power and die with his Christians.”[125] Should he, however, be attacked, not by the Emperor, but by the Catholic Princes, then, after first attempting to bring about peace, he must repel force by force.

When, in 1528, the false reports were circulated, of which we hear in the history of the Pack negotiation, to wit, that the Catholic Princes of the Empire were on the point of falling upon the Protesters, Luther sent a letter to Johann, his Elector, regarding the question of law. What was to be done if the Catholic powers, without the authorisation of the Emperor, attacked the Lutheran party? Luther’s verdict was that such an act on the part of “scoundrel-princes” must be resisted by force of arms “as a real revolt and conspiracy against the Empire and His Imperial Majesty,” but that “to take the offensive and anticipate such an action on the part of the Princes was in no wise to be counselled.”[126]

On this occasion he manifested serious apprehension of the mischief which might be caused by a precipitate armed attack on the part of his princely patrons. It was a very different matter to look forward to a mere possibility of war and to find himself directly confronted with an outbreak of hostilities. “May God preserve us from such a horror! This would indeed be to fish with a draw-net and to take might for right. No greater blame could attach to the Evangel, for this would be no Peasant Rising but a Rising of the Princes, which would destroy Germany utterly to the joy of Satan.”[127]

The above memorandum had dealt with the question of an attack by the Princes of the Empire. But what was to be done if the Emperor himself intervened?

The Lutheran Princes and Estates were anxious to exercise the utmost caution and restraint with regard to the Emperor personally, and in this Luther agreed with them. At Spires, in 1526, they had decided to behave “in such a way as to be able to answer for it before God and the Emperor,” which, however, did not prevent them from establishing the “evangelical” worship in contravention of the decrees of Worms. It was hoped that the Emperor, hampered by his foreign policy, would not take up arms. When, accordingly, the protesting Princes, at the time of the Pack business, commenced warlike preparations against the Catholic party in the Empire, they solemnly declared at Rotach, in June, 1528, that they “excepted” the Emperor. In the same way they desired that their action at Spires in 1529, where they “protested” against the Emperor, should be looked upon as an appeal to the Emperor “better instructed.” When the Emperor, on account of the protest, began to take a serious view of the matter, any scruples which the sovereigns of Hesse and the Saxon Electorate may have felt concerning the employment of armed resistance against him soon evaporated. In Saxony it was held that a closer alliance of the Princes favourable to the innovations ought not to be “shorn of its meaning and value” by this “exemption of the Emperor”; the exemption, it was argued, was only of the person of the Emperor, not of his mandataries. A Saxon memorandum at the end of July, 1529, practically made an end of the exemption; “resistance, even to the Emperor, the most dangerous of our foes, belongs to the natural law of humanity.”[128] This was the opinion of the Margrave of Brandenburg, and even more so of the Landgrave of Hesse. At Nuremberg, however, Lazarus Spengler sought to persuade the Council to negative this resolution; he was still entirely under the influence of Luther’s earlier teaching, that the spirit must be ready to endure and suffer under the secular authorities.

Luther, in spite of his frequent threats and urgings, was not immediately to be induced to make common cause with the politicians. In January, 1530, Johann Brenz penned a memorandum in which, in terms of the utmost decision, he denies the lawfulness of resisting the Emperor, whereas on Christmas Day, 1529, in a similar memorandum requested of him by the Elector, Luther expresses himself most ambiguously. He, indeed, just hints at the unlawfulness of such resistance, but qualifies this admission by such words as the following: “There must be no resistance unless actual violence is done, or dire necessity compels”; “without a Council and without a hearing” there must be no war against the Emperor; before this, however, much water is likely to flow under the bridge, and God may easily find means of establishing peace; “hence my opinion is that the project of taking the field should be abandoned for the nonce, unless further cause or necessity should arise.”[129]

In a letter to George, Margrave of Brandenburg, written on March 6, 1530, with the object of winning him over to the war party, Philip of Hesse declared that he had seen “in Luther’s own writings to the Elector, that he sanctioned the latter’s resisting the Emperor.” This probably refers to the above memorandum which lies to-day in the Hessian archives at Marburg, the original of which seems to have been submitted to Philip; it may, however, have been some other letter since lost, or possibly the 1528 memorandum in which Luther speaks of the lawfulness of repelling the anticipated attack of the Catholic Princes.[130]

To take up arms in the cause of the Evangel was certainly not in accordance with Luther’s previous teaching, however much he may himself have occasionally disregarded it. Owing to a certain mystical confidence in his cause, he could not bring himself to believe that things would ever come to be settled by force of arms. The Elector Johann, unlike Philip of Hesse, again began to hesitate. On January 27, 1530, he instructed the Wittenberg Faculty to let him have, within three weeks, the views of its lawyers. These counsellors declared in favour of the lawfulness of such a war against the Emperor, basing their view on two considerations, viz. that as an appeal had been made to a Council the Emperor could not in the meantime insist upon submission in matters of religion, and that, on his election at Frankfurt, it had been agreed that all the Princes and Estates should retain their customary rights. In spite of this, the lawyers consulted were not in favour of having forthwith recourse to open resistance, but suggested the exercise of patience and restraint.[131] Luther and Melanchthon replied only on March 6, 1530. What strikes one in Luther’s reply is that “he has nothing personal to say on the relations between Emperor and Prince; this was a serious omission. All he sees is the individual Christian—in this case the sovereign—and his fidelity to the faith.... He is still unable to believe in a coming disaster, for this his God will surely not permit.”[132]

His categorical declaration, in the memorandum of March 30, 1530, against the lawfulness of resistance, is of greater importance, for it is the last of the kind. After this the change already foreseen was to take place.

With an express appeal to his three advisers, Jonas, Bugenhagen and Melanchthon, Luther explains to the Elector,[133] that armed resistance “can in no way be reconciled with Scripture.” Quite candidly he lays stress on the unfavourable prospects of resistance and the evil consequences which must attend success. Having taken the step, we should, he says, “be forced to go further, to drive away the Emperor and make ourselves Emperor.” “In the confusion and tumult which would ensue everyone would want to be Emperor, and what horrible bloodshed and misery would that not cause.”[134]

In principle, it will be observed, the letter left open a loophole in the event of a more favourable condition of the Protestant cause supervening, i.e. should it be possible to arrive at the desired result by some quieter and safer means, and without deposing the Emperor. None the less noteworthy are, however, the biblical utterances to which Luther again returns: “A Christian ought to be ready to suffer violence and injustice, more particularly from his own ruler,” otherwise “there would be no authority or obedience left in the world.” He would fain uphold, against all law, “whether secular or Popish,” the truth, that “authority is of Divine institution.” Hence the Princes must quietly submit to all the Emperor does; “Each one must answer for himself and maintain his belief at the risk of life and limb, and not drag the Princes with him into danger.” “The matter must be committed to God.” Hence the memorandum culminates in the exhortation to sacrifice “life and limb,” i.e. to endure martyrdom.[135] This memorandum of Luther’s was kept secret. At any rate the apparently heroic renunciation of all recourse to arms, together with the reference—reminiscent of his earlier mysticism—to the Christian’s vocation to suffer violence and injustice, make of this memorandum a remarkable document not to be matched by any other writing of Luther at that time. Though there is little doubt that the sight of the comparatively helpless and critical position of the new party had its effect here, yet, beyond this, there is a psychological connection between the standpoint voiced in the memorandum and Luther’s attitude after the inward change which occurred in him whilst yet a monk. His perfectly just injunction not to withstand the Emperor, he rests partly on the mystic theories he had imbibed at that time, partly on his early erroneous views concerning the rights of the authorities as guardians of outward, public order. In his enthusiasm for his cause he clings to that presumptuous confidence in a special Divine guidance, which had inspired him from the beginning of his career. “The call of a singular spirit and faith,” which he considered necessary in the case of the Elector Frederick (see above, p. 48), he hears quite clearly within himself, though as yet this call does not urge him to advocate armed resistance to the Emperor, but merely inspires him blindly to confide in his cause and to exhort others to “martyrdom.”

Simultaneously Melanchthon sent to the Elector a memorandum of his own, which, apart from being clearer in language and thought, closely resembles Luther’s and betrays the same deficiencies.[136]

The Change of 1530; Influence of the Courts.

In that same year, 1530, after his return to Wittenberg from the Coburg on the termination of the Diet of Augsburg, a notable change took place in Luther’s public attitude towards the question of the employment of force. This change we can follow step by step.

The fact that the lawyers attached to the Court had, in view of the circumstances, altered their minds, weighed strongly with Luther. Confronted with the measures of retaliation announced by the Diet, and more hopeful regarding the prospects of resistance now that the Protesters were joining forces, the councillors of the Saxon Electorate, with Chancellor Brück at their head, were inclined to the opinion that whatever sentences the Reichsgericht might pronounce in virtue of the Imperial edict of Augsburg might safely be disregarded, which, of course, was tantamount to a commencement of resistance. They were very anxious concerning the consequences of the decrees of Augsburg, as these involved the restitution of all the property and rights of the Church, which had been appropriated by the secular power in the name of religion. Johann, Elector of Saxony, for a while continued to regard resistance as unlawful. On reaching Nuremberg, on his return journey from Augsburg, he said to Luther’s friend there, Wenceslaus Link: “Should one of my neighbours, or anyone else, attack me on account of the Evangel, I should resist him with all the force at my command, but should the Emperor come and attack me, he is my liege lord and I must yield to him, and what were more honourable than to be exterminated on account of the Word of God?”[137] Gradually, however, he was brought over to the new standpoint of his councillors. The example of the Landgrave of Hesse, who belonged to the war party and was very hopeful of the results of a league, had great weight with him, and likewise his determination not to surrender to the executors of the Imperial edict the Church property which had been confiscated. The innovations which, in the beginning, had seemed a work of high-minded idealists, were now pushed forward by many of the Princes, for motives of the very lowest, viz. to avoid making restitution of property which had been unlawfully distrained. On unevangelical motives such as these it was that the theory of submission to the secular power, in particular to the Emperor, announced by Luther in such grandiloquent language, was to suffer shipwreck.

Philip of Hesse, who was aware of the weak points in Luther’s previous declarations on the subject, was the first to attempt to bring about a change in his views.

He entered into communication with Luther in October, 1530, and sent him a “writing,” together with a “Christian admonition,” to encourage him and his theologians, in whom, during the Diet, he thought he had detected a certain tendency to waver. Luther replied, on October 15, in a very devout letter, assuring the Landgrave that he had “received both the writing and the admonition with pleasure and gladness.” “I beg to thank Your Highness for your good and earnest counsel”; he and his, as time went on, were “even less disposed to yield” and reckoned on the help of God.[138]

Philip, in his next letter a week later, came at once to the crucial point, the question of resistance. He reminded Luther of the memorandum in which he had said, they must indeed not “commence the war, but that if they were attacked they might defend themselves” (p. 50 f.). Philip, without further ado, explains his plans against the Emperor. The Emperor, he says with perfect frankness, “took the oath to his Princes at his election, just as much as they did to him.... Hence, if the Emperor does not keep his oath to us, he reduces himself to the rank of any other man, and must no longer be regarded as a real Emperor, but as a mere breaker of the peace.” The “most important of the Electors and Estates” had not agreed to the Reichstagsabschied. Hence there was hope of triumphing over the Emperor. In his letter to Luther, he even makes use of comparisons from the Bible, just as Luther himself was in the habit of doing, and this he did again at a later date when seeking Luther’s sanction for his bigamy. “God in the Old Testament did not forsake His people or allow the country to perish which trusted in Him.” He had come to the aid of the Bohemians and of “many other too, against Emperors and such-like, who treated their subjects with unjust violence.” This being so, he requests Luther for his “advice and opinion” whether force may not be used, seeing that “His Majesty is determined to re-establish the devil’s doctrine.”[139]

Luther now saw himself obliged openly to avow his standpoint, all the more as a similar request had reached him from the Elector, in this case possibly a verbal one. He left the Landgrave to wait and replied first to the Elector, though only by word of mouth, so as not to commit himself irretrievably on so delicate a matter. What his reply exactly was is not known. At the end of October he had to go to Torgau for a conference on the subject with the Elector’s legal advisers and possibly those of other Princes. Melanchthon and Jonas accompanied him, and the negotiations were protracted and lively.[140]

During these negotiations Luther replied from Torgau, on October 28, to the letter from the Landgrave referred to above, though in general and evasive terms. He says, he hopes no blood will be shed, but, in the event of things going so far, he had told the Elector his opinion on resistance, and of this the Landgrave would hear in due season; that it would be dangerous for him, as an ecclesiastic, to put this into writing, for many reasons.[141] Hence for the nonce he was determined to express himself only verbally on this tiresome question.

In what direction his thoughts were then turning may be gathered from what he says to the Landgrave in the same letter concerning his writings; the latter had asked him, he says, for a controversial booklet, “as a consolation for the weak”; he intended “in any case to publish a booklet shortly ... admonishing all consciences, that no subject was bound to render obedience should His Imperial Majesty persist”; and in which he will prove that the Emperor’s demands are “blasphemous, murderous and diabolical”—still, the booklet was not to be termed “seditious.” He here is referring either to the “Auff das vermeint Edict” or to the “Warnunge.” We have already spoken of the revolutionary character of the language he used in these tracts published in the early part of 1531, and, subsequently, in the reply “Widder den Meuchler zu Dresen.”[142] What he was there to advocate goes far beyond the limits of mere passive resistance.

He was at first unwilling to declare his views at Torgau. Not to contradict what he had previously said, he protested that the question did not concern him, since, as a theologian, his business was to teach Christ only. As regards secular matters, he could only counsel compliance with the law and, on the matter of forcible resistance to the Emperor, that any action taken should be conformable to the “written laws.” “But what these laws were he neither knew nor cared.”[143]

The assembled lawyers were, however, loath to leave Torgau without having reached an understanding, and submitted another statement to Luther and his colleagues, requesting their opinion on it. In this document they had sought to prove, from sources almost exclusively canonical, that it was lawful to resist the Emperor by force, because “he proceeds and acts contrary to law,” not being a judge in matters of religion, and that, even if he were such a judge, he had no right to do anything on account of the appeal to a Council. They urged that it was necessary to “obey God and evangelical truth rather than men,” and that the Emperor was “no more than a private individual so far as the ‘cognition’ and ‘statution’ of this matter went ... nor does the ‘execution’ come within his province.” For the sake of the salvation of souls the Emperor was not to be regarded as “judge in the matter of our faith,” for his “injustice is undeniable, manifest, patent and notorious, yea, more than notorious.”[144]

The councillors chose to deal with the matter chiefly from the point of view of canon law, as is shown by their misquotations from such well-known canonists as Panormitanus, Innocent IV., Felinus, Baldus de Ubaldis and the Archidiaconus (Baisius).[145] In spite of this they calmly assumed the truth of the proposition, condemned in canon law, of the subordination of Pope to Council and of the right of appealing from Pope to Council. They took it for granted that Luther’s doctrines had not yet been finally rejected by the Church, and, in contradiction with actual fact, declared that the Augsburg Reichstagsabschied “admitted and allowed” that Luther’s doctrines, seeing that they were supposed to have been condemned by previous Councils, should come up for discussion at the next. As a matter of fact the Reichstagsabschied contained nothing of the sort “concerning doctrines of faith.”[146]

This document was submitted to the theologians before they left Torgau, and their embarrassment was reflected in their written reply. Luther agreed with his friends that the only way out of the difficulty was to put the whole thing on the shoulders of the lawyers. He and his party declared that they stood altogether outside the question, since the councillors had already decided independently of them in favour of armed resistance, on the ground of the secular, Imperial laws. As for the reasons alleged from canon law, he refused to take them into consideration. Later on he was glad to be able to appeal to this subterfuge, and declared that he “had given no counsel.”[147]

At this time, however, Luther, Melanchthon and Jonas put their signatures to a memorandum in which they sought to protect themselves by certain assurances which make a painful impression on the reader.

It was true that hitherto they had taught, so they say, “that the [secular] authorities must on no account be resisted,” but, they had been unaware “that the authorities’ own laws, which we have always taught must be diligently obeyed, sanctioned this.” They had also taught, “that the secular laws must be allowed to take their own course, because the Gospel teaches nothing against the worldly law.” “Accordingly, now that the doctors and experts in the law have proved that our present case is such that it is lawful to resist the authorities, we, for our part, ‘cannot disprove this from Scripture, when self-defence is called for, even though it should be against the Emperor himself.’” They then come to the question of arming. This they declare to be distinctly practical and advisable, especially as “any day other causes may arise where it would be essential to be ready to defend oneself, not merely from worldly motives, but from duty and constraint of conscience.” It was necessary “to be ready to encounter a power which might suddenly arise.”[148]

The Landgrave of Hesse was then making great preparations for war, with an eye on Würtemberg, where, as he admitted publicly, he wished forcibly to re-instate Duke Ulrich, a friend to the religious innovations.

The theologians of the Margraviate of Brandenburg, unlike those of Wittenberg, were opposed to resistance. They replied then, or somewhat later, concerning the views put forward by the lawyers, that it was a question of the supreme secular Majesty, not of a judge who was subservient to a higher secular sword, hence that the lawyers’ suppositions could not stand.[149] Little heed was however paid to their objection. On the other hand the proposal made by the legal consulters, that further representations should be made to the Emperor regarding the execution of the Reichstagsabschied, was described by the theologians as “not expedient,” though it might be further discussed at the Nuremberg Conference on November 11 (Martinmas).[150]

Instead, it was for November 13 that a summons, dispatched by Saxony on October 31, invited a conference to meet at Nuremberg to discuss the matter, and take the steps which eventually led to the formation of the defensive League of Schmalkalden. At first it was proposed, that, after the Nuremberg conference, another should be held at Schmalkalden on November 28, though as a matter of fact the only meeting held commenced at Schmalkalden on December 22.

Only now did it become apparent that Luther and his theologians had, at least in the opinion of the Saxon politicians, expressed themselves privately much more openly in favour of resistance than would appear from the above memorandum. The envoys from the Saxon Electorate appealed with great emphasis to the opinion of the Wittenberg divines, in order to show the lawfulness of the plan of armed resistance and the expediency of the proposed League. Armed with this authority they openly “defied our ministers,” wrote Lazarus Spengler of Nuremberg, to Veit Dietrich on February 20, 1531. Spengler, like the Nuremberg Councillors and those of Brandenburg, was opposed to resistance and to the League. He was surprised that “Dr. Martin should so contradict himself.”[151] The fact is that he was the only person to whom Luther’s previous memorandum of March, 1530, had been communicated.[152]

The Nuremberg magistrates appealed, among other reasons, to the clear testimony of Scripture which did not sanction such proceedings against the supreme secular authority. They feared the consequences of a religious war for Germany, just as Luther himself had formerly done, but, in spite of their adherence to the new faith, they were more frank and courageous in their effort to avert it than he on whose shoulders the chief responsibility in the war was to rest.

One sentence of Melanchthon’s, written in those eventful days, singularly misrepresents the true position of affairs. To his friend Camerarius, on January 1, 1531, he says: “We discountenance all arming.”[153]

Melanchthon also writes: “We are now consulted less frequently than heretofore as to the lawfulness of resistance,” and he repeats much the same thing on February 15, 1531: “On the matter of the League no one now questions either Luther or myself.”[154] If we can here detect a faint note of wonder and regret, we may assuredly ask whether the very behaviour of the theologians at Torgau was not the reason of their advice being at a discount; their dissimulation and ambiguity were not of a nature to inspire the lawyers and statesmen with much respect.

It was some time before this vacillation in official, written statements came to an end. Some more instances of it are to be met with in the epistolary communications between Luther and the town of Nuremberg, which was opposed to the Schmalkalden tendencies.

Prior to November 20, 1530, the Elector of Saxony had addressed himself to the magistrates of Nuremberg with the request that “they would make preparations for resisting the unjust and violent measures of the Emperor.” Of this Veit Dietrich informed Luther from Nuremberg on that day, adding that the Elector had made a reference to an approval of the measures of defence secured from his “Councillors and Doctors,” but had said nothing of the theologians.[155] News was, however, subsequently received in Nuremberg that the Saxon envoys present at Schmalkalden had boasted of the support of Luther and his friends.

It was in consequence of this that the Nuremberg preacher, Wenceslaus Link, enquired of Luther in the beginning of January, 1531, or possibly earlier, whether the news which had reached Nuremberg by letter was true, viz. that “they had expressed the opinion that resistance might be employed against the Emperor.”

Without delay, on January 15, Luther assured him: “We have by no means given such a counsel” (“nullo modo consuluimus”).[156]

By way of further explanation he adds: “When some said openly that it was not necessary to consult the theologians at all, or to trouble about them, and that the matter concerned only the lawyers who had decided in favour of its lawfulness, I for my part declared: I view the matter as a theologian, but if the lawyers can prove its permissibility from their laws, I see no reason why they should not use their laws; that is altogether their business. If the Emperor by virtue of his laws determines the permissibility of resistance in such a case, then let him bear the consequences of his law; I, however, pronounce no opinion or judgment on this law, but I stick to my theology.” It is thus that he expresses himself concerning the argument which the lawyers had, as a matter of fact, drawn almost exclusively from canon law, the texts of which they misread.

He then puts forward his own theory in favour of the belligerent nobles of his party, according to which a ruler, when he acts as a politician, is not acting as a Christian (“non agit ut christianus”), as though his conscience as a sovereign could be kept distinct from his conscience as a Christian. “A Christian is neither Prince nor commoner nor anything whatever in the personal world. Hence whether resistance is permissible to a ruler as ruler, let them settle according to their own judgment and conscience. To a Christian nothing [of that sort] is lawful, for he is dead to the world.”

“The explanations [Luther’s] have proceeded thus far,” he concludes this strange justification, “and this much you may tell Lazarus [Spengler, the clerk to the Nuremberg Council] concerning my views. I see clearly, however, that, even should we oppose their project, they are nevertheless resolved to offer resistance and not to draw back, so full are they of their own ideas; I preach in vain that God will come to our assistance, and that no resistance will be required. God’s help is indeed visible in this, that the Diet has led to no result, and that our foes have hitherto taken no steps. God will continue to afford us His help; but not everyone has faith. I console myself with this thought: since the Princes are determined not to accept our advice, they sin less, and act with greater interior assurance, by proceeding in accordance with the secular law, than were they to act altogether against their conscience and directly contrary to Holy Scripture. It is true they do not wit that they are acting contrary to Scripture, though they are not transgressing the civil law. Therefore I let them have their way, I am not concerned.”

He thus disclaimed all responsibility, and he did so with all the more confidence by reason of his sermons to the people, where he continued to speak as before of the love of peace which actuated him, ever with the words on his lips: “By the Word alone.” “Christ,” he exclaims, “will not suffer us to hurt Pope or rebel by so much as a hair.”[157]

It was easy to foresee that after such replies from Luther, Spengler and the magistrates of Nuremberg would not be pleased with him. Possibly Link had doubts about making known at Nuremberg a writing which was more in the nature of an excuse than a reply, since, on such a burning question which involved the future of Germany, a more reliable decision might reasonably have been looked for. On February 20, fresh enquiries and complaints concerning the news which had come to Nuremberg of Luther’s approval of organised resistance, reached Veit Dietrich, from the Council clerk, Spengler, and were duly transmitted to Luther (see above, p. 58 f.). Luther now thought it advisable, on account of the charge of having retracted his previous opinion, to justify himself to Spengler and the magistrates. In his written reply of February 15, he assured the clerk, that he “was not conscious of such a retractation.” For, to the antecedent, he still adhered as before, viz. that it was necessary to obey the Emperor and to keep his laws. As for the conclusion, that the Emperor decrees that in such a case he may be resisted, this, he says, “was an inference of the jurists, not of our own; should they bring forward a proof in support of this conclusion—which as yet they have not done—(‘probationem exspectamus, quam non videmus’)—we shall be forced to admit that the Emperor has renounced his rights in favour of a political and Imperial law which supersedes the natural law.” Of the Divine law and of the Bible teaching, which Luther had formerly advocated with so much warmth, we find here no mention.[158]

The scruples of the magistrates of Nuremberg were naturally not set at rest by such answers, but continued as strong as ever. After the League had already been entered into, an unknown Nuremberg councillor of Lutheran sympathies, wrote again to the highest theological authority in Wittenberg for information as to its legality. In his reply Luther again threw off all responsibility, referring him, even more categorically than before, to the politicians: “They must take it upon their own conscience and see whether they are in the right.... If they have right on their side, then the League is well justified.” Personally he preferred to refrain from pronouncing any opinion, and this on religious grounds, because such leagues were frequently entered into “in reliance on human aid,” and had also been censured by the Prophets of the Old Covenant. Had he chosen, the distinguished Nuremberger might have taken these words as equivalent to a doubt as to the moral character of the League of Schmalkalden. Furthermore, Luther adds: “A good undertaking and a righteous one” must, in order to succeed, rely on God rather than on men. “What is undertaken in real confidence in God, ends well, even though it should be mistaken and sinful,” and the contrary likewise holds good; for God is jealous of His honour even in our acts.[159]

The citizens of Nuremberg had, in the meantime, on February 19, sent to the Saxon envoys their written refusal to join the League of Schmalkalden. The magistrates therein declared that they were still convinced (as Luther had been formerly) that resistance to the Emperor was forbidden by Holy Writ, and that the reasons to the contrary advanced by the learned men of Saxony were insufficient.[160] George, Elector of the Franconian part of Brandenburg, who was otherwise one of the most zealous supporters of the innovations, also refused to join the League.

The memorandum in which Luther, Jonas, Bugenhagen and Melanchthon had declared, in March, 1530, that the employment of force in defence of the Gospel “could not in any way be reconciled with Scripture” (above, p. 51 f.) was kept a secret. Not even Melanchthon himself was permitted to send it to his friend Camerarius, though he promised to show it him on a visit.[161] Myconius, however, sent it from Gotha confidentially to Lang at Erfurt, on September 19, 1530, and wrote at the same time: “I am sending you the opinion of Luther and Philip, but on condition that you show it to no one. For it is not good that Satan’s cohorts should be informed of all the secrets of Christ; besides, there are some amongst us too weak to be able to relish such solid food.”[162]

In spite of these precautions copies of the “counsel” came into circulation. The text reached Cochlæus, who forthwith, in 1531, had it printed as a document throwing a timely light on the belligerent League entered into at Schmalkalden in that year. He subjoined a severe, running criticism, a reply by Paul Bachmann, Abbot of the monastery of Altenzell, and other writings.[163]

Cochlæus pointed out, that it was not the Emperor but Luther, who had been a persecutor of the Gospel for more than twelve years. Should, however, the Emperor persecute the true Gospel of Christ, then the exhortation contained in Luther’s memorandum patiently to allow things to take their course and even to suffer martyrdom, would be altogether inadmissible, because there existed plenty means of obtaining redress; in such a case God was certainly more to be obeyed than the Emperor; any Prince who should assist the Emperor in such an event must be looked upon as a tyrant and ravening wolf; it was, on the contrary, the duty of the Princes to risk life and limb should the Gospel and true faith of their subjects be menaced; and in the same way the towns and all their burghers must offer resistance; this would be no revolt, seeing that the Imperial authority would be tyrannously destroying the historic ecclesiastical order as handed down, in fact, the Divine order. Luther’s desire, Cochlæus writes, that each one should answer for himself to the Emperor, was unreasonable and quite impossible for the unlearned. Finally, he warmly invites the doctors of the new faith to return to Mother Church.[164]

The author of the other reply to Luther’s secret memorandum dealt more severely with it. Abbot Bachmann declares, that it was not inspired by charity but by the cunning and malice of the old serpent. “As long as Luther had a free hand to carry on his heresies unopposed, he raged like a madman, called the Pope Antichrist, the Emperor a bogey, the Princes fools, tyrants and jackanapes, worse even than the Turks; but, now that he foresees opposition, the old serpent turns round and faces his tail, simulating a false humility, patience and reverence for the authorities, and says: ‘A Christian must be ready to endure violence from his rulers!’ Yet even this assertion is not true always and everywhere....” Should a ruler really persecute the Divine teaching, then it would be necessary to defend oneself against him. “I should have had to write quite a big book,” he concludes, “had I wished to reply one by one to all the sophistries which Luther accumulates in this his counsel.”[165]

The League of Schmalkalden and the Religious Peace of Nuremberg.

The League of Schmalkalden was first drawn up and subscribed to by Johann, Elector of Saxony, and Ernest, Duke of Brunswick, on February 27, 1531. The other members affixed their signatures to the document at Schmalkalden on March 29. The League comprised, in addition to the Electorate of Saxony and the Duchy of Brunswick-Lüneburg, the Landgraviate of Hesse under Philip, the prime mover of the undertaking, and was also subscribed to by Prince Wolfgang of Anhalt, Counts Gebhard and Albert of Mansfeld, and the townships of Strasburg, Ulm, Constance, Reutlingen, Memmingen, Lindau, Biberach, Isny, Lübeck, Magdeburg and Bremen.

A wedge had been driven into the unity of Germany at the expense of her internal strength and external development. What had been initiated at Gotha in 1526 by the armed coalition between Landgrave Philip of Hesse and the Elector of Saxony, in the interests of the religious innovations, was now consummated.

The obligation to which the members of the League of Schmalkalden pledged themselves by oath was as follows: “That where one party is attacked or suffers violence for the Word of God or for causes arising from it, or on any other pretext, each one shall treat the matter in no other way than as though he himself were attacked, and shall therefore, without even waiting for the others, come to the assistance of the party suffering violence, and succour him to the utmost of his power.” The alliance, which was first concluded for six years, was repeatedly renewed later and strengthened by the accession of new members.

Luther, for his part, had now arrived at the goal whither his steps had been tending and towards which so many of the statements contained in his letters and writings had pointed, inspired as they were by a fiery prepossession in favour of his cause. It suited him admirably, that, when the iron which had so long been heating came upon the anvil, he should remain in the background, leaving to the lawyers the first place and the duty of tendering opinions. In his eyes, however, the future success of the League, in view of its then weakness, was still very doubtful. Should the Schmalkalden conference turn out to be the commencement of a period of misfortune for the innovations, still, thanks to the restraint which Luther had imposed on himself, in spite of his being the moving spirit and the religious link between the allies, his preaching of the Evangel would be less compromised. The miseries of the Peasant War, which had been laid to his account, the excesses of the Anabaptists against public order, the unpopularity which he had earned for himself everywhere on account of the revolts and disturbance of the peace, were all of a nature to make him more cautious. There are many things to show, that, instead of promoting the outbreak of hostilities in the days immediately subsequent to the Diet of Augsburg, he would very gladly have contented himself with the assurance, that, for the present, the Reichstagsabschied not being capable of execution, things might as well take their course. By this policy he would gain time; he was also anxious for the new faith quietly to win new ground, so as to demonstrate to the Emperor by positive proofs the futility of any proceedings against himself.

The wavering attitude of many of the Catholic Estates at Augsburg had inspired him with great hopes of securing new allies. It there became apparent that either much had been rotten for a long time past in that party of the Diet which hitherto had been faithful to the Pope, or that the example of the Protesters had proved infectious.

Wider prospects were also opening out for Lutheranism. In Würtemberg Catholicism was menaced by the machinations of the Landgrave of Hesse. There seemed a chance of the towns of Southern Germany being won back from Zwinglian influences and making common cause with Wittenberg. Henry the Eighth’s failure in his divorce proceedings also raised the hopes of the friends of the new worship that England, too, might be torn away from the Papal cause. At the conclusion of the Diet, Bugenhagen had been summoned by the magistrates of Lübeck in order to introduce the new Church system in that city.

In Bavaria there was danger lest the jealousy of the Dukes at the growth of the house of Habsburg, and their opposition to the expected election of Ferdinand as King, should help in the spread of schism.

It is noteworthy that Luther’s letter to Ludwig Senfl, the eminent and not unfriendly musician and composer, bandmaster to Duke William and a great favourite at the Court of Bavaria, should have been sent just at this time. To him Luther was high in his praise of the Court: Since the Dukes of Bavaria were so devoted to music, he must extol them, and give them the preference over all other Princes, for friends of music must necessarily possess a good seed of virtue in their soul. This connection with Senfl he continued in an indirect fashion.[166]

The best answer to the resolutions passed at Augsburg seemed to the first leader of the movement to lie in expansion, i.e. in great conquests, to be achieved in spite of all threats of violence.

Instead of having recourse to violence, the Empire, however, entered into those negotiations which were ultimately to lead, in 1532, to the so-called Religious Peace of Nuremberg. At about this time Luther sent a missive to his Elector in which his readiness for a religious war is perfectly plain.

The document, which was composed jointly with the other Wittenberg theologians, and for the Latinity of which Melanchthon may have been responsible, treats, it would appear, of certain Imperial demands for concessions made at the Court of the Elector on September 1, 1531, previous to the Schmalkalden conference. These demands manifest the utmost readiness on the part of the authorities of the Empire to make advances. Yet Luther in his reply refuses to acquiesce even in the proposal that people everywhere should be allowed to receive the Sacrament under one kind, according to the ritual hitherto in use. We are bound to declare openly and at all times, he says, that all those who refrain from receiving under both kinds are guilty of sin. He continues, referring to the other points under debate: It is true that we are told of the terrible consequences which must result should “war and rebellion break out, the collapse of all public order fall like a scourge upon Germany, and the Turks and other foreign powers subjugate the divided nation. To this our reply is: Sooner let the world perish than have peace at the expense of the Evangel. We know our teaching is certain; not a hair’s breadth may we yield for the sake of the public peace. We must commend ourselves to God, Who has hitherto protected His Church during the most terrible wars, and Who has helped us beyond all expectation.”[167]

This argument based on the Evangel cuts away the ground from under all Luther’s previous more moderate counsels.

The religious peace of Nuremberg was in the end more favourable to him than he could have anticipated. To his dudgeon, however, he had to remain idle while the guidance of the movement was assumed almost entirely by the League of Schmalkalden, the fact that the League was a military one supplying a pretext for dispossessing him more and more of its direction. Already, in 1530, he had been forced to look on while Philip made advances to the sectaries of Zürich and the other Zwinglian towns of Switzerland, and concluded a treaty with them on November 16 for mutual armed assistance in the event of an attack on account of the faith. “This will lead to a great war,” he wrote to the Elector, “and, as your Electoral Highness well knows, in such a war we shall be defending the error concerning the Sacrament, which will thus become our own; from this may Christ, my Lord, preserve your Electoral Highness.”[168]

His apprehensions, lest the good repute of his cause should be damaged by unjust bloodshed, grew, when, in 1534, the warlike Landgrave set out for Würtemberg.

It was a crying piece of injustice and violence when Philip of Hesse, after having allied himself with France, by means of a lucky campaign, robbed King Ferdinand of Würtemberg and established the new faith in that country by reinstating the Lutheran Duke Ulrich.[169]

Before the campaign Luther had declared that it was “contrary to the Gospel,” and would “bring a stain upon our teaching,” and that “it was wrong to disturb or violate the peace of the commonwealth.”[170] He hinted at the same time that he did not believe in a successful issue: “No wise man,” he said subsequently, “would have risked it.”[171]—Yet, when the whole country was in the hands of the conqueror, when a treaty of peace had been signed in which the articles on religion were purposely framed in obscure and ambiguous terms, while the prospects of the new faith, in view of Ulrich’s character, seemed excellent, Luther expressed his joy and congratulations to the Hessian Court through Justus Menius, a preacher of influence: “We rejoice that the Landgrave has returned happily after having secured peace. It is plain that this is God’s work; contrary to the general expectation He has set our fears to rest! He Who has begun the work will also bring it to a close. Amen.”[172]

Luther himself tells us later what foreign power it was that had rendered this civil war in the very heart of Germany possible. “Before he [the Landgrave] reinstated the Duke of Würtemberg he was in France with the King, who lent him 200,000 coronati to carry on the war.”[173]

The fear of an impending great war between the religious parties in Germany was gradually dispelled. The object of the members of the League of Schmalkalden in seeking assistance from France and England was to strengthen their position against a possible attack on the part of the Emperor; at the same time, by refusing to lend any assistance against the Turks, they rendered him powerless.

Luther now ventured to prophesy an era of peace. We shall have peace, he said, and there is no need to fear a war on account of religion. “But questions will arise concerning the bishoprics and the foundations,” as the Emperor is trying to get the rich bishoprics into his hands, and the other Princes likewise; “this will lead to quarrels and blows, for others also want their share.”[174] This confirms the observation made above: In place of a religious struggle the Princes preferred to wrangle over ecclesiastical property and rights, of which they were jealous. Thus Luther’s prediction concerning the character of the struggle in the years previous to the Schmalkalden and Thirty Years’ War was not so far wrong.

Luther and the Religious War in Later Years.

Luther was never afterwards to revert to his original disapproval of armed resistance to the Emperor.

In his private conversations we frequently find, on the contrary, frank admissions quite in agreement with the above remark on “war and rebellion” being justified by the Divine and indestructible Evangel. It is not only lawful, he says, but necessary to fight against the Emperor in the cause of the Evangel. “Should he begin a war against our religion, our worship and our Church, then he is a tyrant. Of this there is no question. Is it not lawful to fight in defence of piety? Even nature demands that we should take up arms in defence of our children and our families. Indeed, I shall, if possible, address a writing to the whole world exhorting all to the defence of their people.”[175]

Other similar statements are met with in his Table-Talk at a later date. “It is true a preacher ought not to fight in his own defence, for which reason I do not take a sword with me when I mount the pulpit, but only on journeys.”[176] “The lawyers,” he said, on February 7, 1538, “command us to resist the Emperor, simply desiring that a madman should be deprived of his sword.... The natural law requires that if one member injure another he be put under restraint, made a prisoner and kept in custody. But from the point of view of theology, there are doubts (Matt. v., 1 Peter ii.). I reply, however, that statecraft permits, nay commands, self-defence, so that whoever does not defend himself is regarded as his own murderer,” in spite of the fact, that, as a Christian and “believer in the Kingdom of Christ, he must suffer all things, and may not in this guise either eat or drink or beget children.” In many cases it is necessary to put away “the Christianum and bring to the fore the politicam personam,”[177] just as a man may slay incontinently the violator of his wife. “We are fighting, not against Saul, but against Absalom.” Besides, the Emperor might not draw the sword without the consent of the Seven Electors. “The sword belongs to us, and only at our request may he use it.”[178] “Without the seven he has no power; indeed, if even one is not for him, his power is nil and he is no longer monarch.... I do not deprive the Emperor of the sword, but the Pope, who has no business to lord it and act as a tyrant.”[179] “The Emperor will not commence a war on his own account but for the sake of the Pope, whose vassal he has become; he is only desirous of defending the abominations of the Pope, who hates the Gospel and thinks of nothing but his own godless power.”[180]

Luther, in his anger against the Papists and the priests, goes so far as to place them on a par with the Turks and to advise their being slaughtered;[181] this he did, for instance, in May, 1540. In 1539 he says: “Were I the Landgrave, I should set about it, and either perish or else slay them because they refuse peace in a good and just cause; but as a preacher it does not beseem me to counsel this, much less to do it myself.”[182] The Papal Legate, Paolo Vergerio, when with Luther in 1535, expressed to him his deep indignation at the deeds of King Henry VIII. of England, who had put to death Cardinal John Fisher and Sir Thomas More. Luther wrote to Melanchthon of Vergerio’s wrath and his threats against the King, but shared his feelings so little as actually to say: “Would that there were a few more such kings of England to put to death these cardinals, popes and legates, these traitors, thieves, robbers, nay, devils incarnate.” Such as they, he says, plunder and rob the churches and are worse than a hundred men of the stamp of Verres or a thousand of that of Dionysius. “How is it that Princes and lords, who are always complaining to us of the injury done to the churches, endure it?”[183]

Even in official memoranda Luther soon threw all discretion to the winds, and ventured to speak most strongly in favour of armed resistance.

Such was the memorandum, of January, 1539, addressed to the Elector Johann Frederick and signed at Weimar by Jonas, Bucer and Melanchthon, as well as Luther. The Elector had asked for it owing to the dangerous position of the League of Schmalkalden, now that peace had been concluded between the Emperor and Francis I. of France. He had also enquired how far the allies might take advantage of the war with the Turks; and whether they might make their assistance against the Turks contingent upon certain concessions being granted to the new worship. The second question will be dealt with later;[184] as to the first, whether resistance to the Emperor was allowed, the signatories replied affirmatively in words which go further than any previous admission.[185]

They had already, they say, “given their answer and opinion, and there was no doubt that this was the Divine truth which we are bound to confess even at the hour of death, viz. that not only is defence permitted, but a protest is verily, and indeed, incumbent on all.” Here it will be observed that Luther no longer says merely that the lawyers inferred this from the Imperial law, but that God, “to Whom we owe this duty,” commanded that “idolatry and forbidden worship” should not be tolerated. Numerous references to the “Word of God” regarding the authorities were adduced in support of this contention (Ps. lxxxii. 3; Exod. xx. 7; Ps. ii. 10, 11; 1 Tim. i. 9). It is pointed out how in the Sacred Books the “Kings of Juda are praised for exterminating idolatry.” “Every father is bound to protect his wife and child from murder, and there is no difference between a private murderer and the Emperor, should he attempt unjust violence outside his office.” The case is on all fours with one where the “overlord tries to impose on his subjects blasphemy and idolatry,” hence war must be waged, just as “Constantine fell upon Licinius, his ally and brother-in-law.” David, Ezechias and other holy kings likewise risked life and limb for the honour of God. “This is all to be understood as referring to defence.” But “where the ban has been proclaimed against one or more of the allies,” “discord has already broken out.” Those under the ban have lost “position and dignity,” and may commence the attack without further ado. Still, “it is not for us to assume that hostilities should be commenced at once”; this is the business of those actually concerned.

Such was the advice of Luther and those mentioned above to the Elector, when he was about to attend a meeting of the League of Schmalkalden at Frankfurt, where another attempt was to be made to prevent the outbreak of hostilities by negotiations with the Emperor’s ministers. Luther was apprehensive of war as likely to lead to endless misfortunes, yet his notion that “idolatry” must be rooted out would allow of no yielding on his part. “It is almost certain that this memorandum was made use of at the negotiations preliminary to the Frankfurt conference, seeing that the Elector in the final opinion he addressed to his councillors repeats it almost word for word.”[186] The memorandum was probably drawn up by Melanchthon.

At that very time Luther seems also to have received news from Brandenburg that Joachim II., the Elector, was about to Protestantise his lands. Such tidings would naturally make him all the more defiant.

Joachim, in spite of his sympathies for Lutheranism, had hitherto refrained from formally embracing it, not wishing to come into conflict with the Emperor. In 1539, however, he publicly apostatised, casting to the winds all his earlier promises. As Calvin wrote to Farel, in November, 1539, Joachim had informed the Landgrave Philip of Hesse, his chief tempter, that he had now made up his mind to “accept the Gospel and to exterminate Popery,”[187] and this he did with the best will, though he took no part in the Schmalkalden War against the Emperor. In his case politics and a disinclination to make war on the Emperor were the determining factors.

While Joachim was still quietly pursuing his subversive plans in the March of Brandenburg, the ever-recurring question was already being discussed anew amongst the Lutherans in that quarter, viz. whether Luther had not previously, and with greater justice, declared himself against resistance, and whether he was not therefore hostile to the spirit of the League of Schmalkalden.

A nobleman, Caspar von Kokeritz, probably one of Joachim’s advisers, requested Luther to furnish the Protestant preacher at Cottbus, Johann Ludicke, with a fresh opinion on the lawfulness of resistance. The request was justified by the difference between Luther’s earlier standpoint—which was well known at Cottbus—and that which he had more recently adopted. From the difficulty Luther sought to escape in a strongly worded letter to Ludicke, dated February 8, 1539, which is in several ways remarkable.[188]

In this letter the lawyers and the Princes again loom very large. They had most emphatically urged the employment of force, and “very strong reasons exist against my opposing this desire and plan of our party.” In his earlier memorandum[189] he had been thinking of the Emperor as Emperor, but now he had come to look on him as what he really was, viz. as a mere “hireling” of the Pope. The Pope is desirous of carrying out his “diabolical wickedness” with the help of the Emperor. “Hence, if it is lawful to fight against the Turks and to defend ourselves against them, how much more so against the Pope, who is worse?” Still, he was willing to stand by his earlier opinion, provided only that Pope, Cardinals and Emperor would admit that they were all of them the devil’s own servants; “then my advice will be the same as before, viz. that we yield to the heathen tyrants.” Other reasons too had led him, so he says, to discard his previous opinion, but he is loath to commit them to writing for fear lest something might reach the ears of “those abominable ministers of Satan.” Instead, he launches out into biblical proofs, urging that the “German Princes,” who together with the Emperor governed the realm, “communi consilio,” had more right to withstand the Emperor than the Jewish people when they withstood Saul, or those others who, in the Old Testament, resisted the authorities, and yet met with the Divine approval. The constitution of the Empire might not be altered by the Emperor, “who is not the monarch,” and “least of all in the devil’s cause. He may not be aware that it is this cause that he is furthering, but we know for certain that it is. Let what I have said be enough for you, and leave the rest to the teaching of the Spirit. Let your exhortation be to ‘render unto the Kaiser the things that are the Kaiser’s.’ Ceterum secretum meum mihi.”[190]

It is not difficult from the above to guess the “secret”: it was the impending apostasy of the Electorate of Brandenburg.

Luther had already several times come into contact with Joachim II. The Elector’s mother was friendly with him and came frequently to Wittenberg. Concerning her foes Luther once wrote to Jonas: “May the Lord Jesus give me insight and eloquence against the darts of Satan.”[191] In his letter of congratulation to the Elector on his apostasy he hints more plainly at the opponents to whom he had referred darkly in his letter to Ludicke: “I am less concerned about the subtlety of the serpents than about the growl of the lion, which perchance, coming from those in high places, may disquiet your Electoral Highness.”[192]

When the religious war of Schmalkalden at last broke out, the foes of Wittenberg recalled Luther’s biblical admonitions in 1530 against the use of arms in the cause of the Gospel, which Cochlæus had already collected and published. These they caused to be several times reprinted (1546), with the object of showing the injustice of the protesters’ attitude by the very words of the Reformer, who had died just before. The Wittenberg theologians replied (1547), but their answer only added to the tangle of the network of evasions. As a counter-blast they printed Luther’s later memoranda, or “Conclusions,” in favour of the use of force, adding prefaces by Melanchthon and Bugenhagen; where the prefaces come to deal with the awkward statement made by Luther in 1530, the writers have recourse to the device of questioning its authenticity; this Melanchthon does merely incidentally, Bugenhagen of set purpose.[193] According to Bugenhagen, who, as a matter of fact, had himself assisted in drawing up the statement, it deserved to be relegated to the domain of fiction; Luther’s enemies, he says, had fabricated the document in order to injure the Evangel. He even asserted that he could quote Luther’s own assurances in this matter; according to Caspar Cruciger, Luther had declared in his presence that the memorandum of 1530 had not “emanated” from him, though “carried the rounds by his enemies.” Bugenhagen was unable to understand, so he says, how his own name came to be there, and repeatedly he speaks of the document as the “alleged” letter. He also tells us that he had repudiated it as early as 1531, immediately after its publication by Cochlæus; if this be true, then it is difficult to explain away his denial as due to mere forgetfulness. His statements are altogether at variance with what we are told by the physician, Matth. Ratzeberger, Luther’s friend, who was always opposed to the war, and who, in his tract of 1552, “A Warning against Unrighteous Ways,” etc., blames Bugenhagen for his repudiation of Luther’s authority.[194] From the above it is evident that we have no right to praise Bugenhagen, as has been done in modern days, “for the fire with which he was wont to advocate the truth.” Regarding Melanchthon’s love of truth we shall have more to say later.

On looking back over the various statements made by Luther concerning armed resistance, we cannot fail to be struck by their diversity; the testimony they afford is the reverse of favourable to their author’s consistency and honesty.

By his very nature Luther felt himself drawn to proclaim the right of armed resistance in the cause of the Evangel. Of this feeling we have indications even at an early date in certain unguarded outbursts which were repeated at intervals in such a way as to leave no doubt as to his real views. Yet, until 1530, his official and public statements, particularly to the Princes, speak quite a different language. The divergence was there and it was impossible to get rid of it either by explanation or by denial. As soon as things seemed about to lead inevitably to war, Luther saw that the time had come to cast moderation to the winds. He was unwilling to sacrifice his whole life-work, and the protesting Estates had no intention of relinquishing their new rights and privileges. Formerly it had seemed advisable and serviceable to the spread of the Evangel to clothe it in the garb of submissiveness to the supreme authority of the Empire and of patient endurance for the sake of truth, but, after the Diet of Augsburg such considerations no longer held good. Overcoming whatever hesitation he still felt, Luther yielded to the urgings of the secular politicians.

From that time his memoranda assumed a different character. At the commencement of the change their wording betrays the difficulties with which Luther found himself faced when called upon to reconcile his later with his earlier views. It was, however, not long before his combative temper completely got the better of his scruples in Luther’s writings and letters.

Nothing is more unhistorical than to imagine that his guiding idea was “By the Word only,” in the sense of deprecating all recourse to earthly weapons and desiring that the Word should prevail simply by its own inherent strength. He had spoken out his real mind when he said, in 1522: “Every power must yield to the Evangel, whether willingly or unwillingly,” and again, in 1530, “Let things take their course ... even though it come to war or revolt.” Only on these lines can we explain his action. His firm conviction of his own Divine mission (below, xvi.) confirms this assumption.

4. The Turks Without and the Turks [Papists] Within the Empire

The stupendous task of repelling the onslaught of the Turkish power, which had cost Western Christendom such great sacrifices in the past, was, at the commencement of the third decade of the sixteenth century, the most pressing one for both Hungary and the German Empire.

Sultan Suleiman the Second’s lust for conquest had, since 1520, become a subject of the gravest misgivings in the West. With the help of his countless warlike hordes he had, in 1521, taken Belgrad, the strong outpost of the Christian powers, and, after a terrible struggle, on December 25 of the following year, captured from the Knights of St. John the strategically so important island of Rhodes. There now seemed every likelihood of these victories being followed up. The Kingdom of Hungary, which so long and gloriously had stemmed the inroads of the infidel into Christendom, now felt itself unable to cope single-handed with the enemy and accordingly appealed to the Emperor for help.

At the Diet of Nuremberg, in 1524, the Imperial Abschied of April 18 held out a promise of assistance in the near future, and even instanced tentatively the means to be adopted by the Empire. In the meantime appeals were to be made to the other Christian powers for help, so that the final resolutions concerning the plan of defence might be discussed and settled at the Spires Convention on November 11 of the same year.

Luther thought it his duty to interfere in these preparations.

Against Assistance for the Turkish War.

The Diet of Nuremberg had re-enacted the Edict of Worms against Luther. It had requested the Pope to summon a “free, general Council” in some suitable spot in Germany[195] “in order that good may not be overborne by evil, and that true believers and subjects of Christ may be brought to a firm belief in a common faith.” Incensed by the renewal of the Edict of Worms against his doctrine and person, Luther at once published an angry work, “Zwey keyserliche uneynige und wydderwertige Gepott” (1524),[196] in which he declared himself against the granting of any help whatever against the Turks.

He begins by saying of the authors of the new decree against Lutheranism, that surely even “pigs and donkeys could see how blindly and obstinately they were acting; it is abominable that the Emperor and the Princes should openly deal in lies.” After a lengthy discussion of the decree, he comes to the question of the help which was so urgently needed in order to repel the Turks; he says: “Finally I beg of you all, dear Christians, that you will join in praying to God for those miserable, blinded Princes, whom no doubt God Himself has placed over us as a curse, that we may not follow them against the Turks, or give money for this undertaking; for the Turks are ten times cleverer and more devout than are our Princes. How can such fools, who tempt and blaspheme God so greatly, expect to be successful against the Turks?”[197]

His chief reason for refusing help against the Turks was the blasphemy against God of which the Princes of the Empire, and the Emperor, had rendered themselves guilty by withstanding his Evangel.

He declares, “I would ten times rather be dead than listen to such blasphemy and insolence against the Divine Majesty.... God deliver us from them, and give us, in His mercy, other rulers. Amen.”—The Emperor himself he charges with presumption for daring—agreeably with age-long custom—to style himself the chief Protector of the Christian faith. “Shamelessly does the Emperor boast of this, he who is after all but a perishable bag of worms, and not sure of his life for one moment.” The Divine power of the faith has surely no need of a protector, he says; he scoffs at him and at the King of England, who styles himself Defender of the Faith; would that all pious Christians “would take pity upon such mad, foolish, senseless, raving, witless fools.”[198]

Even in the midst of the storm caused by his Indulgence Theses, Luther had already opposed the lending of any assistance against the Turks. A sermon preached in the winter of 1518, in which he took this line, was circulated[199] by his friends. When Spalatin enquired of him in the Elector’s name whether the Turkish War—for which Cardinal Cajetan was just then asking for help—could be justified by Holy Scripture, Luther replied, that the contrary could be proved from many passages; that the Bible was full of the unhappy results of wars undertaken in reliance on human means; that those wars alone were successful where heaven fought for the people; that now it was impossible to count upon victory in view of the corruption of Christendom and the tyranny and the hostility to Christ displayed by the Roman Church; on the contrary, God was fighting against them;[200] He must first be propitiated by tears, prayer, amendment of life and a pure faith. In the Resolutions on the Indulgence Theses we find the same antipathy to the war, again justified on similar mystical and polemical grounds.

His words in the Resolutions were even embodied by Rome in one of the propositions condemned on the proclamation of the ban: “To fight against the Turks is to withstand God, Who is using them for the punishment of our sins.”[201]

When, later, he came to approve of and advocate the war against the Turks, he declared, quite frankly: “I am open to confess that such an article was mine, and was advanced and defended by me in the past.”

He adds that he would be ready to defend it even now were things in the same state as then.—But where did he discern any difference? According to him, people then, before he had instructed them concerning its origin and office, had no idea of what secular authority really was. “Princes and lords who desired to be pious, looked upon their position and office as of no account, not as being the service of God, and became mere priests and monks.” But then he had written his “Von welltlicher Uberkeytt” (1523). Having reinstated the secular authority, so long “smothered and neglected,” he was loath to see it summoned against the Turks by the Pope. Besides, he is quite confident that the Pope had never been in earnest about the Turkish War; his real aim was to enrich his exchequer.[202]

Luther also explains that from the first he had been inclined to oppose the granting of any aid against the Turks on the theological ground embodied in his condemned proposition, viz. that God visits our sins upon us by means of the Turks. Here again he will not admit himself to have been in the wrong, for Christians must “endure wrong, violence or injustice ... not resist evil, but allow and suffer all things” as the Gospel teaches. Characteristically enough, he appeals to that “piece of Christian doctrine” according to which the Christian is to offer his left cheek to him who smites him on the right, and leave his cloak to the man who takes away his coat. Now, what our Lord taught in His Sermon on the Mount (Matt. v. 39 f.), was not, as he had already pointed out, a mere counsel of perfection, but a real command; but the “Pope with his schools and convents had made of this a counsel which it was permissible not to keep, and which a Christian might neglect, and had thus distorted the words of Christ, taught the whole world a falsehood, and cheated Christians.”[203] A way out of the fatal consequences which must ensue, Luther fancies he is able to find in the distinction between the true Christian and mere worldly citizen; it was not incumbent on the latter to perform everything that was binding on the former.

Previous to writing his “Von welltlicher Uberkeytt,” referred to above, he had again publicly expressed himself as opposed to the efforts of the Empire on behalf of the Turkish War; though no longer because the authorities lacked a right sense of their office, or because Christ’s counsel made submission a duty, but for quite another reason: Before taking any steps against the Turks it was necessary to resist the impious dominion of the Pope, compared with which the danger from the Turks paled into insignificance. “To what purpose is it,” he wrote in 1522, “to oppose the Turk? What harm does the Turk do? He invades a country and becomes its secular ruler.... The Turk also leaves each one free to believe as he pleases.” In both respects the Pope is worse; his invasions are more extensive, and, at the same time, he slays the souls, so that “as regards both body and soul the government of the Pope is ten times worse than that of the Turk.... If ever the Turks were to be exterminated it would be necessary first to begin with the Pope.” The Christian method of withstanding the Turks would be to “preach the Gospel to them.”[204] This paved the way for his warning, in 1524, against complying with the Emperor’s call for assistance in fighting the Turks (above, p. 77).

Such exhortations not to wage war against the Turks naturally tended to confuse the multitude to the last degree.

Incautious Lutheran preachers also did their share in stirring up high and low against the burden of taxes imposed by the wars. Hence it was quite commonly alleged against the instigator of the religious innovations that, mainly owing to his action after the Diet of Spires, there was a general reluctance to grant the necessary supplies, though the clouds on the eastern horizon of the Empire were growing ever blacker. After the horrible disaster at Mohacz, in 1526, Luther therefore found it necessary to exculpate himself before the public.

In Favour of Assistance for the Turkish War.

Luther gradually arrived at the decision that it was his duty to put his pen at the service of the war against the Turks.

A change took place in his attitude similar to that which had occurred in 1525 at the time of the Peasant Rising, which his words, and those of the Reformed preachers, had done not a little to further.

His friends, he says in 1529, “because the Turk was now so near,” had insisted on his finishing a writing against them which had already been commenced; “more particularly because of some unskilful preachers among us Germans, who, I regret to learn, are teaching the people that they must not fight against the Turks.” Some, he writes, also taught, that “it was not becoming for any Christian to wield the sword”; others went so far as to look forward to the coming of the Turks and their rule. “And such error and malice amongst the people is all placed at Luther’s door, as the fruit of my Evangel; in the same way that I had to bear the blame of the revolt [of the peasants].... Hence I am under the necessity of writing on the matter and of exculpating us, both for my own sake and for that of the Evangel ... in order that innocent consciences may not continue to be deceived by such calumnies, and be rendered suspicious of me and my teaching, or be wrongly led to believe that they must not fight against the Turks.”[205]

In February, 1528, Suleiman II. was in a position to demand that King Ferdinand should evacuate Buda-Pesth, the capital; it was already feared that his threat of visiting Ferdinand in Austria might be all too speedily fulfilled. The Sultan actually commenced, in the spring of 1529, his great campaign, which brought him to the very walls of Vienna. The city, however, defended itself with such heroism that the enemy was at last compelled to withdraw.

In April, 1529, when the reports of the danger which menaced Austria had penetrated throughout the length and breadth of Germany, Luther at last published the writing above referred to, viz. “On the Turkish War.”

The booklet he dedicated to that zealous patron of the Reformation, Landgrave Philip of Hesse. In it his intention is to teach “how to fight with a good conscience.” He points out how the Emperor, as a secular ruler, must, agreeably with the office conferred on him by God, protect his subjects against the Turks, as against murderers and robbers, with the secular sword, which, however, has nothing to do with the faith. There were two who must wage the war, Christian and Charles; but Christian’s duty was merely that of the faithful everywhere who would pray for the success of the campaign; this was all that the believers, as such, had to do; Charles would fight, because the example of Charles the Great would encourage him to bear the sword bravely, but only against the Turks as robbers and disturbers of the peace; it would be no Crusade, such as had been undertaken against the infidel in the foolish days of old. Amongst the most powerful pages of the work are those in which, regardless of flattery, he impresses on the German Princes the need of union, of sacrifice of private interests and of obedience to the guidance of the Emperor, without which it was useless to hope for anything in the present critical condition of the Empire. He scourges with a like severity certain faults into which Germans were prone to fall when engaged in warfare, viz. to under-estimate the strength of the enemy, and to neglect following up their victories; instead of this, they would sit down and tipple until they again found themselves in straits.[206]

It does not, however, seem that these words of Luther’s on behalf of the war against the Turks raised any great enthusiasm among the people.

He again took up his pen, and this time more open-heartedly, when, on October 14, the hour of Vienna’s deliverance came and the last assault had been happily repulsed. The result was his “Heer-Predigt widder den Türcken” addressed to all the Germans. Here he sought to instruct them from Scripture concerning the Turks and the approaching Last Day. In stirring, homely words he exhorted them to rise and lend their assistance, pointing out that whoever fell in the struggle died a martyr. He fired the enthusiasm of his readers by even quoting the examples of the women and maidens in olden Germany. He also dwelt on the need of preserving the faith in captivity should it be the lot of any of the combatants to be taken prisoner, and even exhorted those who might be sold as slaves not to prove unfaithful by running away from their lawful masters. He consoled his readers at the same time with the thought, to which he ever attached such importance, that, after all, in Turkey the devil did not rage nearly so furiously against Christians as the devil at home, i.e. the Pope, who was forcing them to deny Christ.[207]

We likewise find attacks on the Catholic fraction of the German nation, mingled with exhortations to resist the Turks, in a Preface he composed in 1530, on the occasion of the republication of an older work dating from Catholic times, “On the Morals and Religion of the Turks.”[208]

The struggle raging in the heart of Germany, and the opposition of the Protestant Princes and Estates to the Emperor as head of the Realm, constituted the greatest obstacle to any scheme for united and vigorous action against the Turks. Hence to some extent Luther was indirectly responsible for the growth of the Ottoman Empire. On one occasion Luther gave vent to the following outburst: “Would that we Germans stood shoulder to shoulder, then it would be easy for us to resist the Turk. If we had 50,000 foot and 10,000 horse constantly in the field ... we could well withstand them and defend ourselves.”[209] The Sultan had, long before, taken into his calculations the dissensions created by Luther in the Empire.[210] On one occasion, about 1532, as we know from Luther’s “Talk Table,” Suleiman made enquiries of a German named Schmaltz, who was attached to an embassy, concerning Luther’s circumstances, and asked how old he was. To the answer that he was forty-eight years of age he replied: “I would he were still younger, for he would find a gracious master in me.” Luther, when this was reported to him, made the sign of the cross and said: “May God preserve me from such a gracious master.”[211]

Luther, as we shall see below, had occasion to write against the Turks even at a later date. His writings had, however, no widespread influence; they were read only by one portion of the German nation, being avoided by the rest as works of an arch-heretic. Many marvelled at his audacity in presuming to teach the whole nation, and at his speaking as though he had been the leader of the people. Catholics were inclined, as Luther himself complains, to regard the growth of the Turkish power as God’s chastisement for the apostasy of a part of Germany and for the Emperor’s remissness in the matter of heresy.

Even in his very tracts against the Turks, Luther did much to weaken the force of his call to arms. His aim should have been to inspire the people with enthusiasm and a readiness to sacrifice themselves, which might, in turn, have encouraged and fired the nobles; but, as the experience of earlier ages had already proved, religion alone was able to produce such a change in the temper of a nation. Protection for the common, spiritual heritage, defence of the religion and civilisation of the West, such was the only appeal which could have fired people’s minds. And it was this banner which the Church unfurled, both before and after Luther’s day, which had led to victory at the battle of Lepanto and again at the raising of the siege of Vienna. Luther, on the contrary, in his writing of 1529, repels so vehemently any idea of turning the contest with the infidel into a crusade, that he even has it that, “were I a soldier and descried on the field of battle a priestly banner, or one bearing a cross, or even a crucifix, I would turn and run as though the devil were at my heels; and, if, by God’s Providence, they nevertheless gained the victory, still I should take no share in the booty or the triumph.”[212]

To insure a favourable issue to the campaign it was also necessary that the position of the Emperor as head of Christendom should be recognised, and the feeling of common interest between the sovereigns and nations be kindled anew. Yet the progress of the innovations, and Luther’s own menacing attitude towards the Empire and the Catholic sovereigns, was contributing largely to shatter both the authority of the Empire and the old European unity, not to speak of the injury done to the Papal authority, to whose guidance the common welfare of Christendom had formerly been confided.

Luther allowed his polemics to blunt entirely the effect of his summons. As, however, what he says affords us an insight into the working of his mind, it is of interest to the psychologist.

In the second of the two writings referred to above, the “Heer-Predigt,” despite the general excellence of its contents, the constant harping on the nearness of the Last Day could not fail to exert an influence the reverse of that desired. At the very commencement he ventilates his views on the prophecies of Daniel; he likewise will have it that the prophecy concerning Gog and Magog in Ezechiel also refers to the Turks, and that we even read of them in the Apocalypse; their victories portended the end of all things. His last warnings run as follows: “In the end it will come about that the devil will attack Christendom with all his might and from every side.... Therefore let us watch and be valiant in a firm faith in Christ, and let each one be obedient to the authorities and see what God will do, leaving things to take their course; for there is nothing good to be hoped for any more.”[213] Such pessimism was scarcely calculated to awaken enthusiasm.

Nor does he conceal his fears lest a successful campaign against the Turks should lead the Emperor and the Catholic Princes to turn their arms against the Evangelicals, in order to carry out the Edict of Worms. He so frequently betrays this apprehension that we might almost be led to think that he regarded the Turkish peril as a welcome impediment, did we not know on the other hand how greatly he came to dread it as he advanced in years. This anxiety concerning possible intentions of the Catholics he felt so keenly in 1529 as to append to the second of his tracts on the Turkish War a peculiarly inappropriate monition, viz. that Germans “must not allow themselves to be made use of against the Evangel, or fight against or persecute Christians; for thus they would become guilty of innocent blood and be no better than the Turks.... In such a case no subject is in the least bound to obey the authorities, in fact, where this occurs, all authority is abrogated.”[214]

Injudicious considerations such as these are also to be found in the earlier tract; here, however, what is most astonishing is his obstinacy in re-affirming his earlier doctrine, already condemned by Rome, viz. that it was not becoming in Christians, as such, to resist the Turk by force of arms, seeing that God was using the Turks for the chastisement of Christendom. “As we refuse to learn from Scripture,” he says, speaking in his wonted mystical tone, “the Turk must teach us with the sword, until we learn by sad experience that Christians must not fight or resist evil. Fools’ backs must be dusted with the stick.”[215] He also expresses his misgivings because “Christians and Princes are so greatly urged, driven and incited to attack the Turks and fall upon them, before we have amended our own lives and begun to live as true Christians”; on this account “war was not to be recommended.”[216] Real amendment would have consisted in accepting the Lutheran Evangel. Yet, instead of embracing Lutheranism, “our Princes are negotiating how best to molest Luther and the Evangel; there, surely, is the real Turk.”[217] Because they had ordered fasts, and penitential practices, and Masses of the Holy Ghost, in order to implore God’s protection against the Turk, the Catholic Princes drew down upon themselves the following rebuke: “Shall God be gracious to you, faithless rulers of unfortunate subjects! What devil urges you to make such a fuss about spiritual matters, which are not your business, but concern God and the conscience alone, and to do the work God has committed to you and which does concern you and your poor people, so lazily and slothfully even in this time of the direst need, thus merely hindering those who would fain give you their help?”[218]

Here again he was promoting dissension, indeed, generally speaking, his exhortations were more a hindrance than a help; again and again he insists on entangling himself anew in his polemics against Popery, and this in spite of the urgent needs of Germany. Led by the Pope, the Catholic Princes have become “our tyrants,” who “imprison us, exercise compulsion, banish and burn us, behead and drown us and treat us worse than do the Turks.”[219]

“In short, wherever we go, the devil, our real landlord, is at home. If we visit the Turk, we find the devil; if we remain under the rule of the Pope, we fall into hell. There is nothing but devils on either side and everywhere.” Thus it must be with mankind, he says, referring to 2 Timothy iii. 1, when the world reaches its end.[220]

In “what manner I advise war on the Turk, this my booklet shall be witness.”[221]

Cochlæus, Luther’s opponent, collected the contradictions contained in the latter’s statements on the Turkish War, and published them in 1529 at Leipzig in the form of an amusing Dialogue. In this work one of the characters, Lutherus, attacks the war in Luther’s own words, the second, Palinodus, defends it, again with Lutheran phrases, whilst an ambassador of King Ferdinand plays the part of the interested enquirer. The work instances fifteen “contradictions.”[222]

Luther personally acted wisely, for it was of the utmost importance to him to destroy the impression that he stood in the way of united action against the Turks. This the Princes and Estates who protested at the Diet of Spires were far less willing to do. They cast aside all scruple and openly refused to lend their assistance against the Turks unless the enactment against the religious innovations were rescinded. It is true that Vienna was then not yet in any pressing danger, though, on the other hand, news had been received at Spires that the Turkish fleet was cruising off the coasts of Sicily. It was only later on in the year, when the danger of Austria and for the German Princes began to increase, that the Protesters showed signs of relenting. They also saw that, just then, their refusal to co-operate would be of no advantage to the new Church. Landgrave Philip of Hesse nevertheless persisted in his obstinate refusal to take any part in the defence of the Empire.

Philip made several attempts to induce Brück, the Chancellor of the Saxon Electorate, and Luther, to bring their influence to bear on the Elector Johann Frederick so that he might take a similar line. Brück was sufficiently astute to avoid making any promise. Luther did not venture openly to refuse, though his position as principal theological adviser would have qualified him to explain to the Landgrave the error of his way. In his reply he merely finds fault with the “Priesthood,” who “are so obstinate and defiant and trust in the Emperor and in human aid.” God’s assistance against the Turks may be reckoned on, but if it came to the point, and he were obliged to speak to the Elector, he would “advise for the best,” and, may God’s Will be done.[223]

When the Turks, in order to avenge the defeat they had suffered before the walls of Vienna, prepared for further attacks upon the West, frightful rumours began to spread throughout Germany, adding greatly to Luther’s trouble of mind. At the Coburg, where he then was, gloomy forebodings of the coming destruction of Germany at the hand of the Turk associated themselves with other disquieting considerations.

In one of his first letters from the Coburg he says to Melanchthon, Spalatin and Lindemann, who were then at the Diet of Augsburg: “My whole soul begins to revolt against the Turks and Mohammed, for I see the intolerable wrath of Satan who rages so proudly against the souls and bodies of men. I shall pray and weep and never rest until heaven hears my cry. You [at Augsburg] are suffering persecution from our monsters at home, but we have been chosen to witness and to suffer both woes [viz. Catholicism and the Turks] which are raging together and making their final onslaught. The onslaught itself proves and foretells their approaching end and our salvation.”[224]—“All we now await is the coming of Christ,” so he says on another occasion in one of his fits of fear; “verily, I fear the Turk will traverse it [Germany] from end to end.... How often do I think of the plight of our German land, how often do I sweat, because it will not hear me.”[225]

Lost in his eschatological dream and misled by his morbid apprehension, he wrote his Commentary on Ezechiel xxxviii.-xxxix., which was at once placed in the hands of the printer; here again he finds the mischief to be wrought by the Turks at the end of the world as plainly foretold as in the prophecy of Daniel, the Commentary on which he had published shortly before.[226]

Everywhere anxiety reigned supreme, for there were lacking both preparedness and unanimity. The Catholic Princes of the Empire were not much better than the rest. Petty interests and jealousies outweighed in many instances a sense of the common needs. At Spires, for instance, Duke George of Saxony stipulated, as a condition of any promise of assistance, that he should be given precedence over both the Dukes of Bavaria. While the Catholic Estates agreed, at the Diet of Augsburg, to the grants for the war against the Turks, the Protestant Estates were not to be induced to give a favourable decision until the Emperor had sanctioned the so-called religious Peace of Nuremberg in 1532.[227]

In the summer of that same year Suleiman passed Buda-Pesth with 300,000 men. Thence he continued his march along the Danube with the intention of taking Vienna, this time at any cost. The Emperor Charles V. hurried in person to command the great army which was collecting near Vienna; the Sultan was to be encountered and a decisive battle fought. Throughout the Empire the greatest enthusiasm for the cause prevailed. The Electoral Prince, Joachim of Brandenburg, was nominated by the Emperor to the command of the troops of the Saxon lowlands, since this country had not been unanimous in the choice of a Captain, probably owing to the religious dissensions.