Chapter XXI

PRINCELY MARRIAGES

1. Luther and Henry VIII of England. Bigamy instead of Divorce

In King Henry the Eighth’s celebrated matrimonial controversy the Roman See by its final decision was energetically to vindicate the cause of justice, in spite of the fear that this might lead to the loss of England to Catholicism. The considered judgment was clear and definite: Rather than countenance the King’s divorce from Queen Catherine, or admit bigamy as lawful, the Roman Church was prepared to see the falling away of the King and larger portion of the realm.[1]

In the summer, 1531, Luther was drawn into the controversy raging round the King’s marriage, by an agent of King Henry’s. Robert Barnes, an English Doctor of Divinity who had apostatised from the Church and was residing at Wittenberg, requested of Luther, probably at the King’s instigation, an opinion regarding the lawfulness of his sovereign’s divorce.

To Luther it was clear enough that there was no possibility of questioning the validity of Catherine’s marriage. It rightly appeared to him impossible that the Papal dispensation, by virtue of which Catherine of Aragon had married the King after having been the spouse of his deceased brother, should be represented as sufficient ground for a divorce. This view he expressed with praiseworthy frankness in the written answer he gave Barnes.[2]

At the same time, however, Luther pointed out to the King a loophole by which he might be able to succeed in obtaining the object of his desire; by this concession, unfortunately, he branded his action as a pandering to the passions of an adulterous King. At the conclusion of his memorandum to Barnes he has the following: “Should the Queen be unable to prevent the divorce, she must accept the great evil and most insulting injustice as a cross, but not in any way acquiesce in it or consent to it. Better were it for her to allow the King to wed another Queen, after the example of the Patriarchs, who, in the ages previous to the law, had many wives; but she must not consent to being excluded from her conjugal rights or to forfeiting the title of Queen of England.”[3]

It has been already pointed out that Luther, in consequence of his one-sided study of the Old Testament, had accustomed himself more and more to regard bigamy as something lawful.[4] That, however, he had so far ever given his formal consent to it in any particular instance there is no proof. In the case of Henry VIII, Luther felt less restraint than usual. His plain hint at bigamy as a way out of the difficulty was intended as a counsel (“suasimus”). Hence we can understand why he was anxious that his opinion should not be made too public.[5] When, in the same year (1531), he forwarded to the Landgrave of Hesse what purported to be a copy of the memorandum, the incriminating passage was carefully omitted.[6]

Melanchthon, too, had intervened in the affair, and had gone considerably further than Luther in recommending recourse to bigamy and in answering possible objections to polygamy.

In a memorandum of Aug. 23, Melanchthon declared that the King was entirely justified in seeking to obtain the male heirs with whom Catherine had failed to present him; this was demanded by the interests of the State. He endeavours to show that polygamy is not forbidden by Divine law; in order to avoid scandal it was, however, desirable that the King “should request the Pope to sanction his bigamy, permission being granted readily enough at Rome.” Should the Pope refuse to give the dispensation, then the King was simply and of his own authority to have recourse to bigamy, because in that case the Pope was not doing his duty, for he was “bound in charity to grant this dispensation.”[7] “Although I should be loath to allow polygamy generally, yet, in the present case, on account of the great advantage to the kingdom and perhaps to the King’s conscience, I would say: The King may, with a good conscience (‘tutissimum est regi’), take a second wife while retaining the first, because it is certain that polygamy is not forbidden by the Divine law, nor is it so very unusual.” Melanchthon’s ruthless manner of proceeding undoubtedly had a great influence on the other Wittenbergers, even though it cannot be maintained, as has been done, that he, and not Luther, was the originator of the whole theory; there are too many clear and definite earlier statements of Luther’s in favour of polygamy to disprove this. Still, it is true that the lax opinion broached by Melanchthon in favour of the King of England played a great part later in the matter of the bigamy of the Landgrave of Hesse.[8]

In the same year, however, there appeared a work on matrimony by the Lutheran theologian Johann Brenz in which, speaking generally and without reference to this particular case, he expressed himself very strongly against the lawfulness of polygamy. “The secular authorities,” so Brenz insists, “must not allow any of their subjects to have two or more wives,” they must, on the contrary, put into motion the “penalties of the Imperial Laws” against polygamy; no pastor may “bless or ratify” such marriages, but is bound to excommunicate the offenders.[9] Strange to say, the work appeared with a Preface by Luther in which, however, he neither praises nor blames this opinion.[10]

The Strasburg theologians, Bucer and Capito, as well as the Constance preacher, Ambrosius Blaurer, also stood up for the lawfulness of bigamy. When, however, this reached the ears of the Swiss theologians, Œcolampadius, in a letter of Aug. 20, exclaimed: “They were inclined to consent to the King’s bigamy! But far be it from us to hearken more to Mohammed in this matter than to Christ!”[11]

In spite of the alluring hint thrown out at Wittenberg, the adulterous King, as everyone knows, did not resort to bigamy. It was Henry the Eighth’s wish to be rid of his wife, and, having had her removed, he regarded himself as divorced. After the King had repudiated Catherine, Luther told his friends: “The Universities [i.e. those which sided with the English King] have declared that there must be a divorce. We, however, and the University of Louvain, decided differently.... We [viz. Luther and Melanchthon] advised the Englishman that it would be better for him to take a concubine than to distract his country and nation; yet in the end he put her away.”[12]

When Clement VII declared the first marriage to be valid and indissoluble, and also refused to countenance any bigamy, Henry VIII retorted by breaking with the Church of Rome, carrying his country with him. For a while Clement had hesitated on the question of bigamy, since, in view of Cardinal Cajetan’s opinion to the contrary, he found it difficult to convince himself that a dispensation could not be given, and because he was personally inclined to be indulgent and friendly; finally, however, he gave Bennet, the English envoy, clearly to understand that the dispensation was not in his power to grant.[13] That he himself was not sufficiently versed in Canon Law, the Pope repeatedly admitted. “It will never be possible to allege the attitude of Clement VII as any excuse for the Hessian affair” (Ehses). It is equally impossible to trace the suggestion of bigamy back to the opinions prevailing in mediæval Catholicism.[14] No mediæval pope or confessor can be instanced who sanctioned bigamy, while there are numbers of theologians who deny the Pope’s power to grant such dispensations; many even describe this negative opinion as the “sententia communis.”[15]

Of Cardinal Cajetan, the only theologian of note on the opposite side (see above, vol. iii., p. 261), W. Köhler remarks, alluding particularly to the recent researches of N. Paulus: “It never entered Cardinal Cajetan’s head to deny that the ecclesiastical law categorically forbids polygamy.”[16] Further: “Like Paulus, we may unhesitatingly admit that, in this case, it would have been better for Luther had he had behind him the guiding authority of the Church.”[17]

Henry VIII, as was only natural, sought to make the best use of the friendship of the Wittenberg professors and Princes of the Schmalkalden League, against Rome and the Emperor. He despatched an embassy, though his overtures were not as successful as he might have wished.

We may describe briefly the facts of the case.

The Schmalkalden Leaguers, from the very inception of the League, had been seeking the support both of England and of France. In 1535 they made a determined effort to bring about closer relations with Henry VIII, and, at the Schmalkalden meeting, the latter made it known that he was not unwilling to “join the Christian League of the Electors and Princes.” Hereupon he was offered the “title and standing of patron and protector of the League.” The political negotiations nevertheless miscarried, owing to the King’s excessive demands for the event of an attack on his Kingdom.[18] The project of an alliance with the King of Denmark, the Duke of Prussia, and with Saxony and Hesse, for the purpose of a war against the Emperor, also came to nothing.

In these negotiations the Leaguers wanted first of all to reach an agreement with Henry in the matter of religion, whereas the latter insisted that political considerations should have the first place.

In the summer, 1535, Robert Barnes, the English plenipotentiary, was raising great and exaggerated hopes in Luther’s breast of Henry’s making common cause with the Wittenberg reformers.

Into his plans Luther entered with great zest, and consented to Melanchthon’s being sent to England as his representative, for the purpose of further negotiations. As we now know from a letter of recommendation of Sep. 12, 1535, first printed in 1894, he recommended Barnes to the Chancellor Brück for an interview with the Elector, and requested permission for Melanchthon to undertake the journey to England. Joyfully he points out that “now the King offers to accept the Evangel, to join the League of our Princes and to allow our ‘Apologia’ entry into his Kingdom.” Such an opportunity must not be allowed to slip, for “the Papists will be in high dudgeon.” Quite possibly God may have something in view.[19]

In England hopes were entertained that these favourable offers would induce a more friendly attitude towards the question of Henry’s divorce. Concerning this Luther merely says in the letter cited: “In the matter of the royal marriage, the ‘suspensio’ has already been decided,” without going into any further particulars; he, however, reserves the case to be dealt with by the theologians exclusively.

In August, 1535, Melanchthon had dedicated one of his writings to the King of England, and had, on this occasion, lavished high praise on him. It was probably about this time that the King sent the presents to Wittenberg, to which Catherine Bora casually alludes in the Table-Talk. “Philip received several gifts from the Englishman, in all five hundred pieces of gold; for our own part we got at least fifty.”[20]

Melanchthon took no offence at the cruel execution of Sir Thomas More or at the other acts of violence already perpetrated by Henry VIII; on the contrary, he gave his approval to the deeds of the royal tyrant, and described it as a commandment of God “to use strong measures against fanatical and godless men.”[21] The sanguinary action of the English tyrant led Luther to express the wish, that a similar fate might befall the heads of the Catholic Church at Rome. In the very year of Bishop Fisher’s execution he wrote to Melanchthon: “It is easy to lose our tempers when we see what traitors, thieves, robbers, nay devils incarnate the Cardinals, the Popes and their Legates are. Alas that there are not more Kings of England to put them to death!”[22] He also refers to the alleged horrors practised by the Pope’s tools in plundering the Church, and asks: “How can the Princes and Lords put up with it?”

In Dec., 1535, a convention of the Schmalkalden Leaguers, at Melanchthon’s instance, begged the envoys despatched by Henry, who were on their way to Wittenberg, to induce their master to promote the Confession of Augsburg—unless, indeed, as they added with unusual consideration, “they and the King should be unanimous in thinking that something in the Confession might be improved upon or made more in accordance with the Word of God.”[23]

Just as in the advances made by the King to Wittenberg “the main point had been to obtain a favourable pronouncement from the German theologians in the matter of his divorce,” so too in consenting to discuss the Confession of Augsburg he was actuated by the thought that this would lead to a discussion on the Papal power and the question of the divorce, i.e. to those points which the King had so much at heart.[24]

On the arrival immediately after of the envoys at Wittenberg they had the satisfaction of learning from Luther and his circle, that the theologians had already changed their minds in the King’s favour concerning the lawfulness of marriage with a brother’s widow. Owing to the influence of Osiander, whom Henry VIII had won over to his side, they now had come to regard such marriages as contrary to the natural moral law. Hence Henry’s new marriage might be considered valid. They were not, however, as yet ready to draw this last inference from the invalidity of the previous marriage between the King and Catherine.[25]

Luther, however, became more and more convinced that marriage with a brother’s widow was invalid; in 1542, for instance, on the assumption of the invalidity of such a union, he unhesitatingly annulled the marriage of a certain George Schud, as a “devilish abomination” (“abominatio diaboli”).[26]

The spokesman of the English mission, Bishop Edward Fox, demanded from Luther the admission that the King had separated from his first wife “on very just grounds.” Luther, however, would only agree that he had done so “on very many grounds.” He said later, in conversation, that his insistence on this verbal nicety had cost him three hundred Gulden, which he would have received from England in the event of his compliance. [27] He cannot indeed be accused of having been, from ecclesiastico-political motives, too hasty in gratifying the King’s demands in the matter of the divorce. Yet, on the other hand, it is not unlikely that the desire to pave the way for a practical understanding was one of the motives for his mode of action. His previous outspoken declarations against any dissolution of the Royal marriage compelled him to assume an attitude not too strongly at variance with his earlier opinion.

After the new marriage had taken place negotiations with England continued, principally with the object of securing such acceptance of the new doctrine as might lead to a politico-religious alliance between that country and the Schmalkalden Leaguers. Luther, however, stubbornly refused to concede anything to the King in the matter of his chief doctrines, for instance, regarding Justification or the rejection of the Mass.

The articles agreed upon at the lengthy conferences held during the early months of 1536—and made public only in 1905 (see above, p. 9, n. 4)—failed to satisfy the King, although they displayed a very conciliatory spirit. Melanchthon outdid himself in his endeavour to render the Wittenberg teaching acceptable. “It is true that the main points of faith were not sacrificed,” remarks the discoverer and editor of the articles in question, “but the desire to please noticeable in their form, even in such questions as those concerning the importance of good works, monasteries, etc., is nevertheless surprising.”[28] Luther himself, in a letter of April 29, 1536, to the Electoral Vice-Chancellor Burkhard, spoke of the concessions made in these articles as the final limit; to go further would be to concede to the King of England what had been refused to the Pope and the Emperor; “at Augsburg [in 1530] we might have come to terms more easily with the Pope and the Emperor, nay, perhaps we might do so even now.” To enter into an ecclesiastico-political alliance with the English would, he considers, be “dangerous,” for the Schmalkalden Leaguers “were not all of one mind”; hence the (theological) articles ought first to be accepted; the League was, however, a secular matter and therefore he would beg the “beloved Lords and my Gracious Master to consider” whether they could accept it without a previous agreement being reached on the point of theology.[29]

Though Luther and the Princes set great store on the projected alliance, on account of the increase of strength it would have brought the German Evangelicals, yet their hopes were to be shattered, for the articles above referred to did not find acceptance in England. Luther was later on to declare that everything had come to nought because King Henry wished to be head of the Protestants in Germany, which the Elector of Saxony would not permit: “Let the devil take the great Lords! This rogue (‘is nebulo’) wanted to be proclaimed head of our religion, but to this the Elector would in no wise agree; we did not even know what sort of belief he had.”[30] Probably the King demanded a paramount influence in the Schmalkalden League, and the German Princes were loath to be deprived of the direction of affairs.

After all hopes of an agreement had vanished Henry VIII made no secret of his antipathy for the Lutheran teaching.

The quondam Defender of the Faith even allowed himself to be carried away to acts of bloodshed. In 1540 he caused Luther’s friend, Robert Barnes, the agent already referred to, to be burnt at the stake as a heretic. Barnes had adopted the Lutheran doctrine of Justification. It was not on this account alone, however, that he was obnoxious to the King, but also because the latter had grown weary of Anne of Cleves, whom Barnes and Thomas Cromwell, the King’s favourite, had given him as a fourth consort, after Anne Boleyn and Jane Seymour. Cromwell, though not favourably disposed to Lutheranism, was executed a few days before. On April 9, 1536, Luther had written to Cromwell a very polite letter, couched in general terms,[31] in answer to a courteous missive from that statesman handed to him by Barnes. From Luther’s letter we see that Cromwell “had been described to him in too favourable a light,”[32] as though predisposed to the Lutheran doctrine or to regard Luther as a divinely sent teacher. Luther deceived himself if he fancied that Cromwell was ready to “work for the cause”; the latter remained as unfriendly to Lutheranism proper as the King himself.

In the year of Barnes’s execution Melanchthon wrote the letter to Veit Dietrich in which he expresses the pious wish, that God would send a brave murderer to bring the King to the end he deserved.[33]

Luther, on his side, declared: “The devil himself rides astride this King”; “I am glad that we have no part in his blasphemy.” He boasted, so Luther says, of being head of the Church of England, a title which no bishop, much less a King, had any right to, more particularly one who with his crew had “vexed and tortured Christ and His Church.”[34] In 1540 Luther spoke sarcastically of the King’s official title: “Under Christ the supreme head on earth of the English Church,”[35] remarking, that, in that case, “even the angels are excluded.”[36] Of Melanchthon’s dedication of some of his books to the King, Luther says, that this had been of little service. “In future I am not going to dedicate any of my books to anyone. It brought Philip no good in the case of the bishop [Albert of Mayence], of the Englishman, or of the Hessian [the Landgrave Philip].”[37] Still more fierce became his hatred and disappointment when he found the King consorting with his sworn enemies, Duke George, and Albert, Elector of Mayence.[38] When he heard the news of Barnes having been cast into prison, he said: “This King wants to make himself God. He lays down articles of faith and forbids marriage under pain of death, a thing which even the Pope scrupled to do. I am something of a prophet and, as what I prophesy comes true, I shall refrain from saying more.”[39]

Luther never expressed any regret regarding his readiness to humour the King’s lusts or regarding his suggestion of bigamy.

The Landgrave Philip of Hesse, however, referred directly to the proposal of bigamy made to the King of England, when he requested Luther’s consent to his own project of taking a second wife. The Landgrave had got to hear of the proposal in spite of the unlucky passage having been struck out of the deed.

The history of the Hessian bigamy is an incident which throws a curious light on Luther’s exceptional indulgence towards princely patrons of the Evangel in Germany.

2. The Bigamy of Philip of Hesse

As early as 1526 Philip of Hesse, whose conduct was far from being conspicuous for morality, had submitted to Luther the question whether Christians were allowed to have more than one wife. The Wittenberg Professor gave a reply tallying with his principles as already described;[40] instead of pointing out clearly that such a thing was divinely forbidden to all Christians, was not to be dispensed from by any earthly authority, and that such extra marriages would be entirely invalid, Luther refused to admit unconditionally the invalidity of such unions. Such marriages, he stated, gave scandal to Christians, “for without due cause and necessity even the old Patriarchs did not take more than one wife”; it was incumbent that we should be able “to appeal to the Word of God,” but no such Word existed in favour of polygamy, “by which the same could be proved to be well pleasing to God in the case of Christians”; “hence I am unable to recommend it, but would rather dissuade from it, especially for Christians, unless some great necessity existed, for instance were the wife to contract leprosy or become otherwise unfit.”[41] It is not clear whether Philip was interested in the matter for personal reasons, or simply because some of his subjects were believers in polygamy.

Luther’s communication, far from diverting the Prince from his project, could but serve to make him regard it as feasible; provided that the “great necessity” obtained and that he had “the Word of God on his side,” then the step could “not be prevented.” By dint of a judicious interpretation of Scripture and with expert theological aid, the obstacles might easily be removed.

The Hessian Prince also became acquainted with Luther’s statements on bigamy in his Commentary on Genesis published in the following year. To them the Landgrave Philip appealed expressly in 1540; the preacher Anton Corvinus having suggested that he should deny having committed bigamy, he replied indignantly: “Since you are so afraid of it, why do you not suppress what Luther wrote more than ten years ago on Genesis; did he and others not write publicly concerning bigamy: ‘Advise it I do not, forbid it I cannot’? If you are allowed to write thus of it publicly, you must expect that people will act up to your teaching.”[42]

The question became a pressing one for Luther, and began to cast a shadow over his wayward and utterly untraditional interpretation of the Bible, when, in 1539, the Landgrave resolved to take as an additional wife, besides Christina the daughter of George of Saxony, who had now grown distasteful to him, the more youthful Margeret von der Sale. From Luther Margeret’s mother desired a favourable pronouncement, in order to be able with a good conscience to give her consent to her daughter’s wedding.

Philip Seeks the Permission of Wittenberg.

Early in Nov., 1539, Gereon Sailer, an Augsburg physician famous for his skill in handling venereal cases, who had treated the Landgrave at Cassel, was sent by Philip to Bucer at Strasburg to instruct the latter to bring the matter before the theologians of Wittenberg. Sailer was a friend of the innovations, and Bucer was highly esteemed by the Landgrave as a theologian and clever diplomatist.

Bucer was at first sorely troubled in conscience and hesitated to undertake the commission; Sailer reported to the Landgrave that, on hearing of the plan, he had been “quite horrified” and had objected “the scandal such an innovation in a matter of so great importance and difficulty might cause among the weak followers of the Evangel.”[43] After thinking the matter over for three days Bucer, however, agreed to visit the Landgrave on Nov. 16 and receive his directions. A copy of the secret and elaborate instructions given him by Philip concerning the appeal he was to make to Luther still exists in the handwriting of Simon Bing, the Hessian Secretary, in the Marburg Archives together with several old copies,[44] as also the original rough draft in Philip’s own hand.[45] The envoy first betook himself to the meeting of the Schmalkalden Leaguers, held at Arnstadt on Nov. 20, to confer upon a new mission to be sent to England; on Dec. 4 he was at Weimar with the Elector of Saxony and on the 9th he had reached Wittenberg.

The assenting answer given by Luther and Melanchthon bears the date of the following day.[46] It is therefore quite true that the matter was settled “in haste,” as indeed the text of the reply states. Bucer doubtless did his utmost to prevent the theologians from having recourse to subterfuge or delay.

The above-mentioned instructions contain a sad account of the “dire necessity” which seemed to justify the second marriage: The Landgrave would otherwise be unable to lead a moral life; he was urged on by deep distress of conscience; not merely did he endure temptations of the flesh beyond all measure, but, so runs his actual confession, he was quite unable to refrain from “fornication, unchastity and adultery.”[47] The confession dealt with matters which were notorious. It also contains the admission, that he had not remained true to his wife for long, in fact not for more than “three weeks”; on account of his sense of sin he had “not been to the Sacrament.” As a matter of fact he had abstained from Communion from 1526 to 1539, viz. for thirteen years, and until his last attack of the venereal disease.

But were the scruples of conscience thus detailed to the Wittenbergers at all real? Recently they have been characterised as the “outcome of a bodily wreck.”

“I am unable to practise self-restraint,” Philip of Hesse had declared on another occasion, “I am forced to commit fornication or worse, with women.” His sister Elisabeth had already advised him to take a concubine in place of so many prostitutes. In all probability Philip would have abducted Margaret von der Sale had he not hoped to obtain her in marriage through the intervention of her relations and with Luther’s consent. A Protestant historian has recently pointed this out when dealing with Philip’s alleged “distress of conscience.”[48]

Bucer was well able to paint in dismal hues the weakness of his princely client; he pointed out, “how the Landgrave, owing to his wife’s deficiencies, was unable to remain chaste; how he had previously lived so and so, which was neither good nor Evangelical, especially in one of the mainstays of the party.”[49] In that very year Philip of Hesse had, as a matter of fact, been ailing from a certain malady brought upon him by his excesses; he himself spoke of it as a “severe attack of the French sickness [syphilis], which is the penalty of an immoral life.”[50]

True to his instructions, Bucer went on to say that the Landgrave had firmly “resolved” to make use against his unchastity—which he neither could nor would refrain from with his present wife—of “such means as God permitted and did not forbid,” viz. to wed a second wife. The two Wittenbergers had perforce to listen while Bucer, as the mouthpiece of the Landgrave, put forth as the grounds of his client’s firm resolve the very proofs from Scripture which they themselves had adduced in favour of polygamy; they were informed that, according to the tenor of a memorandum, “both Luther and Philip had counselled the King of England not to divorce his first wife, but rather to take another.”[51] It was accordingly the Landgrave’s desire that they should “give testimony” that his deed was not unjust, and that they should “make known in the press and from the pulpit what was the right course to pursue in such circumstances”; should they have scruples about doing this for fear of scandal or evil consequences, they were at least to give a declaration in writing: “That were I to do it secretly, yet I should not offend God, but that they regard it as a real marriage, and would meanwhile devise ways and means whereby the matter might be brought openly before the world”; otherwise, the instructions proceeded, the “wench” whom the Prince was about to take to himself might complain of being looked upon as an improper person; as “nothing can ever be kept secret,” “great scandal” would indeed arise were not the true state of the case known. Besides, he fully intended to retain his present wife and to consider her as a rightful spouse, and her children alone were to be the “lawful princes of the land”; nor would he ask for any more wives beyond this second one. The Landgrave even piously reminds Luther and Melanchthon “not to heed overmuch the opinion of the world, and human respect, but to look to God and what He has commanded or forbidden, bound or loosened”; he, for his part, was determined not to “remain any longer in the bonds of the devil.”

Philip was careful also to remind them that, if, after putting into execution his project, he was able to “live and die with a good conscience,” he would be “all the more free to fight for the Evangelical cause as befitted a Christian”; “whatever they [Luther and Melanchthon] shall tell me is right and Christian—whether it refers to monastic property or to other matters—that they will find me ready to carry out at their behest.” On the other hand, as an urgent motive for giving their consent to his plan, he broadly hinted, that, “should he not get any help from them” he would, “by means of an intermediary, seek permission of the Emperor, even though it should cost me a lot of money”; the Emperor would in all likelihood do nothing without a “dispensation from the Pope”; but in such a matter of conscience neither the Pope nor the Emperor were of any great account, since he was convinced that his “design was approved by God”; still, their consent (the Pope and Emperor’s) would help to overcome “human respect”; hence, should he be unable to obtain “consolation from this party [the Evangelical],” then the sanction of the other party was “not to be despised.” Concerning the request he felt impelled to address to the Emperor, he says, in words which seem to convey a threat, that although he would not for any reason on earth prove untrue to the Evangel, or aid in the onslaught on the Evangelical cause, yet, the Imperial party might “use and bind” him to do things “which would not be to the advantage of the cause.” Hence, it was in their interest to assist him in order that he might “not be forced to seek help in quarters where he had no wish to look for it.”

After again stating that he “took his stand on the Word of God” he concludes with a request for the desired “Christian, written” testimony, “in order that thereby I may amend my life, go to the Sacrament with a good conscience and further all the affairs of our religion with greater freedom and contentment. Given at Milsungen on the Sunday post Catharine anno etc. 39.”

The Wittenberg theologians now found themselves in a quandary. Luther says: “We were greatly taken aback at such a declaration on account of the frightful scandal which would follow.”[52] Apart from other considerations, the Landgrave had already been married sixteen years and had a number of sons and daughters by his wife; the execution of the project would also necessarily lead to difficulties at the Courts of the Duke of Saxony and of the Elector, and also, possibly, at that of the Duke of Würtemberg. They were unaware that Margaret von Sale had already been chosen as a second wife, that Philip had secured the consent of his wife Christina, and that the way for a settlement with the bride’s mother had already been paved.[53]

The view taken by Rockwell, viz. that the form of the memorandum to be signed by Luther and Melanchthon had already been drawn up in Hesse by order of Philip, is, however, erroneous; nor was the document they signed a copy of such a draft.[54]

It is much more likely that the lengthy favourable reply of the Wittenbergers was composed by Melanchthon. It was signed with the formula: “Wittenberg, Wednesday after St. Nicholas, 1539. Your Serene Highness’s willing and obedient servants [and the signatures] Martinus Luther, Philippus Melanchthon, Martinus Bucerus.”[55] The document is now among the Marburg archives.

Characteristically enough the idea that the Landgrave is, and must remain, the protector of the new religious system appears at the commencement as well as at the close of the document. The signatories begin by congratulating the Prince, that God “has again helped him out of sickness,” and pray that heaven may preserve him, for the “poor Church of Christ is small and forsaken, and indeed stands in need of pious lords and governors”; at the end God is again implored to guide and direct him; above all, the Landgrave must have nothing to do with the Imperialists.

The rest of the document, apart from pious admonitions, consists of the declaration, that they give their “testimony that, in a case of necessity,” they were “unable to condemn” bigamy, and that, accordingly, his “conscience may be at rest” should the Landgrave “utilise” the Divine dispensation. In so many words they sanction the request submitted to them, because “what was permitted concerning matrimony in the Mosaic Law was not prohibited in the Gospel.” Concerning the circumstances of the request they, however, declined “to give anything in print,” because otherwise the matter would be “understood and accepted as a general law and from it [i.e. a general sanction of polygamy] much grave scandal and complaint would arise.” The Landgrave’s wish that they should speak of the case from the pulpit, is also passed over in silence. Nor did they reply to his invitation to them to consider by what ways and means the matter might be brought publicly before the world. On the contrary, they appear to be intent on burying in discreet silence a marriage so distasteful to them. It even looks as though they were simple enough to think that such concealment would be possible, even in the long run. What they fear is, above all, the consequences of its becoming common property. In no way, so they declare, was any universal law, any “public precedent” possible, whereby a plurality of wives might be made lawful; according to its original institution marriage had signified “the union of two persons only, not of more”; but, in view of the examples of the Old Covenant, they “were unable to condemn it,” if, in a quite exceptional case, “recourse were had to a dispensation ... and a man, with the advice of his pastor, took another wife, not with the object of introducing a law, but to satisfy his need.”

As for instances of such permission having been given in the Church, they were able to quote only two: First, the purely legendary case of Count Ernest of Gleichen—then still regarded as historical—who, during his captivity among the Turks in 1228, had married his master’s daughter, and, then, after his escape, and after having learnt that his wife was still living, applied for and obtained a Papal dispensation for bigamy; secondly, the alleged practice in cases of prolonged and incurable illness, such as leprosy, to permit, occasionally, the man to take another wife. The latter, however, can only refer to Luther’s own practice, or to that followed by the teachers of the new faith.[56] In 1526 Luther had informed the Landgrave that this was allowable in case of “dire necessity,” “for instance, where the wife was leprous, or had been otherwise rendered unfit.”[57] Acting upon this theory he was soon to give a decision in a particular case;[58] in May or June, 1540, he even stated that he had several times, when one of the parties had contracted leprosy, privately sanctioned the bigamy of the healthy party, whether man or woman.[59]

They are at great pains to impress on the Landgrave that he must “take every possible care that this matter be not made public in the world,” otherwise the dispensation would be taken as a precedent by others, and also would be made to serve as a “weapon against them and the Evangel.” “Hence, seeing how great scandal would be caused, we humbly beg your Serene Highness to take this matter into serious consideration.”

They also admonish him “to avoid fornication and adultery”; they had learnt with “great sorrow” that the Landgrave “was burdened with such evil lusts, of which the consequences to be feared were the Divine punishment, illness and other perils”; such conduct, outside of matrimony, was “no small sin”—as they proceed to prove from Scripture; they rejoiced, however, that the Prince felt “pain and remorse” for what he had done. Although monogamy was in accordance with the original institution of marriage, yet it was their duty to tell him that, “seeing that your Serene Highness has informed us that you are not able to refrain from an immoral life, we would rather that your Highness should be in a better state before God, and live with a good conscience for your Highness’s own salvation and the good of your land and people. And, as your Serene Highness has determined to take another wife, we consider that this should be kept secret, no less than the dispensation, viz. that your Serene Highness and the lady in question, and a few other trustworthy persons, should be apprised of your Highness’s conscience and state of mind in the way of confession.”

“From this,” they continue, “no great gossip or scandal will result, for it is not unusual for Princes to keep ‘concubinas,’ and, though not everyone is aware of the circumstances, yet reasonable people will bear this in mind and be better pleased with such a manner of life than with adultery or dissolute and immoral living.”

Yet, once again, they point out that, were the bigamy to become a matter of public knowledge, the opinion would gain ground that polygamy was perfectly lawful to all, and that everyone might follow the precedent; the result would also be that the enemies of the Evangel would cry out that the Evangelicals were not one whit better than the Anabaptists, who were likewise polygamists and, in fact, just the same as the Turks. Further, the great Lords would be the first to give the example to private persons to do likewise. As it was, the Hessian aristocracy was bad enough, and many of its members were strongly opposed to the Evangel on earthly grounds; these would become still more hostile were the bigamy to become publicly known. Lastly, the Prince must bear in mind the injury to his “good name” which the tidings of his act would cause amongst foreign potentates.

A paragraph appended to the memorandum is, according to recent investigation, from Luther’s own pen and, at any rate, is quite in his style.[60] It refers to Philip’s threat to seek the Emperor’s intervention, a step which would not have been at all to the taste of the Wittenbergers, for it was obvious that this would cripple Philip’s action as Protector of the Evangelicals. This menace had plainly excited and troubled Luther. He declares in the concluding sentences, that the Emperor before whom the Prince threatened to lay the case, was a man who looked upon adultery as a small sin; there was great reason to fear that he shared the faith of the Pope, Cardinals, Italians, Spaniards and Saracens; he would pay no heed to the Prince’s request but only use him as a cat’s-paw. They had found him out to be a false and faithless man, who had forgotten the true German spirit. The Emperor, as the Landgrave might see for himself, did not trouble himself about any Christian concerns, left the Turks unopposed and was only interested in fomenting plots in Germany for the increase of the Burgundian power. Hence it was to be hoped that pious German Princes would have nothing to do with his faithless practices.

Such are the contents of Luther and Melanchthon’s written reply. Bucer, glad of the success achieved, at once proceeded with the memorandum to the Electoral Court.

This theological document, the like of which had never been seen, is unparalleled in the whole of Church history. Seldom indeed has exegetical waywardness been made to serve a more momentous purpose. The Elector, Johann Frederick of Saxony, was, at a later date, quite horrified, as he said, at “a business the like of which had not been heard of for many ages.”[61] Sidonie, the youthful Duchess of Saxony, complained subsequently, that, “since the Birth of Christ, no one had done such a thing.”[62] Bucer’s fears had not been groundless “of the scandal of such an innovation in a matter of so great importance and difficulty among the weak followers of the Evangel.”[63]

Besides this, the sanction of bigamy given in the document in question is treated almost as though it denoted the commencement of a more respectable mode of life incapable of giving any “particular scandal”; for amongst the common people the newly wedded wife would be looked upon as a concubine, and such it was quite usual for Princes to keep. Great stress is laid on the fact that the secret bigamy would prevent adultery and other immorality. Apart, however, from these circumstances, the sanctioning, largely on the strength of political considerations, of an exception to the universal New-Testament prohibition, is painful. Anyone, however desirous of finding extenuating circumstances for Luther’s decision, can scarcely fail to be shocked at this fact. The only excuse that might be advanced would be, that Philip, by his determination to take this step and his threat of becoming reconciled to the Emperor, exercised pressure tantamount to violence, and that the weight of years, his scorn for the Church’s matrimonial legislation and his excessive regard for his own interpretation of the Old Testament helped Luther to signify his assent to a plan so portentous.

The Bigamy is Consummated and made Public.

The object of Bucer’s hasty departure for the Court of the Elector Johann Frederick of Saxony was to dispose him favourably towards the impending marriage. In accordance with his instructions from Hesse, he was to submit to this Prince the same arguments which had served him with the two Wittenbergers, for the superscription of the instructions ran: “What Dr. Martin Bucer is to demand of D. Martin Luther and Philip Melanchthon, and, should he see fit, after that also of the Elector.”[64] In addition to this he had in the meantime received special instructions for this delicate mission to Weimar.[65]

The Landgrave looked upon an understanding with the Elector as necessary, not merely on account of his relationship with him and out of consideration for Christina his first wife, who belonged to the House of Saxony, but also on account of the ecclesiastico-political alliance in which they stood, which made the Elector’s support seem to him quite as essential as the sanction of the Wittenberg theologians.

Bucer treated with Johann Frederick at Weimar on 15 or 16 Dec. and reached some sort of understanding, as we learn from the Elector’s written reply to the Landgrave bearing the latter date. Bucer represents him as saying: If it is impossible to remove the scandal caused by the Landgrave’s life in any other way, he would ask, as a brother, that the plan should not be executed in any other way than “that contained in our—Dr. Luther’s, Philip’s and my own—writing”; upon this he was unable to improve; he was also ready to “lend him fraternal assistance in every way” should any complications arise from this step.[66] In return, in accordance with the special instructions given to Bucer, he received from the Landgrave various political concessions of great importance: viz. support in the matter of the Duke of Cleves, help in his difficulties about Magdeburg, the eventual renunciation of Philip’s title to the inheritance of his father-in-law, Duke George, and, finally, the promise to push his claims to the Imperial crown after the death of Charles V, or in the event of the partitioning of the Empire.

The Elector, like his theologians, was not aware that the “lady” (she is never actually named) had already been chosen. Margaret von der Sale, who was then only seventeen years of age, was the daughter of a lady-in-waiting to Philip’s sister, Elisabeth, Duchess of Rochlitz. Her mother, Anna von der Sale, an ambitious lady of the lower nobility, had informed the Landgrave that she must stipulate for certain privileges. As soon as Philip had received the replies from Wittenberg and Weimar, on Dec. 23, 1539, the demands of the mother were at once settled by persons vested with the necessary authority. Even before this, on the very day of the negotiations with Luther, Dec. 11, the Landgrave and his wife Christina had each drawn up a formal deed concerning what was about to take place: Christina agreed to Philip’s “taking another wedded wife” and promised that she would never on that account be unfriendly to the Landgrave, his second wife, or her children; Philip pledged himself not to countenance any claim to the Landgraviate on the part of any issue by the second wife during the lifetime of Christina’s two sons, but to provide for such issue by means of territories situated outside his own dominions.[67] Such was the assurance with which he proceeded towards the cherished goal.

Several Hessian theologians of the new faith, for instance, the preacher Dionysius Melander, a personal friend of the Landgrave’s, and Johann Lening were on his side.[68] To the memorandum composed by Luther and Melanchthon the signatures of both the above-mentioned were subsequently added, as well as those of Anton Corvinus, then pastor at Witzenhausen, of Adam Fuldensis (Kraft), then Superintendent at Marburg, of Justus Winther—since 1532 Court Schoolmaster at Cassel and, from 1542, Superintendent at Rotenburg on the Fulda—and of Balthasar Rhaide (Raid), pastor at Hersfeld, who, as Imperial Notary, certified the marriage. The signature of the last was, however, subsequently erased.[69]

About the middle of Jan., 1540, Philip informed the more prominent Councillors and theologians that he would soon carry out his project. When everything was ready the marriage was celebrated on March 4 in the Castle of Rotenburg on the Fulda by the Court Chaplain, Dionysius Melander, in the presence of Bucer and Melanchthon; were also present the Commandant of the Wartburg, Eberhard von der Thann, representing the Elector of Saxony, Pastor Balthasar Rhaide, the Hessian Chancellor Johann Feige of Lichtenau, the Marshal Hermann von Hundelshausen, Rudolf Schenk zu Schweinsberg (Landvogt of Eschwege on the Werra), Hermann von der Malsburg, a nobleman, and the mother of the bride, Anna von der Sale.[70] The draft of the short discourse still exists with which the Landgrave intended to open the ceremony. Melander delivered the formal wedding address. On the following day Melanchthon handed the Landgrave an “admonition,” i.e. a sort of petition, in which he warmly recommended to his care the welfare of education. It is possible that when summoned, to Rotenburg from a meeting of the Schmalkalden League at which he had been assisting, he was unaware of the object of the invitation. Subsequent explanations, furnished at the last moment, by Melander and Lening, seem to have drawn a protest from Melanchthon which roused the anger of the two preachers. This shows that “everything did not pass off smoothly at Rotenburg.”[71] Both were, not long after, stigmatised by Melanchthon as “ineruditi homines” and made chiefly responsible for the lax principles of the Landgrave.[72] Luther tried later to represent Lening, the “monster,” as the man by whom the idea of the bigamy, a source of extreme embarrassment to the Wittenbergers, had first been hatched.[73]

Although the Landgrave was careful to preserve secrecy concerning the new marriage—already known to so many persons,—permitting only the initiate to visit the “lady,” and even forbidding her to attend Divine Worship, still the news of what had taken place soon leaked out. “Palpable signs appeared in the building operations commenced at Weissenstein, and also in the despatch of a cask of wine to Luther.”[74] At Weissenstein, in the former monastery near Cassel, now Wilhelmshöhe, an imposing residence was fitted up for Margaret von der Sale. In a letter of May 24, 1540, to Philip, Luther expresses his thanks for the gift of wine: “I have received your Serene Highness’s present of the cask of Rhine wine and thank your Serene Highness most humbly. May our dear Lord God keep and preserve you body and soul. Amen.”[75] Katey also received a gift from the Prince, for which Luther returned thanks on Aug. 22, though without mentioning its nature.[76] On the cask of wine and its destination the Schultheiss of Lohra spoke “openly before all the peasants,” so Anton Corvinus informed the Landgrave on May 25, saying that: “Your Serene Highness has taken another wife, of which he was perfectly sure, and your Serene Highness is now sending a cask of wine to Luther because he gave your Serene Highness permission to do such a thing.”[77]

On June 9 Jonas wrote from Wittenberg, where he was staying with Luther—who himself was as silent as the tomb—to George of Anhalt: Both in the Meissen district and at Wittenberg there is “much gossip” (‘ingens fama’) of bigamy with a certain von Sale, though, probably, it was only “question of a concubine.”[78] Five days later, however, he relates, that “at Würzburg and similar [Catholic] localities the Papists and Canons were expressing huge delight” over the bigamy.[79]

The behaviour of the Landgrave’s sister had helped to spread the news. On March 13 the Landgrave, through Marshal von Hundelshausen, had informed the latter of the fact, as he had formally promised Margaret’s mother to do. The “lady began to weep, made a great outcry and abused Luther and Bucer as a pair of incarnate scamps.”[80] She was unable to reconcile herself to the bigamy or to refrain from complaining to others. “My angry sister has been unable to hold her tongue,” wrote the Landgrave Philip on June 8.[81] The Ducal Court of Saxony at Dresden was anxious for reliable information. Duke Henry was a patron of Lutheranism, but one of the motives for his curiosity in this matter is to be found in the fact that the Landgrave was claiming a portion of the inheritance of the late Duke George, who had died on April 17, 1539. In accordance with Henry’s orders Anna von der Sale, as a subject of the Saxon duchy, was removed by force on June 3 from her residence at Schönfeld and carried to Dresden. There the mother confessed everything and declared, not without pride, that her daughter Margaret “was as much the rightful wife of the Landgrave as Christina.”[82] About Whitsun the Landgrave personally admitted the fact to Maurice of Saxony.

The Court of Dresden at once informed the Elector of Saxony of its discovery and of the very unfavourable manner in which the news had been received, and the latter, in turn, communicated it, through Chancellor Brück, to Luther and Melanchthon.

The Elector Johann Frederick, in view of the change of circumstances, became more and more vexed with the marriage. To a certain extent he stood under the influence of Elisabeth Duchess of Rochlitz. In his case, too, the question of property played a part, viz. whether, in view of the understanding existing between Hesse and Saxony as to the succession, the children of the second wife were to become the heirs in the event of the death of the children of the first wife, this being what the Landgrave demanded. Above all, however, the cautious Elector was anxious about the attitude of the Empire and Emperor. He feared lest steps should be taken against the general scandal which had been given and to obviate the danger of the spread of polygamous ideas. Hence he was not far from withdrawing from Luther the favour he had hitherto shown him, the more so now that the Court of Dresden was intent on raising trouble against all who had furthered the Landgrave’s plan.

Meanwhile the news rapidly spread, partly owing to persons belonging to the Court. It reached King Ferdinand, and, by him, and still more by Morone, the Nuncio, it was carried to the Emperor.

Morone wrote on June 15, from the religious conference then proceeding at Hagenau, to Cardinal Farnese at Rome: “During the lifetime of his first wife, a daughter of Duke George of Saxony of good memory, the Landgrave of Hesse, has, as we hear, taken a second wife, a lady of distinction, von der Sale by name, a native of Saxony. It is said, his theologians teach that it is not forbidden to Christians to have several wives, except in the case of a Bishop, because there is no such prohibition in Holy Scripture. I can hardly credit it, but since God has ‘given them over to a reprobate mind’ [Rom. i. 28] and as the King has assured me that he has heard it from several quarters, I give you the report for what it is worth.”[83]

Philip of Hesse, who was already in disgrace with the Emperor on account of his expedition into Würtemberg and his support of Duke Ulrich, knew the penalties which he might expect unless he found some means of escape. The “Carolina” (1532) decreed “capital punishment” against bigamists, no less than against adulterers.[84] The Landgrave himself was even fully prepared to forfeit one-third of his possessions should it be impossible to arrive otherwise at a settlement.[85] He now openly declared—as he had already hinted he would—that, in case of necessity, he would make humble submission to the Emperor; if the worst came to the worst, then he would also make public the memorandum he had received from Wittenberg in order to exculpate himself—a threat which filled the Elector with alarm on account of his University and of Luther.

Bucer, the first to be summoned to the aid of the Hessian Court, advised the Landgrave to escape from his unfortunate predicament by downright lying. He wrote: If concealment and equivocation should prove of no avail, he was to state in writing that false rumours concerning his person had come into circulation, and that no Christian was allowed to have two wives at the same time; he was also to replace the marriage-contract by another contract in which Margaret might be described as a concubine—such as God had allowed to His beloved friends—and not as a wife within the meaning of the calamitous Imperial Law; an effort was also to be made to induce the Court of Dresden to keep silence, or to deny any knowledge of the business, and, in the meantime, the “lady” might be kept even more carefully secluded than before.[86]

The Landgrave’s reply was violent in the extreme. He indignantly rejected Bucer’s suggestion; the dissimulation alleged to have been practised by others, notably by the Patriarchs, Judges, Kings and Prophets, etc., in no wise proved the lawfulness of lying; Bucer had “been instigated to make such proposals by some worldly-wise persons and jurists whom we know well.”[87] Philip wrote to the same effect to the Lutheran theologians, Schnepf, Osiander and Brenz, who urged him to deny that Margaret was his lawful wife: “That, when once the matter has become quite public, we should assert that it was invalid, this we cannot bring ourselves to do. We cannot tell a lie, for to lie does not become any man. And, moreover, God has forbidden lying. So long as it is possible we shall certainly reply ‘dubitative’ or ‘per amphibologiam,’ but to say that it is invalid, such advice you may give to another, but not to us.”[88]

The “amphibologia” had been advised by the Hessian theologians, who had pointed out that Margaret could best be described to the Imperial Court of Justice as a “concubina,” since, in the language of the Old Testament, as also in that of the ancient Church, this word had sometimes been employed to describe a lawful wife.[89] They also wrote to Luther and Melanchthon, fearing that they might desert the Landgrave, telling them that they were expected to stand by their memorandum. Although they were in favour of secrecy, yet they wished that, in case of necessity, the Wittenbergers should publicly admit their share. Good care would be taken to guard against the general introduction of polygamy.[90]

Dispensation; Advice in Confession; a Confessor’s Secret?

Was the document signed by Luther, Melanchthon and Bucer a dispensation for bigamy?

It has been so described. But, even according to the very wording of the memorandum, the signatories had no intention of issuing a dispensation. On the contrary, according to the text, they, as learned theologians, declared that the Divine Law, as they understood it, gave a general sanction, according to which, in cases such as that of Philip of Hesse, polygamy was allowed. It is true that they and Philip himself repeatedly use the word “dispensation,” but by this they meant to describe the alleged general sanction in accordance with which the law admitted of exceptions in certain cases, hence their preference for the term “to use” the dispensation, instead of the more usual “to beg” or “to grant.” Philip is firmly resolved “to use” the dispensation brought to his knowledge by Luther’s writings, and the theologians, taking their cue from him, likewise speak of his “using” it in his own case.[91]

It was the same with the “dispensation” which the Wittenbergers proposed to Henry VIII of England. (See above, p. 4 f.) They had no wish to invest him with an authority which, according to their ideas, he did not possess, but they simply drew his attention to the freedom common to all, and declared by them to be bestowed by God, viz. in his case, of taking a second wife, telling him that he was free to have recourse to this dispensation. In other words, they gave him the power to dispense himself, regardless of ecclesiastical laws and authorities.

Another question: How far was the substance of the advice given in the Hessian case to be regarded as a secret? Can it really be spoken of as a “counsel given in confession,” or as a “secret of the confessional”?

This question later became of importance in the negotiations which turned upon the memorandum. In order to answer it without prejudice it is essential in the first place to point out, that the subsequent interpretations and evasions must not here be taken into account. The actual wording of the document and its attendant historical circumstances have alone to be taken into consideration, abstraction being made of the fine distinctions and meanings afterwards read into it.

First, there is no doubt that both the Landgrave’s request for the Wittenberg testimony and its granting were intended to be confidential and not public. Philip naturally assumed that the most punctilious secrecy would be preserved so long as no decision had been arrived at, seeing that he had made confidential disclosures concerning his immorality in pleading for a second marriage. The Wittenbergers, as they explicitly state, gave their reply not merely unwillingly, with repugnance and with great apprehension of the scandal which might ensue, but also most urgently recommended Philip to keep the bigamy to himself. Both the request and the theological testimony accordingly came under the natural obligation of silence, i.e. under the so-called confidential seal of secrecy. This, however, was of course broken when the suppliant on his part allowed the matter to become public; in such a case no one could grudge the theologians the natural right of bringing forward everything that was required for their justification, even to the reasons which had determined them to give their consent, though of course they were in honour bound to show the utmost consideration; for this the petitioner himself was alone to blame.

As a matter of fact, however, strange though it may seem, Philip’s intention all along had been ultimately to make the marriage public. It cannot be proved that he ever made any written promise to observe the recommendation of absolute secrecy made by the theologians. Those who drew up the memorandum disregarded his wish for publicity, and, on the contrary, “advised” that the matter should be kept a dead secret. Yet ought they not to have foreseen that a Prince so notoriously unscrupulous would be likely to disregard their “advice”? The theologians were certainly no men of the world if they really believed that the Landgrave’s bigamy—and their memorandum by which it was justified—would or could remain concealed. They themselves had allowed a number of other parties to be initiated into the secret, nor was it difficult to foresee that Philip, and Margaret’s ambitious mother, would not allow the stigma of concubinage to rest permanently on the newly wedded bride. The mother had expressly stipulated that Margaret should be treated as a lawful wife and given this title, and not as a concubine, though of this the Wittenbergers were not aware.

Further, the theological grounds for the Wittenberg “advice” must not be lost sight of in considering the question of the obligation of silence or secrecy. The theologians based their decision on a doctrine which they had already openly proclaimed. Nor did Luther ever withdraw from the standpoint that polygamy was lawful; he even proclaimed it during the height of the controversy raised by the Hessian bigamy, though he was careful to restrict it to very rare and exceptional cases and to make its use dependent on the consent of the authorities. Thus the grounds for the step he had taken in Philip’s favour were universally and publicly known just as much as his other theological doctrines. If, however, his teaching on this matter was true, then, strictly speaking, people had as much right to it as to every other piece of truth; in fact, it was the more urgent that this Evangelical discovery should not be put under a bushel, seeing that it would have been a veritable godsend to many who groaned in the bonds of matrimony. Hence everything, both on Philip’s side and on that of the theologians, pointed to publicity. But may, perhaps, the Wittenberg “advice” have been esteemed a sort of “counsel given in Confession,” and did its contents accordingly fall under the “secret of Confession”?

The word “Confession,” in its sacramental meaning, was never used in connection with the affair dealt with at Wittenberg, either in Philip’s instructions to Bucer or in the theologians’ memorandum, nor does it occur in any of the few documents relating to the bigamy until about six months later. “Confession” is first alleged in the letter of excuse given below which Luther addressed to the Elector of Saxony. It is true that the expression “in the way of Confession” occurs once in the memorandum, but there it is used in an entirely different sense and in no way stamps the business as a matter of Confession. There it is stated (above, p. 21), that those who were to be apprised of the bigamy were to learn it “in the way of Confession.” Here the word Confession is employed by metonymy and merely emphasises the need of discretion. Here there was naturally no idea of the sacramental seal, or of the making of a real Confession. In the Middle Ages the term Confession was not seldom used to denote the imparting of an ordinary confidential secret, just as the word to confess originally meant to admit, to acknowledge, or to communicate something secret. This, however, was not the meaning attached to it by those who sought to shelter themselves behind the term in the controversies which ensued after the bigamy had become generally known. To vindicate the keeping secret of his so-called “advice in Confession,” Luther falls back upon his Catholic recollections of the entire secrecy required of the Confessor, in other words, on the sacramental “seal.”

Undoubtedly the Seal of Confession is inexorable; according to the Catholic view it possesses a sacramental sanction and surrounds, like a protecting rampart, the sanctuary of the Sacrament of Penance, which otherwise would be shunned by all. But this absolute and sacramental obligation of silence attends only the administration of the Sacrament of Penance.

The idea that Luther and his comrades when signing the “advice” were dispensing the Sacrament of Penance cannot but raise a smile. In connection with this matter non-Catholic theologians and historians would never have spoken as they have done of Luther as a Confessor, had they been better acquainted with the usages of the older Church. In the case of such writers all that is known of the system of Confession is often a few distorted quotations from casuists. Even under its altered form, as then in use among the Protestants, Confession could only mean an admission of one’s sins, made to obtain absolution. In Lutheranism, confession, so far as it was retained at all, meant the awakening and animating of faith by means of some sort of self-accusation completed by the assurance given by the preacher of the Divine promise and forgiveness, a process which bears no analogy to the “testimony” given by the theologians to Philip of Hesse. In the Catholic Church, moreover, in whose practice Luther seems anxious to take refuge, Confession involves an accusation of all grievous sins, contrition, a firm resolve to amend, satisfaction and absolution. What was there of all this in the Landgrave’s so-called Confession?[92] Where was the authority to absolve, even had this been what the Landgrave sought? How then could there come into play the Seal of Confession, i.e. any sacramental obligation apart from the purely natural obligation of keeping silence concerning a communication made in confidence? Again, Confession, even according to Lutheran ideas, is not made at a distance, or to several persons simultaneously, or with the object of securing a signed document.

Apart from all this one may even question whether the Landgrave’s disclosures were really honestly meant. Not everyone would have taken them from the outset as intended seriously, or have regarded them as above suspicion. Melanchthon, for instance, soon began to have doubts. (See below.) The readiness, nay, eagerness, shown by Philip later to repeat his Confession to others, to reinforce it by even more appalling admissions of wickedness, and to give it the fullest publicity, is really not favourable to the “Confession” idea; on the contrary, it reminds us of the morbid pleasure which persons habituated to vice and who have lost all respect whether for themselves or for the virtue of others, take in speaking openly of their moral lapses. The most important point to bear in mind is, however, the fact, that with Philip of Hesse it was a question of a marriage which he intended should be kept secret only for a time, and further that the Wittenbergers were aware of Philip’s readiness to lay his case before the Emperor, nay, even the Pope should necessity arise.[93] Owing to this they could not be blind to the possibility of the marriage, and, incidentally, of the Landgrave’s admission of moral necessity, and further of their own “advice” being all disclosed. Thus the “Seal of Confession” was threatened from the very first. Philip himself never recognised a binding obligation of secrecy on the part of the Wittenbergers; on the contrary, his invitation to them was: Speak out freely, now that the step has been taken with your sanction! What was Luther’s answer? He appealed to the Secret of the Confessional and refused to defend the act before the world and the Empire, but merely “before God”; all he was willing to do was to vindicate it “before God, by examples such as that of Abraham, etc., and to conceal it as much as possible.” And yet, to forestall what will be related below, full publicity would surely have been the best thing for himself, as then the world would at least have learnt that he was not desirous of introducing polygamy generally, and that the whole business had only been made common property through Philip’s disregard of the recommendation of secrecy. Instead of this, however, he preferred to profess his readiness (it was probably no more than a threat) to admit publicly that he had been in the wrong all along and had acted foolishly; here again, had he been true to his word, the “Secret of the Confessional” would assuredly have fared badly.

Even in his letter of excuse to the Elector Johann Frederick concerning his sanction of the bigamy, Luther explained so much of the incident, that the “Seal of Confession” was practically violated; quite unmindful of the inviolability of the Seal he here declared, that he would have preferred to say nothing of the “counsel given in Confession had not necessity” forced him to do so. But what kind of Seal of Confession was this, we may ask, which could thus be set aside in case of necessity?

Melanchthon acted differently. He, without any necessity, at once recounted everything that had happened to a friend in a letter eloquent with grief. He, the author of the “Counsel of Confession,” felt under no obligation to regard the Seal. He considers himself liberated, by Philip’s behaviour, from the obligation even of confidential secrecy.[94] Bucer expressed himself on Aug. 8, 1540, in a similar fashion concerning the counsel given to the Landgrave “in Confession”: Luther would certainly publish and defend it, should the “marriage have to be admitted” through no fault of the Landgrave’s.[95] No one, in fact, displayed the slightest scruple regarding the secrecy of the Confession—except Luther and those who re-echo his sentiments.

According to the above we are justified in saying that the term “Counsel given in Confession” is in no wise descriptive of the Wittenberg document. The word “testimony,” or “certificate,” used both in Philip’s instructions and in an important passage of the document signed by Luther, Melanchthon and Bucer, is historically more correct; the terms “opinion” or “memorandum” are equally applicable.

The Wittenbergers gave their testimony or opinion—such is the upshot of the matter—but no Dispensation or Counsel in Confession in the sense just determined. They gave a testimony, which was asked for that it might be made public, but which was given in confidence, which was moreover based on their openly expressed teaching, though it actually dealt only with Philip’s own case, a testimony which no longer involved them in any obligation of secrecy once the marriage had been made public by Philip, and once the latter had declared his intention of making the testimony public should circumstances demand it.

Luther’s Embarrassment on the Bigamy becoming Public.

At the commencement of June, 1540, Luther was in great distress on account of the Hessian bigamy. His embarrassment and excitement increased as the tidings flew far and wide, particularly when the Court of Dresden and his own Elector began to take fright at the scandal, and the danger of complications arising with the Emperor. On the other hand, Luther was not unaware of the Landgrave’s doubts as to whether he would stand by his written declaration. Jonas wrote from Wittenberg on June 10 to George of Anhalt: “Philip is much upset and Dr. Martin full of thought.”[96]

On that very day Brück, the Electoral Chancellor, discussed the matter with both of them at Wittenberg. He acquainted them with his sovereign’s fears. They had gone too far, and the publication of the affair had had the most disastrous results; a young Princess and Landgravine had appeared on the scene, which was not at all what the Elector had expected; the Court of Dresden was loud in its complaints and spared not even the Elector; the Dresden people were bringing forward against Luther what he had taught in favour of polygamy thirteen years before; the door had now been opened wide to polygamists.

Not long after Luther wrote, that, were it necessary, he would know how to “extricate himself.”[97] Even before dropping this curious remark he had shown himself very anxious to make his position secure. It was with this object in view, that, after his interview with Brück, probably on the same day, he proceeded to explain the case to his sovereign in the lengthy letter[98] in which he appeals to Confession and its secrecy.

“Before the world and against the laws of the Empire it cannot be defended,” but “we were desirous of glossing it over before God as much as possible with examples, such as that of Abraham, etc. All this was done and treated of as in Confession, so that we cannot be charged as though we had done it willingly and gladly, or with joy and pleasure.... I took into consideration the unavoidable necessity and weakness, and the danger to his conscience which Master Bucer had set forth.”

Luther goes on to complain, that the Landgrave, by allowing this “matter of Confession” and “advice given in Confession” to become to a certain extent public, had caused all this “annoyance and contumely.” He relates in detail what Bucer, when seeking to obtain the Wittenberg sanction, had recounted concerning his master’s immorality, so contrary to the Evangel, “though he should be one of the mainstays of the party.” They had at first looked askance at the idea, but, on being told that “he was unable to relinquish it, and, should we not permit it, would do it in spite of us, and obtain permission from the Emperor or the Pope unless we were beforehand, we humbly begged His Serene Highness, if he was really set on it, and, as he declared, could not in conscience and before God do otherwise, that he would at least keep it secret.” This had been promised them [by Bucer]; their intention had been to “save his conscience as best we might.”

Luther, far from showing himself remorseful for his indulgence, endeavours in his usual way to suppress any scruples of conscience: “Even to-day, were such a case to come before me again, I should not know how to give any other advice than what I then gave, nor would it trouble me should it afterwards become known.” “I am not ashamed of the testimony even should it come before the world, though, to be spared trouble, I should prefer it to be kept secret so long as possible.” Still, no angel would have induced him to give such advice “had he known that the Landgrave had long satisfied and could still satisfy his cravings on others, for instance, as I now learn, on lady von Essweg.” This lady was perhaps a relative of Rudolf Schenk, Landvogt of Eschwege on the Werra.[99] We may recall, that the proposal of taking a “concubine” in place of the too numerous “light women” had been made to Philip by his sister.[100]

Luther goes on to excuse his conduct still further to the Elector: “Still less would I have advised a public marriage”; that the second wife was to become a Princess or Landgravine—a plan at which the whole Empire would take offence—had been kept from him altogether; “what I expected was, that, since he was obliged owing to the weakness of the flesh to follow the ordinary course of sin and shame, he would perhaps keep an honest girl in some house, and wed her secretly—though even this would look ill in the sight of the world—and thus overcome his great trouble of conscience; he could then ride backwards and forwards, as the great lords do frequently enough; similar advice I gave also to certain parish priests under Duke George and the bishops, viz. that they should marry their cook secretly.”

Though what he here says may be worthy of credence, yet to apply the term Confession to what passed between Philip and Wittenberg is surely to introduce an alien element into the affair. Yet he does use the word three times in the course of the letter and seemingly lays great stress on it. The Confession, he says, covered all that had passed, and, because it “was seemly” to “keep matters treated of in Confession private” he and Melanchthon “preferred not to relate the matter and the counsel given in Confession” to the Elector; but, since the Landgrave “had revealed the substance of the Confession and the advice,” it was easier for him to speak. Hence he would now reveal the “advice given in Confession; though I should much have preferred to keep it secret, unless necessity had forced it from me, now I am unable to do so.” The fact is, however, that the real Seal of Confession (and of this Luther was quite aware) does not allow the confessor who has received the Confession to make any communication or disclosure concerning it; even should the penitent make statements concerning other matters which occurred in the Confession, under no circumstances whatsoever, however serious these may be, not even in the case of danger to life and limb, may “necessity” “force out” anything. Although in this case Luther had not heard a Confession at all, yet he refers to the Secret of the Confessional with which he was acquainted from his Catholic days, and his own former exercise of it: “I have received in Confession many confidences, both in Popery and since, and given advice, but were there any question of making them public I should be obliged to say no.... Such matters are no business of the secular courts nor ought they to be made public.”

This uncalled-for introduction of Confession was intended to save him from being obliged to admit his consent publicly; it was meant to reassure so weak a theologian as the Elector, who dreaded the scandal arising from Luther’s advice to commit bigamy, and the discussion of the case before the Imperial Court of Justice; possibly he also hoped it would serve against that other princely theologian, viz. the Landgrave, and cause him to withdraw his demand for a public acknowledgment of the sanction given. His tactics here remind us of Luther’s later denial, when he professed himself ready simply to deny the bigamy and his share in it—because everything had been merely a matter of Confession.

Even in this first letter dealing with the question, he is clearly on the look-out for a loophole by which he may escape from the calamitous business.

The publication of the “testimony” was to be prevented at all costs. But, as a matter of fact, not only did the “Seal of Confession” present no obstacle, but even the common secrecy referred to above (p. 31) was no longer binding. This had been cancelled by the indiscretion of the Landgrave. Moreover, apart from this, the natural obligation of secrecy did not extend to certain extreme cases which might have been foreseen by both parties and in the event of which both would recover their freedom. It should be noted, that Luther hardly made any appeal to this natural obligation of secrecy, probably because it could not be turned to account so easily. The Seal of Confession promised to serve him better in circles so little acquainted with theology.

In the second letter dealing with the bigamy, dated June 27, 1540, and addressed to Philip’s intimate, Eberhard von der Thann, Luther speaks with an eye on Hesse.[101] Thann, through Chancellor Brück, had informed him of what was being said of him there, and had asked what Luther would advise the Hessian Prince, and whether, in order to obviate other cases of polygamy in Hesse, it would be advisable for the authorities to issue an edict against the universal lawfulness of having several wives. Luther replied, that he agreed with the Landgrave’s intention as announced by Thann concerning his second marriage, viz. to wait until the Emperor “should approach His Serene Highness on the subject”; and then to write to the Emperor: “That he had taken a concubine but that he would be perfectly ready to put her away again if other Princes and Lords would set a good example.” If the Emperor were compelled “to regard the ‘lady’ as a concubine,” “no one else would dare to speak or think differently”; in this wise the real state of things would be “covered over and kept secret.” On the other hand, it would not be at all advisable to issue any edict, or to speak of the matter, for then “there would be no end or limit to gossip and suspicions.”

“And I for my part am determined [here he comes to his ‘testimony’ and the meaning he now put on it] to keep silence concerning my part of the confession which I heard from His Serene Highness through Bucer, even should I suffer for it, for it is better that people should say that Dr. Martin acted foolishly in his concession to the Landgrave—for even great men have acted foolishly and do so, even now, as the saying goes: A wise man makes no small mistakes—rather than reveal the reasons why we secretly consented; for that would greatly disgrace and damage the reputation of the Landgrave, and would also make matters worse.” To the Elector his sovereign Luther had said that, even to-day, he “would not be able to give any different advice” and that he saw no reason to blush for it. Hence it is hard to believe that he seriously contemplated admitting that he had been guilty of an act of “folly” and had “acted foolishly.” It will be shown more clearly below what his object was in threatening such a repudiation of his advice to the Landgrave.

In his letter to Thann, Luther decides in favour of the expedient suggested by the Hessian theologians, viz. of the amphibological use of the word concubine; here it should, however, be noted, that this term, if used officially to counteract the common report concerning the new marriage, plainly implied a denial of the reality of the bigamy.

But how if the Landgrave were directly confronted in a Court of Justice with the question: Have you, or have you not, married two wives?

Here belongs the third letter of Luther’s which we have on the subject and which was despatched to Hesse before the middle of July. It is addressed to “a Hessian Councillor” who has been identified, with some probability, as the Hessian Chancellor Johann Feige.[102]

To the addressee, who was acquainted with the whole matter and had applied to Luther for his opinion on behalf of the Landgrave, the writer defines his own position still more clearly; if people say openly that the Landgrave has contracted a second marriage, all one need answer is, that this is not true, although it is true that he has contracted a secret union; hence he himself was wont to say, “the Landgrave’s other marriage is all nonsense.”

The justification of this he finds in the theory of the secrecy of confession upon which he insists strongly in this letter. Not only is his own share in the matter nil because ostensibly done in confession, but the marriage itself is merely a sort of “confession marriage,” a thing concealed and therefore non-existent so far as the world is concerned. “A secret affirmative cannot become a public affirmative ... a secret ‘yes’ remains a public ‘no’ and vice versa.... On this I take my stand; I say that the Landgrave’s second marriage is nil and cannot be convincing to anyone. For, as they say, ‘palam,’ it is not true, and although it may be true ‘clam,’ yet that they may not tell.”

He is very bitter about the Landgrave’s purpose of making the marriage and the Wittenberg “advice” public, should need arise. The fate of the latter was, in fact, his chief anxiety. “In this the Landgrave touches us too nearly, but himself even more, that he is determined to do ‘palam’ what we arranged with him ‘clam,’ and to make of a ‘nullum’ an ‘omne’; this we are unable either to defend or to answer for, and we should certainly come to high words.” The last sentence was, however, felt by Luther to be too strong and he accordingly struck it out of the letter.

He also says that the Landgrave’s appeal to his sermon on Genesis would be of no avail, because he (Luther) had taught, both previous to and after it, that the law of Moses was not to be introduced, though some of it “might be used secretly in cases of necessity, or even publicly by order of the authorities.” But advice extorted from him in Confession by the distress of a suffering conscience could “not be held to constitute a true precedent in law.” He here touches upon a thought to which he was to return in entirely different circumstances: Neither the preachers, nor the Gospel, lay down outward laws, not even concerning religion; the secular authorities are the only legislators; ecclesiastical guidance comprises only advice, direction and the expounding of Scripture, and has to do only with the interior life, being without any jurisdiction, even spiritual; as public men, the pastors were appointed to preach, pray and give advice; to the individual they rendered service amidst the “secret needs of conscience.”[103]

He thereby absolves himself from the consequence apparently involved in the step he had taken, viz. the introduction of polygamy as a “general right”; it does not follow that: “What you do from necessity, I have a right to do”; “necessity knows no law or precedent,” hence a man who is driven by hunger to steal bread, or who kills in self-defence is not punished, yet what thus holds in cases of necessity cannot be taken as a law or rule. On the other hand, Luther will not listen to the proposal then being made in Hesse, viz. that, in order to counteract the bad example, a special edict should be issued declaring polygamy unlawful as a general rule, but allowable in an exceptional case, on the strength “of secret advice given in Confession”; on the contrary, it would be far better simply to denounce polygamy as unlawful.

Hence if the Landgrave, so Luther concludes, “will not forsake the sweetheart” on whom “he has so set his heart that she has become a need to him,” and if, moreover, he will “keep her out of the way,” then “we theologians and confessors shall vindicate it before God, as a case of necessity to be excused by the examples of Genesis. But defend it before the world and ‘iure nunc regente,’ that we cannot and shall not do. Short of this the Landgrave may count upon our best service.”

The Landgrave was, however, not satisfied with either of these letters, both of which came into his hands. He wanted from Luther a clear and public admission of his share in the business, which, to the Prince’s peril, had now become as good as public, and threatened to constitute a precedent. By this invitation the Prince naturally released Luther from all obligation of secrecy. Even the making public of the immorality, which had served as a pretext for the new marriage, he did not mind in the least, for his laxity in morals was already a matter of common knowledge; he discussed his lapses with the theologians as openly as though all of them had been his confessors and spiritual directors; he was also quite ready to repeat his admissions, “as in Confession,” before secular witnesses. Such was the depth of depravity into which his passions had brought him.

Yielding to pressure brought to bear on him by Saxony, Luther had meanwhile conceived the idea of publishing a work against polygamy. The new expedient had indeed been foreshadowed in his last letter. On June 17, 1540, Jonas wrote to George of Anhalt that Luther might be expected to write a work “Contra polygamiam.”[104] Martin Beyer of Schaffhausen, on his return from Wittenberg, also brought the news, so Bullinger was informed, that “Luther was being compelled by the Hessian business to write a work against the plurality of wives.”[105]

The project was, however, never realised, probably on account of the insuperable difficulties it involved.

But though this work never saw the light, history has preserved for us a number of Luther’s familiar conversations, dating from this period and taken down directly from his lips, utterances which have every claim to consideration and faithfully mirror his thoughts.

Luther’s Private Utterances Regarding the Bigamy.

The Table-Talk, dating from the height of the hubbub caused by the bigamy, affords us a vivid psychological picture of Luther.

Of this Table-Talk we have the detailed and authentic notes from the pen of Johann Mathesius, who was present. These notes, in their best form, became known only in 1903, thanks to Kroker’s edition, but, for the better understanding of Luther’s personality, his intimate descriptions of what was passing in his mind are of inestimable value. Conjointly with the principal passage, which probably dates from June 18, 1540, other sayings dropped regarding the same matter may be considered.[106]

The scene in the main was as follows: The usual guests, among them the disciples with their note-books, were assembled after the evening meal in Luther’s house, grouped around the master, who seemed sunk in thought; Melanchthon, however, was missing, for he lay seriously ill at Weimar, overwhelmed by anxiety now that his consent to the bigamy was leaking out. Whilst yet at table two letters were handed to Luther, the first from Brück, the Electoral Chancellor, the second from the Elector himself. Both referred to Melanchthon. The Elector requested Luther to betake himself as soon as possible to Weimar to his friend, who seemed in danger of death, and informed him at the same time of the measures threatened by the Landgrave in the matter of the second marriage.

Luther, after glancing at Brück’s missive concerning Melanchthon, said to the guests: “Philip is pining away for vexation, and has fallen into a fever (‘tertiana’). But why does the good fellow crucify himself so about this business? All his anxiety will do no good. I do wish I were with him! I know how sensitive he is. The scandal pains him beyond measure. I, on the other hand, have a thick skin, I am a peasant, a hard Saxon when such × are concerned.[107] I expect I shall be summoned to Philip.”

Someone thereupon interjected the remark: “Doctor, perhaps the Colloquium [which was to be held at Hagenau] will not now take place”; Luther replied: “They will certainly have to wait for us....”

A second messenger now came in with the Elector’s letter, conveying the expected summons to proceed to Weimar. On the reader the news it contained concerning the Landgrave fell like the blows of a sledge-hammer. After attentively perusing the letter “with an earnest mien,” he said: “Philip the Landgrave is cracked; he is now asking the Emperor to let him keep both wives.”

The allusion to the Landgrave’s mental state is explained by a former statement of Luther’s made in connection with some words uttered by the Landgrave’s father: “The old Landgrave [William II] used to say to his son Philip: ‘If you take after your mother, then you won’t come to much; if you take after me, you will have nothing about you that I can praise; if you take after both of us, then you will be a real demon.’” Luther had added: “I fear he is also mad, for it runs in the family.”[108] “And Philip [Melanchthon] said: ‘This [the bigamy] is the beginning of his insanity.’”[109]

When Luther re-entered, so the narrator continues, “he was as cheerful as could be, and he said to us: ‘It is grand having something to do, for then we get ideas; otherwise we do nothing but feed and swill. How our Papists will scream! But let them howl to their own destruction. Our cause is a good one and no fault is to be found with our way of life, or rather [he corrects himself] with the life of those who take it seriously. If the Hessian Landgrave has sinned, then that is sin and a scandal. That we have frequently discounselled by good and holy advice; they have seen our innocence and yet refuse to see it. Hence they [the Papists] are now forced to look the Hessian in anum[110] (i.e. are witnesses of his shame). But they will be brought to destruction by [our] scandals because they refuse to listen to the pure doctrine; for God will not on this account forsake us or His Word, or spare them, even though we have our share of sin, for He has resolved to overthrow the Papacy. That has been decreed by God, as we read in Daniel, where it is foretold of him [Antichrist] who is even now at the door: “And none shall help him” (Dan. xi. 45). In former times no power was able to root out the Pope; in our own day no one will be able to help him, because Antichrist is revealed.’”

Thus amidst the trouble looming he finds his chief consolation in his fanatical self-persuasion that the Papacy must fall and that he is the chosen instrument to bring this about, i.e. in his supposed mission to thwart Antichrist, a Divine mission which could not be contravened. Hence his pseudo-mysticism was once again made to serve his purpose.

“If scandals occur amongst us,” he continues, “let us not forget that they existed in Christ’s own circle. The Pharisees were doubtless in glee over our Lord Christ on account of the wickedness of Judas. In the same way the Landgrave has become a Judas to us. ‘Ah, the new prophet has such followers [as Judas, cried the foes of Christ!] What good can come of Christ?’—But because they refused to open their eyes to the miracles, they were forced to see ‘Christum Crucifixum’ and ... later to see and suffer under Titus. But our sins may obtain pardon and be easily remedied; it is only necessary that the Emperor should forbid [the bigamy], or that our Princes should intercede [for the Hessian], which they are at liberty to do, or that he should repudiate the step he took.”

“David also fell, and surely there were greater scandals under Moses in the wilderness. Moses caused his own masters to be slain.... But God had determined to drive out the heathen, hence the scandals amongst the Jews availed not to prevent it. Thus, too, our sins are pardonable, but not those of the Papists; for they are contemners of God, crucify Christ and, though they know better, defend their blasphemies.”

“What advantage do they expect of it,” he goes on to ask in an ironical vein; “they put men to death, but we work for life and take many wives.” This he said, according to the notes, “with a joyful countenance and amidst loud laughter.”[111] “God has resolved to vex the people, and, when my turn comes, I will give them hard words and tell them to look Marcolfus ‘in anum’ since they refuse to look him in the face.” He then went on: “I don’t see why I should trouble myself about the matter. I shall commend it to our God. Should the Macedonian [the Landgrave] desert us, Christ will stand by us, the blessed Schevlimini [כש ליםיבי : Sit at my right hand (Ps. cix. 1)]. He has surely brought us out of even tighter places. The restitution of Würtemberg puts this scandal into the shade, and the Sacramentarians and the revolt [of the Peasants]; and yet God delivered us out of all that.” What he means to say is: Even greater scandal was given by Philip of Hesse when he imposed on Würtemberg the Protestant Duke Ulrich, heedless of the rights of King Ferdinand and of the opposition of the Emperor and the Church;[112] in the same way the ever-recurring dissensions on the Sacrament were an even greater scandal, and so was the late Peasant War which threatened worse things to the Evangelical cause than the Hessian affair.