CHAPTER IX

First Theses—The Old Man and Grace—Visit to the Convents—Dresden—Erfurt—Tornator—Peace and the Cross—Results of the Journey—Labours—The Plague. The instructions of Luther bore fruit. Several of his disciples already felt themselves urged publicly to profess the truths which the lessons of their master had revealed to them. Among his hearers was a learned youth, named Bernard of Feldkirchen, professor of the physics of Aristotle in the university, and who, five years afterwards, was the first of the evangelical ecclesiastics who entered into the bond of matrimony.

Luther, while he was presiding, desired Feldkirchen to maintain theses in which his principles were expounded. The doctrines professed by Luther thus acquired new publicity. The disputation took place in 1516, and was Luther’s first attack on the reign of the sophists and the Papacy. However feeble it was, it gave him considerable uneasiness. “I allow these propositions to be printed,” said he, many years after, on publishing them in his works, “principally in order that the greatness of my cause, and the success with which God has crowned it, may not puff me up. For they fully manifest my shame; that is to say, the infirmity and ignorance, the fear and trembling, with which I commenced this struggle. I was alone, and had imprudently plunged into this affair. Not being able to draw back, I conceded several important points to the pope, and even adored him.” The following are some of these propositions:— “The old man is vanity of vanities—he is wholly vanity, and renders all other creatures vain, how good soever they be.

“The old man is called the flesh, not only because he is led by sensual lusts, but also because, even though he were chaste, prudent, and just, he is not born anew of God by the Spirit.

“A man who is without the grace of God cannot observe the commands of God, nor prepare himself, in whole or in part, to receive grace, but necessarily remains under sin.

“The will of man without grace is not free, but enslaved, and that voluntarily.

“Jesus Christ, our strength and our righteousness, who trieth the hearts and reins, is alone the Searcher and Judge of our merits.

“Since everything is possible through Christ to him who believeth, it is superstitious to seek other aid, whether in the will of man or in the saints.” This disputation made a great noise, and has been considered as the commencement of the Reformation. The moment approached when this reformation was to burst forth. God was hastening to prepare the instrument which he meant to employ. The elector having built a new church at Wittemberg, to which he gave the name of “All-Saints,” sent Staupitz into the Netherlands to collect the relics with which he was desirous to enrich it. The vicar-general ordered Luther to take his place during his absence, and in particular to pay a visit to forty monasteries in Misnia and Thuringia.

Luther repaired first to Grimma, and thence to Dresden, everywhere labouring to establish the truths which he had ascertained, and to enlighten the members of his own order. “Don’t attach yourself to Aristotle, or to other teachers of a deceitful philosophy,” said he to the monks, “but diligently read the word of God. Seek not your salvation in your own strength, and your own good works, but in the merits of Christ, and in Divine grace.” An Augustin monk of Dresden had run off from his convent, and was living at Mayence, where the prior of the Augustins had received him. Luther wrote to the prior to demand restitution of the lost sheep, and added these words, which are full of truth and charity, “I know that offences must come. It is no wonder that man falls; but it is a wonder he rises again, and stands erect. Peter fell, in order that he might know that he was a man; and we still see the cedar of Lebanon fall. Angels even (a thing which surpasses our comprehension) fell in heaven, and Adam fell in paradise. Why then be astonished when a reed is shaken by the wind, and the smoking flax is quenched?” From Dresden, Luther proceeded to Erfurt, to do the duties of vicar-general in the very convent where, eleven years before, he had wound up the clock, opened the door, and swept the Church. He appointed his friend, bachelor John Lange, a learned and pious, but austere man, prior of the convent, exhorting him to affability and patience. Shortly after he wrote him, “Show a spirit of meekness towards the prior of Nuremberg. This is fitting, inasmuch as the prior has put on a sour and bitter spirit. Bitter is not expelled by bitter, that is to say, devil by devil; but sweet expels bitter, that is to say, the finger of God casts out demons.”³ It must perhaps be regretted, that on different occasions Luther did not remember this excellent advice. At Neustadt on Orla there was nothing but division. Quarrelling and disturbance reigned in the convent. All the monks were at war with the prior, and assailed Luther with their complaints. The prior, Michael Dressel, or Tornator, as Luther calls him, translating his name into Latin, on his part explained all his grievances to the doctor. “Peace! peace!” said he. “You seek peace,” replied Luther, “but you seek the peace of the world, and not that of Christ. Know you not that our God has placed his peace in the midst of war? He whom nobody troubles has no peace. But he who, troubled by all men, and by all the things of life, bears all calmly and joyfully, possesses true peace. You say, with Israel, Peace, peace; and there is no peace. Say rather with Christ, The cross, the cross; and there will be no cross. For the cross ceases to be a cross as soon as we can sincerely say with joy, O blessed cross, there is no wood like thine!” After his return to Wittemberg, Luther, wishing to put an end to these divisions allowed the monks to elect another prior.

Luther returned to Wittemberg after an absence of six weeks. He was grieved at all that he had seen, but the journey gave him a better acquaintance with the Church and the world; gave him more confidence in his intercourse with men and furnished him with numerous opportunities of founding schools, and urging this fundamental truth, that “the Holy Scripture alone shows us the way to heaven,” and to exhort the brethren to live together holily, chastely, and peacefully. Doubtless, much seed was sown in the different Augustin convents during this journey of the Reformer. The monastic orders, which had long been the stay of Rome, perhaps did more for the Reformation than against it. This is true especially of the order of Augustins. Almost all pious men of a free and exalted spirit who were in cloisters, turned to the gospel, and a new and noble blood soon circulated in their orders, which were in a manner the arteries of German Catholicity. The world knew nothing of the new ideas of the Augustin of Wittemberg, after they had become the great subject of conversation in chapters and monasteries. In this way, more than one cloister was a seminary of reformers. At the moment when the great blow was struck, pious and brave men came forth from their obscurity, and abandoned the retreat of the monastic life, for the active career of ministers of the word of God. Even during the inspection of 1516, Luther by his words awoke many slumbering spirits, and hence this year has been called “the morning star of the gospel day.”

Luther resumed his ordinary avocations. At this period he was oppressed with work; it was not enough that he was professor, preacher, and confessor; he had, moreover, a variety of temporal business connected with his order and his convent. “I almost constantly require two clerks,” wrote he; “for I do little else the whole day than write letters. I am preacher to the convent, chaplain at table, pastor and parish minister, director of studies, vice-prior, which means prior eleven times over, inspector of the ponds of Litzkau, advocate of the inns of Herzberg at Torgau, reader of St. Paul, commentator on the Psalms.… I have seldom time to say my Hours and chant,—to say nothing of my combat with flesh and blood, the devil and the world.… See how lazy a man I am.”

About this time the plague broke out in Wittemberg, and a great part of the students and teachers left the town. Luther remained. “I don’t well know,” wrote he to his friend at Erfurt, “if the plague will allow me to finish the Epistle to the Galatians. Prompt and brisk, it makes great ravages, especially among the young. You advise me to flee. Whither shall I flee? I hope the world will not go to wreck though friar Martin fall. If the plague makes progress, I will disperse the friars in all directions, but for myself I am stationed here, and obedience permits me not to flee, till he who has called me recall me. Not that I do not fear death, (for I am not the Apostle Paul, I am only his commentator;) but I hope the Lord will deliver me from fear.” Such was the firmness of the doctor of Wittemberg. Will he, whom the plague could not force to recoil one step, recoil before Rome? Will he yield to the power of the scaffold?