CHAPTER IV

Tezel approaches—Luther at the Confessional—Tezel’s Rage—Luther without a Plan—Jealousy among the Orders—Luther’s Discourse—The Elector’s Dream. In so far as we know, Luther heard of Tezel, for the first time, at Grimma, in 1516, when he was on the eve of beginning his visit to the churches. While Staupitz was still with Luther, it was told him that an indulgence merchant was making a great noise at Vürzen. Even some of his extravagant sayings were quoted. Luther’s indignation was roused, and he exclaimed, “Please God, I’ll make a hole in his drum.”

Tezel, on his return from Berlin, where he had met with a most friendly reception from the elector Joachim, brother of the farmer-general, took up his head-quarters at Juterboch. Staupitz, availing himself of his influence with the elector Frederick, had often represented to him the abuses of the indulgences, and the scandalous proceedings of the mendicants, and the princes of Saxony feeling indignant at the shameful traffic, had forbidden the merchant to enter their territory. He was, accordingly, obliged to remain on those of the Archbishop of Magdeburg, but at the same time came as near to Saxony as he could, Juterboch being only four miles from Wittemberg. “This great thresher of purses,” says Luther, “set about threshing³ the country in grand style, so that the money began to leap, tumble, and tinkle, in his chest.” The people of Wittemberg went in crowds to the indulgence market of Juterboch. At this period Luther had the highest respect for the church and for the pope. “I was then,” said he, “a monk, a most bigoted Papist, so intoxicated and imbued with the doctrines of Rome, that if I had been able I would willingly have lent a hand in killing any one audacious enough to refuse obedience to the pope in the minutest matter. I was a real Saul, as many still are.” But, at the same time, his heart was ready to declare in favour of all that he believed to be truth, and against all that he believed to be error. “I was a young doctor just of the irons, ardent and rejoicing in the word of the Lord.”⁵

One day when Luther had taken his seat in the confessional at Wittemberg, several citizens of the town came before him, and one after another confessed the grossest immoralities. Adultery, libertinism, usury, ill-gotten wealth, were the crimes with which the minister of the word was entertained by persons of whose souls he was one day to give account. He rebukes, corrects, and instructs them; but what is his astonishment when these people tell him that they don’t choose to abandon their sins?… Quite amazed, the pious monk declares, that since they refuse to promise amendment, he cannot give them absolution. The wretched creatures then appealed to their letters of indulgence, exhibiting them and extolling their virtues. But Luther replied, that he cared little for the paper which they had shown him, and added, unless you repent, you will all perish. They made an outcry, and expostulated, but the doctor was immovable; “they must cease to do evil, and learn to do well, … otherwise no absolution.” “Beware,” added he, “of lending an ear to the harangues of the venders of indulgences; you might be better employed than in buying those licences which are sold you for the most paltry sum.”

Much alarmed, these inhabitants of Wittemberg hastened back to Tezel to tell him how his letters were disregarded by an Augustin monk. Tezel, on hearing this, became red with fury, crying, and stamping, and cursing in the pulpit. To strike a deeper terror into the people, he repeatedly kindled a fire in the market-place, declaring he had received orders from the pope to burn all heretics who should dare to oppose his holy indulgences.

Such is the circumstance, which was not the cause, but the first occasion of the Reformation. A pastor seeing the sheep of his flock in a path which must lead them to destruction, makes an effort to deliver them. As yet, he has no thought of reforming the church and the world. He has seen Rome and its corruptions, but he declares not against Rome. He perceives some of the abuses under which Christianity is groaning, but has no thought of correcting these abuses. He has no desire to become Reformer. He has no plan for the reformation of the Church any more than he had had one for himself. God intends reform, and for reform selects Luther. The same remedy which had proved so powerful in curing his own wretchedness, the hand of God will employ by him to cure the miseries of Christendom. He remains quiet in the sphere which is assigned to him, walking merely where his Master calls him, and fulfilling his duties as professor, preacher, and pastor, at Wittemberg. While seated in the church, his hearers come and open their hearts to him. Evil makes an assault upon him, and error seeks him out, of her own accord. He is interfered with in the discharge of his duty, and his conscience, which is bound to the word of God, resists. Is it not God that calls him? To resist is a duty, and being a duty, is also a right. He has no alternative but to speak. In this way were events ordered by that God who was pleased, says Mathesius, “to restore Christendom by means of the son of a forge master, and to purify the impure doctrine of the church, by making it pass through his furnaces.”

Having given this detail, it must be unnecessary to refute a false imputation invented by some of Luther’s enemies, but not till after his death. Jealousy for his order, it has been said, grief at seeing a shameful and condemned traffic entrusted to the Dominicans in preference to the Augustins, who had hitherto enjoyed it, led the doctor of Wittemberg to attack Tezel and his doctrines. The well known fact that this traffic was first offered to the Augustins, who refused it, is sufficient to refute this fable, which has been repeated by writers who have copied each other; even Cardinal Pallavicini states that the Augustins never had discharged this office. Besides, we have seen the travail of Luther’s soul. His conduct needs no other explanation. It was impossible for him not to make open profession of the doctrine to which he owed his happiness. In Christianity, every man who finds a blessing longs to make others partakers in it. In our day it is time to abandon those puerile explanations which are unworthy of the great revolution of the sixteenth century. To lift a world, a more powerful lever was required. The Reformation existed not in Luther only; it was the offspring of his age.

Luther impelled equally by obedience to the truth of God, and by charity towards men, mounted the pulpit. He forewarned his hearers; but, as he himself says, he did it gently. His prince had obtained particular indulgences from the pope for the church of the castle of Wittemberg, and it was possible that some of the blows which he was going to level at the indulgences in question might fall on those of the Elector. No matter; he will run the risk. If he sought to please men, he would not be the servant of Christ.

“No man can prove by Scripture,” says the faithful minister of the Word to the people of Wittemberg, “that the justice of God exacts a penalty or satisfaction from the sinner; the only duty which it imposes upon him is true repentance, sincere conversion, a resolution to bear the cross of Jesus Christ, and to be diligent in good works. It is a great error to think we can ourselves satisfy the justice of God for our sins. He always pardons them gratuitously by his inestimable grace.

“The Christian Church, it is true, requires something from the sinner, and consequently has the power of remitting what she so requires, but that is all. Even these indulgences of the Church are tolerated, only on account of indolent and imperfect Christians, who will not zealously exercise themselves in good works. For they stimulate none to sanctification, but leave all in imperfection.”

Then adverting to the pretext under which the indulgences were published, he continues:—“It would be much better to contribute to the erection of St. Peter’s church from love to God, than to purchase indulgences in this view.… But you ask, Are we then never to purchase them? I have already said, and I repeat it; my advice is, Don’t purchase. Leave them to sleepy Christians, but do you walk apart in your own path. The faithful must be diverted from indulgences, and urged to do the works which they neglect.” At last, glancing at his adversaries, Luther concludes thus:—“If some cry out that I am a heretic, (for the truth which I preach is very hurtful to their strong box,) their clamour gives me little concern. They are dull and sickly brains, men who never felt the Bible, never read Christian doctrine, never comprehended their own teachers, and who turn to rottenness, wrapped up in the tatters of their vain opinions, … God grant them and us a sound mind. Amen.” After these words, the doctor descended from the pulpit, leaving his hearers in astonishment at his bold language. This sermon was printed, and made a deep impression on all who read it. Tezel answered it, and Luther replied; but these discussions did not take place till a later period, (1518). The feast of All Saints drew near. The chronicles of that day here relate a circumstance, which, though not important to the history of the period, may, however, serve to characterise it. It is a dream of the Elector, which in substance is unquestionably authentic, though several circumstances may have been added by those who have related it. It is mentioned by Seckendorf, who observes, that the fear of giving their adversaries ground to say that the doctrine of Luther was founded upon dreams, has perhaps prevented several historians from speaking of it. The Elector Frederick of Saxony, say the chronicles of the time, was at his castle of Schweinitz, six leagues from Wittemberg. On the morning of the 31st October, being in company with his brother Duke John, who was then co-regent, and became sole elector after his death, and with his chancellor, the Elector said to the Duke,

“Brother, I must tell you a dream which I had last night, and the meaning of which I should like much to know. It is so deeply impressed on my mind, that I will never forget it, were I to live a thousand years. For I dreamed it thrice, and each time with new circumstances.”

Duke John.—“Is it a good or a bad dream?” The Elector.—“I know not; God knows.”

Duke John.—“Don’t be uneasy at it; but be so good as tell it to me.” The Elector.—“Having gone to bed last night, fatigued and out of spirits, I fell asleep shortly after my prayer, and slept quietly for about two hours and a half; I then awoke, and continued awake till midnight, all sorts of thoughts passing through my mind. Among other things, I thought how I was to observe the feast of All Saints. I prayed for the poor souls in purgatory, and supplicated God to guide me, my counsels, and my people, according to truth. I again fell asleep, and then dreamed that Almighty God sent me a monk, who was a true son of the Apostle Paul. All the saints accompanied him by order of God, in order to bear testimony before me, and to declare that he did not come to contrive any plot, but that all that he did was according to the will of God. They asked me to have the goodness graciously to permit him to write something on the door of the church of the castle of Wittemberg. This I granted through my chancellor. Thereupon the monk went to the church, and began to write in such large characters, that I could read the writing at Schweinitz. The pen which he used was so large that its end reached as far as Rome, where it pierced the ears of a lion that was couching there, and caused the triple crown upon the head of the pope to shake. All the cardinals and princes running hastily up, tried to prevent it from falling. You and I, brother, wished also to assist, and I stretched out my arm.… but at this moment I awoke, with my arm in the air, quite amazed, and very much enraged at the monk for not managing his pen better. I recollected myself a little: it was only a dream.

“I was still half asleep, and once more closed my eyes. The dream returned. The lion, still annoyed by the pen, began to roar with all his might, so much so that the whole city of Rome and all the states of the holy empire, ran to see what the matter was. The pope requested them to oppose this monk, and applied particularly to me, on account of his being in my country. I again awoke, repeated the Lord’s Prayer, entreated God to preserve his Holiness, and once more fell asleep.

“Then I dreamed that all the princes of the empire, and we among them, hastened to Rome, and strove one after another to break the pen; but the more we tried the stiffer it became, sounding as if it had been made of iron. We at length desisted. I then asked the monk (for I was sometimes at Rome and sometimes at Wittemberg) where he got this pen, and why it was so strong. ‘The pen,’ replied he, ‘belonged to an old goose of Bohemia, a hundred years old. I got it from one of my old school-masters. As to its strength, it is owing to the impossibility of depriving it of its pith or marrow, and I am quite astonished at it myself.’ Suddenly I heard a loud noise; a large number of other pens had sprung out of the long pen of the monk.… I awoke a third time; it was daylight.…”

Duke John.—“Chancellor, what is your opinion? Would we had a Joseph or a Daniel enlightened by God!”

Chancellor.—“Your Highnesses know the common proverb, that the dreams of young girls, learned men, and great lords, have usually some hidden meaning. The meaning of this dream, however, we will not be able to know for some time; not till the things to which it relates have taken place. Wherefore, leave the accomplishment to God, and place it wholly in his hand.”

Duke John.—“I am of your opinion, Chancellor; ’tis not fit for us to annoy ourselves in attempting to discover the meaning; the God will overrule all for his glory.”

Elector.—“May our faithful God do so; yet I will never forget this dream. I have indeed thought of an interpretation, but I keep it to myself. Time, perhaps, will show if I have been a good diviner.”

Thus, according to the manuscript of Weimar, the morning of 31st of October was spent at Schweinitz. Let us see how the evening was spent at Wittemberg. We again return to the province of History.