131. In order to understand the Europe of Charles V and the constant wars which occupied him all his life, we must turn back and review the questions which had been engaging the attention of his fellow-kings before he came to the throne. It is particularly necessary to see clearly how Italy had suddenly become the center of commotion,—the battlefield for Spain, France, and Germany.

[Sidenote: Charles VIII of France invades Italy.]

Charles VIII of France (1483-1498) possessed little of the practical sagacity of his father, Louis XI. He dreamed of a mighty expedition against the Turks and of the conquest of Constantinople. As the first step he determined to lead an army into Italy and assert his claim, inherited from his father, to the kingdom of Naples, which was in the hands of the house of Aragon.[258] While Italy had everything to lose by permitting a powerful monarch to get a foothold in the South, there was no probability that the various little states into which the peninsula was divided would lay aside their perpetual animosities and combine against the invader. On the contrary, Charles VIII was urged by some of the Italians themselves to come.

[Sidenote: Savonarola and Charles VIII.]

Had Lorenzo the Magnificent still been alive, he might have organized a league to oppose the French king, but he had died in 1492, two years before Charles started. Lorenzo's sons failed to maintain the influence over the people of Florence which their father had enjoyed; and the leadership of the city fell into the hands of the Dominican friar, Savonarola, whose fervid preaching attracted and held for a time the attention of the fickle Florentine populace. He believed himself to be a prophet, and proclaimed that God was about to scourge Italy for its iniquities, and that men should flee before His wrath by renouncing their lives of sin and pleasure.

When Savonarola heard of the French invasion, it appeared to him that this was indeed the looked-for scourge of God, which might afflict, but would also purify, the Church. His prophecies seemed to be fulfilled, and his listeners were stricken with terror. As Charles approached Florence, the people rose in revolt against the Medici, sacked their palaces, and drove out the three sons of Lorenzo. Savonarola became the chief figure in the new republic which was established. Charles was admitted into Florence, but his ugly, insignificant figure disappointed the Florentines. They soon made it clear to him that they would not regard him in any sense as a conqueror, and would oppose a prolonged occupation by the French. Savonarola said to him: "The people are afflicted by your stay in Florence, and you waste your time. God has called you to renew His Church. Go forth to your high calling lest God visit you in His wrath and choose another instrument in your stead to carry out His designs." So, after a week's stay, the French army left Florence and proceeded on its southward journey.

[Sidenote: The popes since the Great Schism.]

The next power with which Charles VIII had to deal was represented by a person in every way the opposite of the Dominican monk—Pope Alexander VI. After the troubles of the Great Schism and the councils, the popes had set to work to organize their possessions in central Italy into a compact principality. For a time they seemed to be little more than Italian princes. But they did not make rapid progress in their political enterprises because, in the first place, they were usually advanced in years before they came to power and so had little time to carry out their projects; and, in the second place, they showed too much anxiety to promote the interests of their relatives. The selfish, unscrupulous means employed by these worldly prelates naturally brought great discredit upon the Church.

[Sidenote: Pope Alexander VI and Csar Borgia.]

There was probably never a more openly profligate Italian despot than Alexander VI (1493-1503) of the notorious Spanish house of Borgia. He frankly set to work to advance the interests of his children, as if he were merely a secular ruler. For one of his sons, Csar Borgia, he proposed to form a duchy east of Florence. Csar outdid his father in crime. He not only entrapped and mercilessly slaughtered his enemies, but had his brother assassinated and thrown into the Tiber. Both he and his father were accused of constant recourse to poisoning, in which art they were popularly supposed to have gained extraordinary proficiency. It is noteworthy that when Machiavelli prepared his Prince,[259] he chose for his hero Csar Borgia, as possessing in the highest degree those qualities which went to make up a successful Italian ruler.

The pope was greatly perturbed by the French invasion, and in spite of the fact that he was the head of Christendom, he entered into negotiations with the Turkish sultan in the hope of gaining aid against the French king. He could not, however, prevent Charles from entering Rome and later continuing on his way to Naples.

[Sidenote: Charles VIII leaves Italy unconquered.]

The success of the French king seemed marvelous, for even Naples speedily fell into his hands. But he and his troops were demoralized by the wines and other pleasures of the South, and meanwhile his enemies at last began to form a combination against him. Ferdinand of Aragon was fearful lest he might lose Sicily, and Maximilian objected to having the French control Italy. Charles' situation became so precarious that he may well have thought himself fortunate, at the close of 1495, to escape, with the loss of only a single battle, from the country he had hoped to conquer.

[Sidenote: Results of Charles' expedition.]

The results of Charles' expedition appear at first sight trivial; in reality they were momentous. In the first place, it was now clear to Europe that the Italians had no real national feeling, however much they might despise the "barbarians" who lived north of the Alps. From this time down to the latter half of the nineteenth century, Italy was dominated by foreign nations, especially Spain and Austria. In the second place, the French learned to admire the art and culture of Italy. The nobles began to change their feudal castles, which since the invention of gunpowder were no longer impregnable, into luxurious country houses. The new scholarship of Italy took root and flourished not only in France, but in England and Germany as well. Consequently, just as Italy was becoming, politically, the victim of foreign aggressions, it was also losing, never to regain, that intellectual preminence which it had enjoyed since the revival of interest in classical literature.

[Sidenote: Savonarola's reforms in Florence.]

After Charles VIII's departure, Savonarola continued his reformation with the hope of making Florence a model state which should lead to the regeneration of the world. At first he carried all before him, and at the Carnival of 1496 there were no more of the gorgeous exhibitions and reckless gayety which had pleased the people under Lorenzo the Magnificent. The next year the people were induced to make a great bonfire, in the spacious square before the City Hall, of all the "vanities" which stood in the way of a godly life—frivolous and immoral books, pictures, jewels, and trinkets.

[Sidenote: Savonarola condemned and executed, 1498.]

Savonarola had enemies, however, even in his own Dominican order, while the Franciscans were naturally jealous of his renown and maintained that he was no real prophet. What was more serious, Alexander VI was bitterly hostile to the reforming friar because he urged the Florentines to remain in alliance with France. Before long even the people began to lose confidence in him. He was arrested by the pope's order in 1497 and condemned as a heretic and despiser of the Holy See. He was hanged, and his body burned, in the same square where the "vanities" had been sacrificed hardly more than a twelvemonth before.

[Sidenote: Louis XII's Italian policy.]

In the same year (1498), the romantic Charles VIII died without leaving any male heirs and was succeeded by a distant relative, Louis XII, who renewed the Italian adventures of his predecessor. As his grandmother was a member of the Milanese house of the Visconti, Louis laid claim to Milan as well as to Naples. He quickly conquered Milan, and then arranged a secret treaty with Ferdinand of Aragon (1500) for the division of the kingdom of Naples between them. It was not hard for the combined French and Spanish troops to conquer the country, but the two allies soon disagreed, and four years later Louis sold his title to Naples for a large sum to Ferdinand.

[Sidenote: Pope Julius II.]

132. Pope Julius II, who succeeded the unspeakable Alexander VI (1503), was hardly more spiritual than his predecessor. He was a warlike and intrepid old man, who did not hesitate on at least one occasion to put on a soldier's armor and lead his troops in person. Julius was a Genoese, and harbored an inveterate hatred against Genoa's great commercial rival, Venice. The Venetians especially enraged the pope by taking possession of some of the towns on the northern border of his dominions, and he threatened to reduce their city to a fishing village. The Venetian ambassador replied, "As for you, Holy Father, if you are not more reasonable, we shall reduce you to a village priest."

[Sidenote: League of Cambray against Venice, 1508.]

With the pope's encouragement, the League of Cambray was formed in 1508 for the express purpose of destroying one of the most important Italian states. The Empire, France, Spain, and the pope were to divide among them Venice's possessions on the mainland. Maximilian was anxious to gain the districts bordering upon Austria, Louis XII to extend the boundaries of his new duchy of Milan, while the pope and Ferdinand were also to have their appropriate shares.

Venice was quickly reduced to a few remnants of its Italian domains, but the Venetians hastened to make their peace with the pope, who, after receiving their humble submission, gave them his forgiveness. In spite of his previous pledges to his allies, the pope now swore to exterminate the "barbarians" whom he had so recklessly called in. He formed an alliance with Venice and induced the new king of England, Henry VIII, to attack the French king. As for Maximilian, the pope declared him as "harmless as a newborn babe." This "Holy League" against the French led to their loss of Milan and their expulsion from the Italian peninsula in 1512, but it in no way put an end to the troubles in Italy.

[Sidenote: Pope Leo X, 1513-1521.]

The bellicose Julius was followed in 1513 by Leo X, a son of Lorenzo the Magnificent. Like his father, he loved art and literature, but he was apparently utterly without religious feelings. He was willing that the war should continue, in the hope that he might be able to gain a couple of duchies for his nephews.

[Sidenote: Francis I of France, 1515-1547.]

Louis XII died and left his brilliant cousin and successor, Francis I, to attempt once more to regain Milan. The new king was but twenty years old, gracious in manner, and chivalrous in his ideals of conduct. His proudest title was "the gentleman king." Like his contemporaries, Leo X, and Henry VIII of England, he patronized the arts, and literature flourished during his reign. He was not, however, a wise statesman; he was unable to pursue a consistent policy, but, as Voltaire says, "did everything by fits and starts."

[Sidenote: Francis I in Italy.]

[Sidenote: The republic of Florence becomes the grand duchy of Tuscany.]

He opened his reign by a very astonishing victory. He led his troops into Italy over a pass which had hitherto been regarded as impracticable for cavalry, and defeated the Swiss—who were in the pope's pay—at Marignano. He then occupied Milan and opened negotiations with Leo X, who was glad to make terms with the victorious young king. The pope agreed that Francis should retain Milan, and Francis on his part acceded to Leo's plan for turning over Florence once more to the Medici. This was done, and some years later this wonderful republic became the grand duchy of Tuscany, governed by a line of petty princes under whom its former glories were never renewed.[260]

[Sidenote: Sources of discord between France and the Hapsburgs.]

Friendly relations existed at first between the two young sovereigns, Francis I and Charles V, but there were several circumstances which led to an almost incessant series of wars between them. France was clamped in between the northern and southern possessions of Charles, and had at that time no natural boundaries. Moreover, there was a standing dispute over portions of the Burgundian realms, for both Charles and Francis claimed the duchy of Burgundy and the neighboring county of Burgundy—commonly called Franche-Comt. Charles also believed that, through his grandfather, Maximilian, he was entitled to Milan, which the French kings had set their hearts upon acquiring. For a generation the rivals fought over these and other matters, and the wars between Charles and Francis were but the prelude to a conflict lasting over two centuries between France and the overgrown power of the house of Hapsburg.

[Sidenote: Henry VIII of England, 1509-1547.]

In the impending struggle it was natural that both monarchs should try to gain the aid of the king of England, whose friendship was of the greatest importance to each of them, and who was by no means loath to take a hand in European affairs. Henry VIII had succeeded his father (Henry VII) in 1509 at the age of eighteen. Like Francis, he was good-looking and graceful, and in his early years made a very happy impression upon those who came in contact with him. He gained much popularity by condemning to death the two men who had been most active in extorting the "benevolences" which his father had been wont to require of unwilling givers. With a small but important class, his learning brought him credit. He married, for his first wife, an aunt of Charles V, Catherine of Aragon, and chose as his chief adviser Thomas Wolsey, whose career and sudden downfall were to be strangely associated with the fate of the unfortunate Spanish princess.[261]

[Sidenote: Charles V goes to Germany.]

In 1520 Charles V started for Germany to receive the imperial crown at Aix-la-Chapelle. On his way he landed in England with the purpose of keeping Henry from forming an alliance with Francis. He judged the best means to be that of freely bribing Wolsey, who had been made a cardinal by Leo X, and who was all-powerful with Henry. Charles therefore bestowed on the cardinal a large annuity in addition to one which he had granted him somewhat earlier. He then set sail for the Netherlands, where he was duly crowned king of the Romans. From there he proceeded, for the first time, to Germany, where he summoned his first diet at Worms. The most important business of the assembly proved to be the consideration of the case of a university professor, Martin Luther, who was accused of writing heretical books, and who had in reality begun what proved to be the first successful revolt against the seemingly all-powerful medival Church.

General Reading.—For the Italian wars of Charles VIII and Louis XII, Cambridge Modern History (The Macmillan Company, $3.75 per vol.), Vol. I, Chapter IV; JOHNSON, Europe in the Sixteenth Century (The Macmillan Company, $1.75), Chapter I; DYERand HASSALL, Modern Europe (The Macmillan Company, 6 vols., $2.00 each), Vol. I; CREIGHTON, History of the Papacy (see above, p. 320), Vols. IV, V. For Savonarola, Cambridge Modern History, Vol. I, Chapter V; CREIGHTON, Vol. IV, Chapter VIII; LEA, History of the Inquisition (see above, p. 232), Vol. III, pp. 209-237; SYMONDS, Age of Despots (see above, p. 352), Chapter IX; PASTOR, History of the Popes (see above, p. 320), Vol. V. For Spain, Cambridge Modern History, Vol. I, Chapter XI.



CHAPTER XXIV

GERMANY BEFORE THE PROTESTANT REVOLT

[Sidenote: Two unsuccessful revolts preceded the Protestant revolution.]

133. By far the most important event in the sixteenth century and one of the most momentous in the history of the western world, was the revolt of a considerable portion of northern and western Europe from the medival Church. There had been but two serious rebellions earlier. The first of these was that of the Albigenses in southern France in the thirteenth century; this had been fearfully punished, and the Inquisition had been established to ferret out and bring to trial those who were disloyal to the Church. Then, some two centuries later, the Bohemians, under the inspiration of Wycliffe's writings, had attempted to introduce customs different from those which prevailed elsewhere in the Church. They, too, had been forced, after a terrific series of conflicts, once more to accept the old system.

[Sidenote: Luther secedes from the Church, 1520.]

Finally, however, in spite of the great strength and the wonderful organization of the Church, it became apparent that it was no longer possible to keep all of western Europe under the sway of the pope. In the autumn of 1520, Professor Martin Luther called together the students of the University of Wittenberg, led them outside the town walls, and there burned the constitution and statutes of the medival Church, i.e., the canon law. In this way he publicly proclaimed and illustrated his purpose to repudiate the existing Church with many of its doctrines and practices. Its head he defied by destroying the papal bull directed against his teachings.

[Sidenote: Origin of the two great religious parties in western Europe,—the Catholics and Protestants.]

Other leaders, in Germany, Switzerland, England, and elsewhere, organized separate revolts; rulers decided to accept the teachings of the reformers, and used their power to promote the establishment of churches independent of the pope. In this way western Europe came to be divided into two great religious parties. The majority of its people continued to regard the pope as their religious head and to accept the institutions under which their forefathers had lived since the times of Theodosius. In general, those regions (except England) which had formed a part of the Roman empire remained Roman Catholic in their belief. On the other hand, northern Germany, a part of Switzerland, England, Scotland, and the Scandinavian countries sooner or later rejected the headship of the pope and many of the institutions and doctrines of the medival Church, and organized new religious institutions. The Protestants, as those who seceded from the Church of Rome were called, by no means agreed among themselves what particular system should replace the old one. They were at one, however, in ceasing to obey the pope and in proposing to revert to the early Church as their model and accepting the Bible as their sole guide.[262]

[Sidenote: Revolt against the medival Church implied a general revolution.]

To revolt against the Church was to inaugurate a fundamental revolution in many of the habits and customs of the people. It was not merely a change of religious belief, for the Church permeated every occupation and dominated every social interest. For centuries it had directed and largely controlled education, high and low. Each and every important act in the home, in the guild, in the town, was accompanied by religious ceremonies. The clergy of the Roman Catholic Church had hitherto written most of the books; they sat in the government assemblies, acted as the rulers' most trusted ministers, constituted, in short, outside of Italy, the only really educated class. Their rle and the rle of the Church were incomparably more important than that of any church which exists to-day.

[Sidenote: The wars of religion.]

Just as the medival Church was by no means an exclusively religious institution, so the Protestant revolt was by no means simply a religious change, but a social and political one as well. The conflicts which the attempt to overthrow this institution, or rather social order, brought about were necessarily terrific. They lasted for more than two centuries and left no interest, public or private, social or individual, earthly or heavenly, unaffected. Nation rose against nation, kingdom against kingdom; households were divided among themselves; wars and commotion, wrath and desolation, treachery and cruelty filled the states of western Europe.

Our present object is to learn how this successful revolt came about, what was its real nature, and why the results were what they were. In order to do this, it is necessary to turn to the Germany in which Luther lived and see how the nation had been prepared to sympathize with his attack on the Church.

[Sidenote: Germany of to-day.]

134. To us to-day, Germany means the German Empire, one of the three or four best organized and most powerful of the European states. It is a compact federation, somewhat like that of the United States, made up of twenty-two monarchies and three little city republics. Each member of the union manages its local affairs, but leaves all questions of national importance to be settled by the central government at Berlin. This federation is, however, of very recent date, being scarcely more than thirty years old.

[Sidenote: The 'Germanies' of the sixteenth century.]

In the time of Charles V there was no such Germany as this, but only what the French called "the Germanies"; i.e., two or three hundred states, which differed greatly from one another in size and character. One had a duke, another a count at its head, while some were ruled over by archbishops, bishops, or abbots. There were many cities, like Nuremberg, Augsburg, Frankfort, and Cologne, which were just as independent as the great duchies of Bavaria, Wrtemberg, and Saxony. Lastly there were the knights, whose possessions might consist of no more than a single strong castle with a wretched village lying at its foot. Their trifling territories must, however, be called states; for some of the knights were at that time as sovereign and independent as the elector of Brandenburg, who was one day to become the king of Prussia, and long after, the emperor of Germany.



[Sidenote: The seven electors and the other greater German princes.]

As for the emperor, he no longer had any power to control his vassals. He could boast of unlimited pretensions and a great past, but he had neither money nor soldiers. At the time of Luther's birth the poverty-stricken Frederick III might have been seen picking up a free meal at a monastery, or riding behind a slow but economical ox team. The real power in Germany lay in the hands of the more important vassals. First and foremost among these were the seven electors, so called because, since the thirteenth century, they had enjoyed the right to elect the emperor. Three of them were archbishops—kings in all but name of considerable territories on the Rhine, namely, of the electorates of Mayence, Treves, and Cologne.[263] Near them, to the south, was the region ruled over by the elector of the Palatinate; to the northeast were the territories of the electors of Brandenburg and of Saxony; the king of Bohemia made the seventh of the group. Beside these states, the dominions of other rulers scarcely less important than the electors appear on the map. Some of these territories, like Wrtemberg, Bavaria, Hesse, and Baden, are familiar to us to-day as members of the present German empire, but all of them have been much enlarged since the sixteenth century by the absorption of the little states that formerly lay within and about them.[264]

[Sidenote: The towns.]

The towns, which had grown up since the great economic revolution that had brought in commerce and the use of money in the thirteenth century, were centers of culture in the north of Europe, just as those of Italy were in the south. Nuremberg, the most beautiful of the German cities, still possesses a great part of the extraordinary buildings and works of art which it produced in the sixteenth century. Some of the towns held directly of the emperor, and were consequently independent of the particular prince within whose territory they were situated. These were called free, or imperial, cities and must be reckoned among the states of Germany.



[Sidenote: The knights.]

The knights, who ruled over the smallest of the German territories, had once formed an important military class, but the invention of gunpowder and of new methods of fighting had made their individual prowess of little avail. As their tiny realms were often too small to support them, they frequently turned to out-and-out robbery for a living. They hated the cities because the prosperous burghers were able to live in a luxurious comfort which the poor knights envied but could not imitate. They hated the princes because these were anxious to incorporate into their own territories the inconvenient little districts controlled by the knights, many of whom, like the free cities, held directly of the emperor, and were consequently practically independent.

[Sidenote: Complexity of the map of Germany.]

It would be no easy task to make a map of Germany in the time of Charles V sufficiently detailed to show all the states and scattered fragments of states. If, for example, the accompanying map were much larger and indicated all the divisions, it would be seen that the territory of the city of Ulm completely surrounded the microscopic possessions of a certain knight, the lord of Eybach, and two districts belonging to the abbot of Elchingen. On its borders lay the territories of four knights,—the lords of Rechberg, Stotzingen, Erbach, and Wiesensteig,—and of the abbots of Sflingen and Wiblingen, besides portions of Wrtemberg and outlying Austrian possessions. The main cause of this bewildering subdivision of Germany was the habit of dealing with a principality as if it were merely private property which might be divided up among several children, or disposed of piecemeal, quite regardless of the wishes of the inhabitants.

[Sidenote: No central power to maintain order.]

[Sidenote: Neighborhood war.]

It is clear that these states, little and big, all tangled up with one another, would be sure to have disputes among themselves which would have to be settled in some way. It would appear to have been absolutely necessary under the circumstances that there should be some superior court or judge to adjust differences between the many members of the empire, as well as a military or police force to carry out the will of the tribunal, should one of the parties concerned resist its decrees. But although there was an imperial court, it followed the emperor about and was therefore hard to get at. Moreover, even if a decision was obtained from it, there was no way for the aggrieved party to secure the execution of the judgment, for the emperor had no force sufficient to coerce the larger states. The natural result was a resort to self-help. Neighborhood war was permitted by law if only some courteous preliminaries were observed. For instance, a prince or town was required to give warning three days in advance before attacking another member of the empire.[265]

[Sidenote: The German diet.]

[Sidenote: Effort to better the German government.]

Toward the end of the fifteenth century the terrible disorder and uncertainty which resulted from the absence of a strong central government led to serious efforts upon the part of the diet, or national assembly, to remedy the evils. It was proposed to establish a court to settle all disputes which should arise among the rulers of the various states. This was to be held permanently in some convenient place. The empire was also to be divided into districts, or "circles," in each of which a military force was to be organized and maintained to carry out the law and the decisions of the court. Little was accomplished, however, for some years, although the diet met more frequently and regularly, and this gave an opportunity to discuss public questions. The towns began to send delegates to the diet in 1487, but the restless knights and some of the other minor nobles had no part in the deliberations and did not always feel that the decisions of the assembly were binding upon them. Of the diets which met almost every year during the Lutheran period in some one of the great German cities, we shall hear more later.

[Sidenote: Contradiction between Catholic and Protestant writers.]

135. It is natural that Protestant and Catholic writers should differ in their views of Germany at this period. Among Protestants there has always been a tendency to see the dark side of affairs, for this exalted the work of Luther and made him appear the savior of his people. On the other hand, the Catholic historians have devoted years of research to an attempt to prove that conditions were, on the whole, happy and serene and full of hope for the future before Luther and the other revolutionary leaders brought division and ruin upon the fatherland by attacking the Church.

[Sidenote: Corresponding contradictions in the conditions in Germany.]

As a matter of fact, the life and thought of Germany during the fifty years preceding the opening of the Protestant revolt present all sorts of contradictions and anomalies. The period was one of marked progress. The people were eager to learn, and they rejoiced in the recent invention of printing which brought them the new learning from Italy and hints of another world beyond the seas. Foreigners who visited Germany were astonished at the prosperity, wealth, and luxury of the rich merchants, who often spent their money in the encouragement of art and literature and in the founding of schools and libraries.

On the other hand, there was great ill feeling between the various classes—the petty princes, the townspeople, the knights, and the peasants. It was generally believed by the other classes that the wealth of the merchants could only be accounted for by deceit, usury, and sharp dealing. Never was begging more prevalent, superstition more rife, vulgarity and coarseness more apparent. Attempts to reform the government and stop neighborhood war met with little success. Moreover, the Turks were advancing steadily upon Christendom. The people were commanded by the pope to send up a prayer each day as the noon bell rang, that God might deliver them from the on-coming infidel.

Yet we need not be astonished by these contradictions, for history teaches that all periods of progress are full of them. Any newspaper will show how true this is to-day: we are, as a nation, good and bad, rich and poor, peaceful and warlike, learned and ignorant, satisfied and discontented, civilized and barbarous, all at once.

[Sidenote: Four important characteristics of the time which serve to explain the Protestant revolt.]

In considering the condition of the Church and of religion in Germany, four things are particularly important as explaining the origin and character of the Protestant revolt. First, there was an extraordinary enthusiasm for all the pomp and ceremony of the old religion, and a great confidence in pilgrimages, relics, miracles, and all those things which the Protestants were soon to discard. Secondly, there was a tendency to read the Bible and to dwell upon the attitude of the sinner toward God, rather than upon the external acts of religion. Thirdly, there was a conviction, especially among scholars, that the theologians had made religion needlessly complicated with their fine-spun logical distinctions. And lastly, there was the old and very general belief that the Italian prelates, including the pope, were always inventing new plans for getting money out of the Germans, whom they regarded as a stupid people, easily hoodwinked. These four matters we shall consider in turn.

[Sidenote: Enthusiasm for religious ceremonies and observances.]

136. Never had the many ceremonies and observances of the medival Church attracted more attention or been carried out on a more prodigious scale than during the latter part of the fifteenth, and the opening years of the sixteenth century. It seemed as if all Germany agreed to join in one last celebration of the old religion, unprecedented in magnificence, before its people parted into two irreconcilable parties. Great numbers of new churches were erected, and adorned with the richest productions of German art. Tens of thousands of pilgrims flocked to the various sacred places, and gorgeous ecclesiastical processions moved through the streets of the prosperous imperial towns.

[Sidenote: Relics.]

The princes rivaled each other in collecting the relics of saints, which were venerated as an aid to salvation. The elector of Saxony, Frederick the Wise, who was later to become Luther's protector, had accumulated no less than five thousand of these sacred objects. In a catalogue of them we find the rod of Moses, a bit of the burning bush, thread spun by the Virgin, etc. The elector of Mayence possessed even a larger collection, which included forty-two whole bodies of saints and some of the earth from a field near Damascus out of which God was supposed to have created man.

[Sidenote: The treasury of 'good works.']

It was the teaching of the Church that prayers, fasts, masses, pilgrimages, and other "good works" might be accumulated and form a treasury of spiritual goods. Those who were wanting in good deeds might, therefore, have their deficiencies offset by the inexhaustible surplus of righteous deeds which had been created by Christ and the saints.

[Sidenote: Popular reliance upon outward religious acts.]

The idea was certainly a beautiful one, that Christians should thus be able to help one another by their good works, and that the strong and faithful worshiper could aid the weak and indifferent. Yet the thoughtful teachers in the Church realized that the doctrine of the treasury of good works might be gravely misunderstood; and there was certainly a strong inclination among the people to believe that God might be propitiated by various outward acts—attendance at church ceremonies, giving of alms, the veneration of relics, the making of pilgrimages, etc. It was clear that the hope of profiting by the good works of others might lead to the neglect of the true welfare of the soul.

[Sidenote: Demand for more spiritual religion.]

137. In spite, however, of the popular confidence in outward acts and ceremonies, from which the heart was often absent, there were many signs of a general longing for deeper and more spiritual religion than that of which we have been speaking. The new art of printing was used to increase the number of religious manuals. These all emphasized the uselessness of outward acts without true contrition and sorrow for sin, and urged the sinner to rely upon the love and forgiveness of God.

[Sidenote: The Bible in German before Luther.]

All good Christians were urged, moreover, to read the Bible, of which there were a number of editions in German, besides little books in which portions of the New Testament were given. There are many indications that the Bible was commonly read before Luther's time.[266]

It was natural, therefore, that the German people should take a great interest in the new and better translation of the Scriptures which Luther prepared. Preaching had also become common—as common perhaps as it is now—before the Protestants appeared. Some towns even engaged special preachers of known eloquence to address their citizens regularly.

These facts would seem to justify the conclusion that there were many before Luther appeared who were approaching the ideas of religion which later appealed especially to the Protestants. The insistence of the Protestants upon salvation through faith alone in God, their suspicion of ceremonies and "good works," their reliance upon the Bible, and the stress they laid upon preaching,—all these were to be found in Germany and elsewhere before Luther began to preach.

[Sidenote: The German humanists.]

[Sidenote: Rudolph Agricola, 1442-1485.]

138. Among the critics of the churchmen, monks, and theologians, none were more conspicuous than the humanists. The Renaissance in Italy, which may be said to have begun with Petrarch and his library, has already been described. The Petrarch of Germany was Rudolph Agricola, who, while not absolutely the first German to dedicate himself to classical studies, was the first who by his charming personality and varied accomplishments stimulated others, as Petrarch had done, to carry on the pursuits which he himself so much enjoyed. Unlike most of the Italian humanists, however, Agricola and his followers were interested in the language of the people as well as in Latin and Greek; and proposed that the works of antiquity should be translated into German. Moreover, the German humanists were generally far more serious and devout than the Italian scholars.

[Sidenote: The humanists desire to reform the German universities.]

As the humanists increased in numbers and confidence they began to criticise the excessive attention given in the German universities[267] to logic and the scholastic theology. These studies had lost their earlier vitality[268] and had degenerated into fruitless disputations. The bad Latin which the professors used themselves and taught their students, and the preference still given to Aristotle over all other ancient writers, disgusted the humanists. They therefore undertook to prepare new and better text-books, and proposed that the study of the Greek and Roman poets and orators should be introduced into the schools and colleges. Some of the classical scholars were for doing away with theology altogether, as a vain, monkish study which only obscured the great truths of religion. The old-fashioned professors, on their part, naturally denounced the new learning, which they declared made pagans of those who became enamored of it. Sometimes the humanists were permitted to teach their favorite subjects in the universities, but as time went on it became clear that the old and the new teachers could not work amicably side by side.

[Sidenote: The humanist satire on the monks and theologians, the so-called Letters of Obscure Men.]

At last, a little before Luther's public appearance, a conflict occurred between the "poets," as the humanists were fond of calling themselves, and the "barbarians," as they called the theologians and monkish writers. An eminent Hebrew scholar, Reuchlin, had become involved in a bitter controversy with the Dominican professors of the University of Cologne. His cause was championed by the humanists, who prepared an extraordinary satire upon their opponents. They wrote a series of letters, which were addressed to one of the Cologne professors and purported to be from his former students and admirers. In these letters the writers take pains to exhibit the most shocking ignorance and stupidity. They narrate their scandalous doings with the ostensible purpose of obtaining advice as to the best way to get out of their scrapes. They vituperate the humanists in comically bad Latin, which is perhaps the best part of the joke.[269] In this way those who later opposed Luther and his reforms were held up to ridicule in these letters and their opposition to progress seemed clearly made out.

[Sidenote: Erasmus of Rotterdam, 1467?-1536.]

139. The acknowledged prince of the humanists was Erasmus. No other man of letters, unless it be Voltaire, has ever enjoyed such a European reputation during his lifetime. He was venerated by scholars far and wide, even in Spain and Italy. Although he was born in Rotterdam he was not a Dutchman, but a citizen of the world; he is, in fact, claimed by England, France, and Germany. He lived in each of these countries for a considerable period and in each he left his mark on the thought of the time. Erasmus, like most of the northern humanists, was deeply interested in religious reform, and he aspired to give the world a higher conception of religion and the Church than that which generally prevailed. He clearly perceived, as did all the other intelligent people of the time, the vices of the prelates, priests, and especially of the monks. Against the latter he had a personal grudge, for he had been forced into a monastery when he was a boy, and always looked back to the life there with disgust. Erasmus reached the height of his fame just before the public appearance of Luther; consequently his writings afford an admirable means of determining how he and his innumerable admirers felt about the Church and the clergy before the opening of the great revolt.

[Sidenote: Erasmus' edition of the New Testament.]

Erasmus spent some time in England between the years 1498 and 1506, and made friends of the scholars there. He was especially fond of Sir Thomas More, who wrote the famous Utopia, and of a young man, John Colet, who was lecturing at Oxford upon the Epistles of St. Paul.[270] Colet's enthusiasm for Paul appears to have led Erasmus to direct his vast knowledge of the ancient languages to the explanation of the New Testament. This was only known in the common Latin version (the Vulgate), into which many mistakes and misapprehensions had crept. Erasmus felt that the first thing to do, in order to promote higher ideas of Christianity, was to purify the sources of the faith by preparing a correct edition of the New Testament. Accordingly, in 1516, he published the original Greek text with a new Latin translation and explanations which mercilessly exposed the mistakes of the great body of theologians.



Erasmus would have had the Bible in the hands of every one. In the introduction to his edition of the New Testament he says that women should read the Gospels and the Epistles of Paul as well as the men. The peasant in the field, the artisan in his shop, and the traveler on the highroad should while away the time with passages from the Bible.

[Sidenote: Erasmus' idea of true religion.]

Erasmus believed that the two arch enemies of true religion were (1) paganism,—into which many of the more enthusiastic Italian humanists fell in their admiration for the ancient literatures,—and (2) the popular confidence in mere outward acts and ceremonies, like visiting the graves of saints, the mechanical repetition of prayers, and so forth. He claimed that the Church had become careless and had permitted the simple teachings of Christ to be buried under myriads of dogmas introduced by the theologians. "The essence of our religion," he says, "is peace and harmony. These can only exist where there are few dogmas and each individual is left to form his own opinion upon many matters."

[Sidenote: In his Praise of Folly Erasmus attacks the evils in the Church.]

In his celebrated Praise of Folly,[271] Erasmus has much to say of the weaknesses of the monks and theologians, and of the foolish people who thought that religion consisted simply in pilgrimages, the worship of relics, and the procuring of indulgences. Scarcely one of the abuses which Luther later attacked escaped Erasmus' satirical pen. The book is a mixture of the lightest humor and the bitterest earnestness. As one turns its pages one is sometimes tempted to think Luther half right when he declared Erasmus "a regular jester who makes sport of everything, even of religion and Christ himself." Yet there was in this humorist a deep seriousness that cannot be ignored. Erasmus was really directing his extraordinary industry, knowledge, and insight, not toward a revival of classical literature, but to a renaissance of Christianity. He believed, however, that revolt from the pope and the Church would produce a great disturbance and result in more harm than good. He preferred to trust in the slower but surer effects of enlightenment and knowledge. Popular superstitions and any undue regard for the outward forms of religion would, he argued, be outgrown and quietly disappear as mankind became more cultivated.

To Erasmus and his many sympathizers, culture, promoted especially by classical studies, should be the chief agency in religious reform. Nevertheless, just as Erasmus thought that his dreams of a peaceful reform were to be realized, as he saw the friends and patrons of literature,—Maximilian, Henry VIII, Francis I,—on the thrones of Europe, and a humanist pope, Leo X, at the head of the Church, a very different revolution from that which he had planned, had begun and was to embitter his declining years.

[Sidenote: Sources of discontent in Germany with the policy of the papal court.]

140. The grudge of Germany against the papal court never found a more eloquent expression than in the verses of its greatest minnesinger, Walther von der Vogelweide. Three hundred years before Luther's time he declared that the pope was making merry over the stupid Germans. "All their goods will be mine, their silver is flowing into my far-away chest; their priests are living on poultry and wine and leaving the silly layman to fast." Similar sentiments may be found in the German writers of all the following generations. Every one of the sources of discontent with the financial administration of the Church which the councils had tried to correct[272] was particularly apparent in Germany. The great German prelates, like the archbishops of Mayence, Treves, Cologne, and Salzburg, were each required to contribute no less than ten thousand gold guldens to the papal treasury upon having their election duly confirmed by the pope; and many thousands more were expected from them when they received the pallium.[273] The pope enjoyed the right to fill many important benefices in Germany, and frequently appointed Italians, who drew the revenue without dreaming of performing any of the duties attached to the office. A single person frequently held several church offices. For example, early in the sixteenth century, the Archbishop of Mayence was at the same time Archbishop of Magdeburg and Bishop of Halberstadt. In some instances a single person had accumulated over a score of benefices.

It is impossible to exaggerate the impression of deep and widespread discontent with the condition of the Church which one meets in the writings of the early sixteenth century. The whole German people, from the rulers down to the humblest tiller of the fields, felt themselves unjustly used. The clergy were denounced as both immoral and inefficient. One devout writer exclaims that young men are considered quite good enough to be priests to whom one would not intrust the care of a cow. While the begging friars—the Franciscans, Dominicans, and Augustinians[274]—were scorned by many, they, rather than the secular clergy, appear to have carried on the real religious work. It was an Augustinian monk, we shall find, who preached the new gospel of justification by faith.

Very few indeed thought of withdrawing from the Church or of attempting to destroy the power of the pope. All that most of the Germans wished was that the money which, on one pretense or another, flowed toward Rome should be kept at home, and that the clergy should be upright, earnest men who should conscientiously perform their religious duties. One patriotic writer, however, Ulrich von Hutten, was preaching something very like revolution at the same time that Luther began his attack on the pope.

[Sidenote: Ulrich von Hutten, 1488-1523.]

Hutten was the son of a poor knight, but early tired of the monotonous life of the castle and determined to seek the universities and acquaint himself with the ancient literatures, of which so much was being said. In order to carry on his studies he visited Italy and there formed a most unfavorable impression of the papal court and of the Italian churchmen, whom he believed to be oppressing his beloved fatherland. When the Letters of Obscure Men appeared, he was so delighted with them that he prepared a supplementary series in which he freely satirized the theologians. Soon he began to write in German as well as in Latin, in order the more readily to reach the ears of the people. In one of his pamphlets attacking the popes he explains that he has himself seen how Leo X spends the money which the Germans send him. A part goes to his relatives, a part to maintain the luxurious papal court, and a part to worthless companions and attendants, whose lives would shock any honest Christian.

In Germany, of all the countries of Europe, conditions were such that Luther's appearance wrought like an electric shock throughout the nation, leaving no class unaffected. Throughout the land there was discontent and a yearning for betterment. Very various, to be sure, were the particular longings of the prince and the scholar, of knight, burgher, and peasant; but almost all were ready to consider, at least, the teachings of one who presented to them a new conception of salvation which made the old Church superfluous.

General Reading.—The most complete account of the conditions in Germany before Luther is to be found in JANSSEN, History of the German People (Herder, Vols. I and II, $6.25). Cambridge Modern History (The Macmillan Company, $3.75 per vol.), Vol. I, Chapters IX and XIX; CREIGHTON, History of the Papacy (see Vol. I, p. 320), Vol. VI, Chapters I and II; and BEARD, Martin Luther (P. Green, London, $1.60), Chapters I and III, are excellent treatments of the subject. For Erasmus, see EMERTON'Scharming Desiderius Erasmus (G.P. Putnam's Sons, $1.50), which gives a considerable number of his letters.



CHAPTER XXV

MARTIN LUTHER AND HIS REVOLT AGAINST THE CHURCH

[Sidenote: Luther's birth and education.]

141. Martin Luther was of peasant origin. His father was very poor, and was trying his fortune as a miner near the Harz Mountains when his eldest son, Martin, was born in 1483. Martin sometimes spoke, in later life, of the poverty and superstition which surrounded him in his childhood; of how his mother carried on her back the wood for the household and told him stories of a witch who had made away with the village priest. The boy was sent early to school, for his father was determined that his eldest son should be a lawyer. At eighteen, Martin entered the greatest of the north-German universities, at Erfurt, where he spent four years. There he became acquainted with some of the young humanists, for example, the one who is supposed to have written a great part of the Letters of Obscure Men. He was interested in the various classical writers, but devoted the usual attention to logic and Aristotle.

[Sidenote: Luther decides to become a monk.]

Suddenly, when he had completed his college course and was ready to enter the law school, he called his friends together for one last hour of pleasure, and the next morning he led them to the gate of an Augustinian monastery, where he bade them farewell and turning his back on the world became a mendicant friar. That day, July 17, 1505, when the young master of arts, regardless of his father's anger and disappointment, sought salvation within the walls of a monastery, was the beginning of a religious experiment which had momentous consequences for the world.

[Sidenote: Luther's disappointment in the monastery.]

Luther later declared that "if ever a monk got to heaven through monkery," he was assuredly among those who merited salvation. So great was his ardor, so nervously anxious was he to save his soul by the commonly recognized means of fasts, vigils, prolonged prayers, and a constant disregard of the usual rules of health, that he soon could no longer sleep. He fell into despondency, and finally into despair. The ordinary observance of the rules of the monastery, which satisfied most of the monks, failed to give him peace. He felt that even if he outwardly did right he could never purify all his thoughts and desires. His experience led him to conclude that neither the Church nor the monastery provided any device which enabled him to keep his affections always centered on what he knew to be holy and right. Therefore they seemed to him to fail and to leave him, at heart, a hopelessly corrupt sinner, justly under God's condemnation.

[Sidenote: Justification by faith, not through 'good works.']

Gradually a new view of Christianity came to him. The head of the monastery bade him trust in God's goodness and mercy and not to rely upon his own "good works." He began to study the writings of St. Paul and of Augustine, and from them was led to conclude that man was incapable, in the sight of God, of any good works whatsoever, and could only be saved by faith in God's promises. This gave him much comfort, but it took him years to clarify his ideas and to reach the conclusion that the existing Church was opposed to the idea of justification by faith, because it fostered what seemed to him a delusive confidence in "good works." He was thirty-seven years old before he finally became convinced that it was his duty to become the leader in the destruction of the old order.

[Sidenote: Luther becomes a teacher in the University of Wittenberg, 1508.]

It was no new thing for a young monk, suddenly cut off from the sunshine and hoping for speedy spiritual peace, to suffer disappointment and fall into gloomy forebodings, as did Brother Martin. He, however, having fought the battle through to victory, was soon placed in a position to bring comfort to others similarly afflicted with doubts as to their power to please God. In 1508 he was called to the new university which Frederick the Wise, elector of Saxony, had established at Wittenberg. We know little of his early years as a professor, but he soon began to lecture on the epistles of Paul and to teach his students the doctrine of justification by faith.



[Sidenote: Luther's visit to Rome.]

Luther had as yet no idea of attacking the Church. When, about 1511, he journeyed to Rome on business of his order, he devoutly visited all the holy places for the good of his soul, and was almost tempted to wish that his father and mother were dead, so that he might free them from purgatory by his pious observances. Yet he was shocked by the impiety of the Italian churchmen and the scandalous stories about popes Alexander VI and Julius II, the latter of whom was just then engaged in his warlike expeditions into northern Italy. The evidences of immorality on the part of the popes may well have made it easier for him later to reach the conclusion that the head of the Church was the chief enemy of religion.

[Sidenote: Luther teaches a new kind of theology.]

Before long he began to encourage his students to defend his favorite beliefs in the debates in which they took part. For instance, one of the candidates for a degree, under Luther's inspiration, attacked the old theology against which the humanists had been fighting. "It is an error," he says, "to declare that no one can become a theologian without Aristotle; on the contrary, no one can become a theologian except it be without him." Luther desired the students to rely upon the Bible, Paul's writings above all, and upon the church fathers, especially Augustine.[275]

[Sidenote: Luther's theses on indulgences.]

142. In October, 1517, Tetzel, a Dominican monk, began granting indulgences in the neighborhood of Wittenberg, and making claims for them which appeared to Luther wholly irreconcilable with the deepest truths of Christianity as he understood and taught them. He therefore, in accordance with the custom of the time, wrote out a series of ninety-five statements in regard to indulgences. These he posted on the church door and invited any one interested in the matter to enter into a discussion with him on the subject, which he believed was very ill understood. In posting these theses, as they were called, Luther did not intend to attack the Church, and had no expectation of creating a sensation. The theses were in Latin and addressed only to scholars. It turned out, however, that every one, high and low, learned and unlearned, was ready to discuss the perplexing theme of the nature of indulgences. The theses were promptly translated into German, printed, and scattered throughout the land.

[Sidenote: The nature of indulgences.]

In order to understand the indulgence, it must be remembered that the priest had the right to forgive the sin of the truly contrite sinner who had duly confessed his evil deeds.[276] Absolution freed the sinner from the deadly guilt which would otherwise have dragged him down to hell, but it did not free him from the penalties which God, or his representative, the priest, might choose to impose upon him. Serious penances had earlier been imposed by the Church for wrongdoing, but in Luther's time the sinner who had been absolved was chiefly afraid of the sufferings reserved for him in purgatory. It was there that his soul would be purified by suffering and prepared for heaven. The indulgence was a pardon, usually granted by the pope, through which the contrite sinner escaped a part, or all, of the punishment which remained even after he had been absolved. The pardon did not therefore forgive the guilt of the sinner, for that had necessarily to be removed before the indulgence was granted; it only removed or mitigated the penalties which even the forgiven sinner would, without the indulgence, have expected to undergo in purgatory.[277]

The first indulgences for the dead had been granted shortly before the time of Luther's birth. By securing one of these, the relatives or friends of those in purgatory might reduce the period of torment which the sufferers had to undergo before they could be admitted to heaven. Those who were in purgatory had, of course, been duly absolved of the guilt of their sins before their death; otherwise their souls would have been lost and the indulgence could not advantage them in any way.

[Sidenote: Leo X issues indulgences in connection with the rebuilding of St. Peter's.]

With a view of obtaining funds from the Germans to continue the reconstruction of the great church of St. Peter,[278] Leo X had arranged for the extensive grant of indulgences, both for the living and for the dead. The contribution for them varied greatly; the rich were required to pay a considerable sum, while the very poor were to receive these pardons gratis. The representatives of the pope were naturally anxious to collect all the money possible, and did their best to induce every one to secure an indulgence, either for himself or for his deceased friends in purgatory. In their zeal they made many reckless claims for the indulgences, to which no thoughtful churchman or even layman could listen without misgivings.

[Sidenote: Contents of Luther's theses.]

Luther was not the first to criticise the current notions of indulgences, but his theses, owing to the vigor of their language and the existing irritation of the Germans against the administration of the Church, first brought the subject into prominence. He declared that the indulgence was very unimportant and that the poor man would better spend his money for the needs of his household. The truly repentant, he argued, do not flee punishment, but bear it willingly in sign of their sorrow. Faith in God, not the procuring of pardons, brings forgiveness, and every Christian who feels true contrition for his sins will receive full remission of the punishment as well as of the guilt. Could the pope know how his agents misled the people, he would rather have St. Peter's burn to ashes than build it up with money gained under false pretenses. Then, Luther adds, there is danger that the common man will ask awkward questions. For example, "If the pope releases souls from purgatory for money, why not for charity's sake?" or, "Since the pope is rich as Croesus, why does he not build St. Peter's with his own money, instead of taking that of the poor man?"[279]

[Sidenote: Luther summoned to Rome.]

143. The theses were soon forwarded to Rome, and a few months after they were posted Luther received a summons to appear at the papal court to answer for his heretical assertions. Luther still respected the pope as the head of the Church, but he had no wish to risk his safety by going to Rome. As Leo X was anxious not to offend so important a person as the elector of Saxony, who intervened for Luther, he did not press the matter, and agreed that Luther should confer with the papal emissaries in Germany.

[Sidenote: The discussion continues.]

Brother Martin was induced to keep silence for a time, but was aroused again by a great debate arranged at Leipsic in the summer of 1519. Here Eck, a German theologian noted for his devotion to the pope and his great skill in debate, challenged one of Luther's colleagues, Carlstadt, to discuss publicly some of the matters in which Luther himself was especially interested. Luther therefore asked to be permitted to take part.

[Sidenote: The debate at Leipsic, 1519.]

The discussion turned upon the powers of the pope. Luther, who had been reading church history, declared that the pope had not enjoyed his supremacy for more than four hundred years. This statement was inaccurate, but, nevertheless, he had hit upon an argument against the customs of the Roman Catholic Church which has ever since been constantly urged by Protestants. They assert that the medival Church and the papacy developed slowly, and that the apostles knew nothing of masses, indulgences, purgatory, and the headship of the Bishop of Rome.

[Sidenote: Eck forces Luther to admit that the Council of Constance was wrong and Huss right.]

Eck promptly pointed out that Luther's views resembled those of Wycliffe and Huss, which had been condemned by the Council of Constance. Luther was forced reluctantly to admit that the council had condemned some thoroughly Christian teachings. This was a decisive admission. Like other Germans, Luther had been accustomed to abhor Huss and the Bohemians, and to regard with pride the great general Council of Constance, which had been held in Germany and under the auspices of its emperor. He now admitted that even a general council could err, and was soon convinced "that we are all Hussites, without knowing it; yes, Paul and St. Augustine were good Hussites." Luther's public encounter with a disputant of European reputation, and the startling admissions which he was compelled to make, first made him realize that he might become the leader in an attack on the Church. He began to see that a great change and upheaval was unavoidable.

[Sidenote: Luther and the humanists natural allies.]

144. As Luther became a confessed revolutionist he began to find friends among other revolutionists and reformers. He had some ardent admirers even before the disputation at Leipsic, especially at Wittenberg and in the great city of Nuremberg. To the humanists, Luther seemed a natural ally. They might not understand his religious beliefs, but they clearly saw that he was beginning to attack a class of people that they disliked, particularly the old-fashioned theologians who venerated Aristotle. He felt, moreover, as they did in regard to the many vices in the Church, and was becoming suspicious of the begging monks, although he was himself at the head of the Wittenberg monastery. So those who had defended Reuchlin were now ready to support Luther, to whom they wrote encouraging letters. Luther's works were published by Erasmus' printer at Basel, and sent to Italy, France, England, and Spain.

[Sidenote: Erasmus' attitude toward the Lutheran movement.]

But Erasmus, the mighty sovereign of the men of letters, refused to take sides in the controversy. He asserted that he had not read more than a dozen pages of Luther's writings. Although he admitted that "the monarchy of the Roman high priest was, in its existing condition, the pest of Christendom," he believed that a direct attack upon it would do no good. Luther, he urged, would better be discreet and trust that mankind would become more intelligent and outgrow their false ideas.

[Sidenote: Contrast between Luther and Erasmus.]

To Erasmus, man was capable of progress; cultivate him and extend his knowledge, and he would grow better and better. He was a free agent, with, on the whole, upright tendencies. To Luther, on the other hand, man was utterly corrupt, and incapable of a single righteous wish or deed. His will was enslaved to evil, and his only hope lay in the recognition of his absolute inability to better himself, and in a humble reliance upon God's mercy. By faith only, not by conduct, could he be saved. Erasmus was willing to wait until every one agreed that the Church should be reformed. Luther had no patience with an institution which seemed to him to be leading souls to destruction by inducing men to rely upon their good works. Both men realized that they could not agree. For a time they expressed respect for each other, but at last they became involved in a bitter controversy in which they gave up all pretense to friendship. Erasmus declared that Luther, by scorning good works and declaring that no one could do right, had made his followers indifferent to their conduct, and that those who accepted Luther's teachings straightway became pert, rude fellows, who would not take off their hats to him on the street.

[Sidenote: Ulrich von Hutten espouses Luther's cause.]

Ulrich von Hutten, on the other hand, warmly espoused Luther's cause as that of a German patriot and an opponent of Roman tyranny, intrigue, and oppression. "Let us defend our freedom," he wrote, "and liberate the long enslaved fatherland. We have God on our side, and if God be with us, who can be against us?" Hutten enlisted the interest of some of the other knights, who offered to defend Luther should the churchmen attack him, and invited him to take refuge in their castles.

[Sidenote: Luther begins to use violent language.]

145. Thus encouraged, Luther, who gave way at times to his naturally violent disposition, became threatening, and suggested that the civil power should punish the churchmen and force them to reform their conduct. "We punish thieves with the gallows, bandits with the sword, heretics with fire; why should we not, with far greater propriety, attack with every kind of weapon these very masters of perdition, the cardinals, popes, and the whole mob in the Roman Sodom?" "The die is cast," he writes to a friend; "I despise Rome's wrath as I do her favor; I will have no reconciliation or intercourse with her in all time to come. Let her condemn and burn my writings. I will, if fire can be found, publicly condemn and burn the whole papal law."

[Sidenote: Luther's and Hutten's appeal to the German people.]

[Sidenote: Luther's Address to the German Nobility.]

Hutten and Luther vied with one another during the year 1520 in attacking the pope and his representatives. They both possessed a fine command of the German language, and they were fired by a common hatred of Rome. Hutten had little or none of Luther's religious fervor, but he could not find colors too dark in which to picture to his countrymen the greed of the papal curia, which he described as a vast den, to which everything was dragged which could be filched from the Germans. Of Luther's popular pamphlets, the first really famous one was his Address to the German Nobility, in which he calls upon the rulers of Germany, especially the knights, to reform the abuses themselves, since he believed that it was vain to wait for the Church to do so.

He explains that there are three walls behind which the papacy had been wont to take refuge when any one proposed to remedy its abuses. There was, first, the claim that the clergy formed a separate class, superior even to the civil rulers, who might not punish a churchman, no matter how bad he was. Secondly, the pope claimed to be superior to a council, so that even the representatives of the Church might not correct him. And, lastly, the pope assumed the sole right to interpret the meaning of the Scriptures; consequently he could not be refuted by arguments from the Bible. Thus the pope had stolen the three rods with which he might have been punished. Luther claimed to cast down these defenses by denying, to begin with, that there was anything especially sacred about a clergyman except the duties which he had been designated to perform. If he did not attend to his work he might be deprived of his office at any moment, just as one would turn off an incompetent tailor or farmer, and in that case he became a simple layman again. Luther claimed that it was the right and duty of the civil government to punish a churchman who does wrong just as if he were the humblest layman. When this first wall was destroyed the others would fall easily enough, for the dominant position of the clergy was the very corner stone of the medival Church.[280]

[Sidenote: Luther advocates social as well as religious reforms.]

The pamphlet closes with a long list of evils which must be done away with before Germany can become prosperous. Luther saw that his view of religion really implied a social revolution. He advocated reducing the monasteries to a tenth of their number and permitting those who were disappointed in the good they got from living in them freely to leave. He would not have them prisons, but hospitals and refuges for the soul-sick. He points out the evils of pilgrimages and of the numerous church holidays, which interfere with daily work. The clergy, he urged, should be permitted to marry and have families like other citizens. The universities should be reformed, and "the accursed heathen, Aristotle," should be cast out from them.

It should be noted that Luther appeals to the authorities not in the name of religion chiefly, but in that of public order and prosperity. He says that the money of the Germans flies feather-light over the Alps to Italy, but it suddenly becomes like lead when there is a question of its coming back. He showed himself a master of vigorous language, and his denunciations of the clergy and the Church resounded like a trumpet call in the ears of his countrymen.

[Sidenote: Luther attacks the sacramental system in his Babylonian Captivity of the Church, 1520.]

Luther had said little of the doctrines of the Church in his Address to the German Nobility, but within three or four months he issued a second work, in which he sought to overthrow the whole system of the sacraments, as it had been taught by Peter Lombard and the theologians of the thirteenth century.[281] Four of the seven sacraments—ordination, marriage, confirmation, and extreme unction—he rejected altogether. He completely revised the conception of the Mass, or the Lord's Supper. He stripped the priest of his singular powers by denying that he performed the miracle of transubstantiation or offered a sacrifice for the living and the dead when he officiated at the Lord's Supper. The priest was, in his eyes, only a minister, in the Protestant sense of the word, one of whose chief functions was preaching.

[Sidenote: Luther excommunicated.]

146. Luther had long expected to be excommunicated. But it was not until late in 1520 that his adversary, Eck, arrived in Germany with a papal bull condemning many of Luther's assertions as heretical and giving him sixty days in which to recant. Should he fail to come to himself within that time, he and all who adhered to or favored him were to be excommunicated, and any place which harbored him should fall under the interdict. Now, since the highest power in Christendom had pronounced Luther a heretic, he should unhesitatingly have been delivered up by the German authorities. But no one thought of arresting him.

[Sidenote: The German authorities reluctant to publish the bull against Luther.]

The bull irritated the German princes; whether they liked Luther or not, they decidedly disliked to have the pope issuing commands to them. Then it appeared to them very unfair that Luther's personal enemy should have been intrusted with the publication of the bull. Even the princes and universities that were most friendly to the pope published the bull with great reluctance. The students of Erfurt and Leipsic pursued Eck with pointed allusions to Pharisees and devil's emissaries. In many cases the bull was ignored altogether. Luther's own sovereign, the elector of Saxony, while no convert to the new views, was anxious that Luther's case should be fairly considered, and continued to protect him. One mighty prince, however, the young emperor Charles V, promptly and willingly published the bull; not, however, as emperor, but as ruler of the Austrian dominions and of the Netherlands. Luther's works were burned at Louvain, Mayence, and Cologne, the strongholds of the old theology.

[Sidenote: Luther defies pope and emperor.]

"Hard it is," Luther exclaimed, "to be forced to contradict all the prelates and princes, but there is no other way to escape hell and God's anger." Never had one man so unreservedly declared war upon pretty much the whole consecrated order of things. As one power arrayed against an equal, the Wittenberg professor opposed himself to pope and emperor, giving back curse for curse and fagot for fagot. His students were summoned to witness "the pious, religious spectacle," when he cast Leo's bull on the fire, along with the canon law and one of the books of scholastic theology which he most disliked.

[Sidenote: Hutten's plan for an immediate destruction of the old Church.]

Never was the temptation so great for Luther to encourage a violent demolition of the old structure of the Church as at this time. Hutten was bent upon the speedy carrying out of the revolution which both he and Luther were forwarding by their powerful writings. Hutten had taken refuge in the castle of the leader of the German knights, Franz von Sickingen, who he believed would be an admirable military commander in the coming contest for truth and liberty. Hutten frankly proposed to the young emperor that the papacy should be abolished, that the property of the Church should be confiscated, and that ninety-nine out of a hundred of the clergy should be dispensed with as superfluous. In this way Germany would be freed, he argued, from the control of the "parsons" and from their corruption. From the vast proceeds of the confiscation the state might be strengthened and an army of knights might be maintained for the defense of the empire.

[Sidenote: Views of the papal representative on public opinion in Germany.]

Public opinion appeared ready for a revolution. "I am pretty familiar with the history of this German nation," Leo's representative, Aleander, remarked; "I know their past heresies, councils, and schisms, but never were affairs so serious before. Compared with present conditions, the struggle between Henry IV and Gregory VII was as violets and roses.... These mad dogs are now well equipped with knowledge and arms; they boast that they are no longer ignorant brutes like their predecessors; they claim that Italy has lost the monopoly of the sciences and that the Tiber now flows into the Rhine." "Nine-tenths of the Germans," he calculated, "are shouting 'Luther,' and the other tenth goes so far at least as 'Death to the Roman curia.'"

[Sidenote: Luther's attitude toward a violent realization of his reforms.]

Luther was too frequently reckless and violent in his writings. He often said that bloodshed could not be avoided when it should please God to visit his judgments upon the stiff-necked and perverse generation of "Romanists," as the Germans contemptuously called the supporters of the pope. Yet he always discouraged precipitate reform. He was reluctant to make changes, except in belief. He held that so long as an institution did not mislead, it did no harm. He was, in short, no fanatic at heart. The pope had established himself without force, so would he be crushed by God's word without force. This, we may assume, was Luther's most profound conviction, even in the first period of enthusiasm and confidence. He perhaps never fully realized how different Hutten's ideas were from his own, for the poet knight died while still a young man. And as for Franz von Sickingen, Luther soon learned to execrate the ruthless, worldly soldier who brought discredit by his violence upon the cause of reform.

[Sidenote: Charles V's want of sympathy with the German reformers.]

147. Among the enemies of the German reformers none was more important than the young emperor. It was toward the end of the year 1520 that Charles came to Germany for the first time. After being crowned king of the Romans at Aix-la-Chapelle, he assumed, with the pope's consent, the title of emperor elect, as his grandfather Maximilian had done. He then moved on to the town of Worms, where he was to hold his first diet and face the German situation.

Although scarcely more than a boy in years, Charles had already begun to take life very seriously. He had decided that Spain, not Germany, was to be the bulwark and citadel of all his realms. Like the more enlightened of his Spanish subjects, he realized the need of reforming the Church, but he had no sympathy whatever with any change of doctrine. He proposed to live and die a devout Catholic of the old type, such as his orthodox ancestors had been. He felt, moreover, that he must maintain the same religion in all parts of his heterogeneous dominions. If he should permit the Germans to declare their independence of the Church, the next step would be for them to claim that they had a right to regulate their government regardless of their emperor.

[Sidenote: Luther summoned to the diet at Worms.]

Upon arriving at Worms the case of Luther was at once forced upon Charles' attention by the assiduous papal representative, Aleander, who was indefatigable in urging him to outlaw the heretic without further delay. While Charles seemed convinced of Luther's guilt, he could not proceed against him without serious danger. The monk had become a national hero and had the support of the powerful elector of Saxony. Other princes, who had ordinarily no wish to protect a heretic, felt that Luther's denunciation of the evils in the Church and of the actions of the pope was very gratifying. After much discussion it was finally arranged, to the great disgust of the zealous Aleander, that Luther should be summoned to Worms and be given an opportunity to face the German nation and the emperor, and to declare plainly whether he was the author of the heretical books ascribed to him, and whether he still adhered to the doctrines which the pope had declared wrong.

The emperor accordingly wrote the "honorable and respected" Luther a very polite letter, ordering him to appear at Worms and granting him a safe-conduct thither. Luther said, on receiving the summons, that if he was going to Worms merely to retract, he might better stay in Wittenberg, where he could, if he would, abjure his errors quite as well as on the Rhine. If, on the other hand, the emperor wished him to come to Worms in order that he might be put to death, he was quite ready to go, "for, with Christ's help, I will not flee and leave the Word in the lurch. My revocation will be in this wise: 'Earlier I said that the pope was God's vicar; now I revoke and say, the pope is Christ's enemy and an envoy of the devil.'"

148. Luther accordingly set out for Worms accompanied by the imperial herald. He enjoyed a triumphal progress through the various places on his way and preached repeatedly, in spite of the fact that he was an excommunicated heretic. He found the diet in a great state of commotion. The papal representative was the object of daily insults, and Hutten and Sickingen talked of scattering Luther's enemies by a sally from the neighboring castle of Ebernburg.

[Sidenote: Luther before the diet.]

It was not proposed to give Luther an opportunity to defend his beliefs before the diet. When he appeared before "emperor and empire," he was simply asked if a pile of his Latin and German works were really his, and, if so, whether he revoked what he had said in them. To the first question the monk replied in a low voice that he had written these and more. As to the second question, which involved the welfare of the soul and the Word of God, he asked that he might have a little while to consider.

The following day, in a Latin address which he repeated in German, he admitted that he had been overviolent in his attacks upon his opponents; but he said that no one could deny that, through the popes' decrees, the consciences of faithful Christians had been miserably ensnared and tormented, and their goods and possessions, especially in Germany, devoured. Should he recant those things which he had said against the pope's conduct he would only strengthen the papal tyranny and give an opportunity for new usurpations. If, however, adequate arguments against his position could be found in the Scriptures, he would gladly and willingly recant. He could not, however, accept the decision either of pope or of council, since both, he believed, had made mistakes and contradicted themselves. "I must," he concluded, "allow my conscience to be controlled by God's Word. Recant I can not and will not, for it is hazardous and dishonorable to act against one's conscience."

[Sidenote: The emperor forced by the law to outlaw Luther.]

There was now nothing for the emperor to do but to outlaw Luther, who had denied the binding character of the commands of the head of the Church and of the highest Christian tribunal, a general council. His argument that the Scriptures sustained him in his revolt could not be considered by the diet.[282]

[Sidenote: The Edict of Worms, 1521.]

Aleander was accordingly assigned the agreeable duty of drafting the famous Edict of Worms. This document declared Luther an outlaw on the following grounds: that he disturbed the recognized number and celebration of the sacraments, impeached the regulations in regard to marriage, scorned and vilified the pope, despised the priesthood and stirred up the laity to dip their hands in the blood of the clergy, denied free will, taught licentiousness, despised authority, advocated a brutish existence, and was a menace to Church and State alike. Every one was forbidden to give the heretic food, drink, or shelter, and required to seize him and deliver him to the emperor.

Moreover, the decree provides that "no one shall dare to buy, sell, read, preserve, copy, print, or cause to be copied or printed any books of the aforesaid Martin Luther, condemned by our holy father the pope, as aforesaid, or any other writings in German or Latin hitherto composed by him, since they are foul, noxious, suspected, and published by a notorious and stiff-necked heretic. Neither shall any one dare to affirm his opinions, or proclaim, defend, or advance them in any other way that human ingenuity can invent,—notwithstanding that he may have put some good into his writings in order to deceive the simple man."[283]

For the last time the empire had recognized its obligation to carry out the decrees of the Bishop of Rome. "I am becoming ashamed of my fatherland," Hutten cried. So general was the disapproval of the edict that few were willing to pay any attention to it. Charles immediately left Germany, and for nearly ten years was occupied outside it with the government of Spain and a succession of wars.

General Reading.—BEARD, Martin Luther (see above, p. 386), is probably the best account in English of Luther before his retirement to the Wartburg; KSTLIN, Life of Luther (Scribner's Sons, $2.50), is excellent. An account of Luther and Hutten by a learned Roman Catholic writer may be found in JANSSEN, History of the German People (see above, p. 386), Vol. III; CREIGHTON, History of the Papacy (see above, p. 320), Vol. VI; Chapters III and V are devoted to Luther and the diet of Worms.



CHAPTER XXVI

COURSE OF THE PROTESTANT REVOLT IN GERMANY

1521-1555

[Sidenote: Luther begins a new translation of the Bible in the Wartburg.]

149. As Luther neared Eisenach upon his way home from Worms he was seized by a band of men and conducted to the Wartburg, a castle belonging to the elector of Saxony. Here he was concealed until any danger from the action of the emperor or diet should pass by. His chief occupation during several months of hiding was to begin a new translation of the Bible into German. He had finished the New Testament before he left the Wartburg in March, 1522.