Chronicles of the Schonberg-Cotta Family Part 32

We have lost some since then,--if I ought to call Eva and Fritz lost.

But how my life has been enriched! My husband, our little Gretchen; and then so much outward prosperity! All that pressure of poverty and daily care entirely gone, and so much wherewith to help others! And yet, am I so entirely free from care as I ought to be? Am I not even at times more burdened with it?

When first I married, and had Gottfried on whom to unburden every perplexity, and riches which seemed to me inexhaustible, instead of poverty, I thought I should never know care again.

But is it so? Have not the very things themselves, in their possession, become cares? When I hear of these dreadful wars with the Turks, and of the insurrections and disquiets in various parts, and look round on our pleasant home, and gardens, and fields, I think how terrible it would be again to be plunged into poverty, or that Gretchen ever should be; so that riches themselves become cares. It makes me think of what a good man once told me: that the word in the Bible which is translated "rich,"

in speaking of Abraham, in other places is translated "heavy;" so that instead of reading, "Abraham left Egypt _rich_ in cattle and silver and gold," we might read "_heavy_ in cattle, silver, and gold."

Yes, we are on a pilgrimage to the Holy City; we are in flight from an evil world; and too often riches are weights which hinder our progress.

I find it good, therefore, to be here in the small, humble house we have taken refuge in--Gottfried, Gretchen, and I. The servants are dispersed elsewhere; and it lightens my heart to feel how well we can do without luxuries which were beginning to seem like necessaries. Dr. Luther's words come to my mind; "The covetous enjoy what they have as little as what they have not. They cannot even rejoice in the sunshine. They think not what a n.o.ble gift the light is--what an inexpressibly great treasure the sun is, which shines freely on all the world."

Yes, G.o.d's common gifts are his most precious; and his most precious gifts--even life itself--have no root in _themselves_. Not that they are _without_ root; they are _better_ rooted in the depths of His unchangeable love.

It is well to be taught, by such a visitation even as this pestilence, the utter insecurity of everything here. "If the ship itself," as Gottfried says, "is exposed to shipwreck, who, then, can secure the cargo?" Henceforth let me be content with the only security Dr. Luther says G.o.d will give us,--the security of his presence and cure: "_I will never leave thee._"

WITTEMBERG, _June_, 1517.

We are at home once more; and, thank G.o.d, our two households are undiminished, save by one death--that of our youngest sister, the baby when we left Eisenach. The professors and students also have returned.

Dr. Luther, who remained here all the time, is preaching with more force and clearness.

The town is greatly divided in opinion about him. Dr. Tetzel, the great Papal Commissioner for the sale of indulgences, has established his red cross, announcing the sale of pardons, for some months, at Juterbok and Zerbst, not far from Wittemberg.

Numbers of the townspeople, alarmed, I suppose, by the pestilence, into anxiety about their souls, have repaired to Dr. Tetzel, and returned with the purchased tickets of indulgence.

I have always been perplexed as to what the indulgences really give.

Christopher has terrible stories about the money paid for them being spent by Dr. Tetzel and others on taverns and feasts; and Gottfried says, "It is a bargain between the priests, who love money, and the people, who love sin."

Yesterday morning I saw one of the letters of indulgence for the first time. A neighbour of ours, the wife of a miller, whose weights have been a little suspected in the town, was in a state of great indignation when I went to purchase some flour of her.

"See!" she said; "this Dr. Luther will be wiser than the Pope himself.

He has refused to admit my husband to the Holy Sacrament unless he repents and confesses to him, although he took his certificate in his hand."

She gave it to me, and I read it. Certainly, if the doctors of divinity disagree about the value of these indulgences, Dr. Tetzel has no ambiguity nor uncertainty in his language.

"I," says the letter, "absolve thee from all the excesses, sins, and crimes which thou hast committed, however great and enormous they may be. I remit for thee the pains thou mightest have had to endure in purgatory. I restore thee to partic.i.p.ation in the sacraments. I incorporate thee afresh into the communion of the Church. I re-establish thee in the innocence and purity in which thou wast at the time of thy baptism. So that, at the moment of thy death, the gate by which souls pa.s.s into the place of torments will be shut upon thee; while, on the contrary, that which leads to the paradise of joy will be open unto thee. And if thou art not called on to die soon, this grace will remain unaltered for the time of thy latter end.

"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost,

"Friar JOHN TETZEl, Commissary, has signed it with his own hand."

"To think," said my neighbour, "of the pope promising my Franz admittance into paradise; and Dr. Luther will not even admit him to the altar of the parish church? And after spending such a sum on it! for the friar must surely have thought my husband better off than he is, or he would not have demanded gold of poor struggling people like us."

"But if the angels at the gate of paradise should be of the same mind as Dr. Luther?" I suggested, "would it not be better to find that out here than there?"

"It is impossible," she replied; "have we not the Holy Father's own word? and did we not pay a whole golden florin? It is impossible it can be in vain."

"Put the next florin in your scales instead of in Dr. Tetzel's chest, neighbour," said a student, laughing, as he heard her loud and angry words; "it may weigh heavier with your flour than against your sins."

I left them to finish the discussion.

Gottfried says it is quite true that Dr. Luther in the confessional in the city churches has earnestly protested to many of his penitents against their trusting to these certificates, and has positively refused to suffer any to communicate, except on their confessing their sins, and promising to forsake them, whether provided with indulgences or not.

In his sermon to the people last year on the Ten Commandments, he told them forgiveness was freely given to the penitent by G.o.d, and was not to be purchased at any price, least of all with money.

WITTEMBERG, _July_ 18.

The whole town is in a ferment to-day, on account of Dr. Luther's sermon yesterday, preached before the Elector in the Castle church.

The congregation was very large, composed of the court, students, and townspeople.

Not a child or ignorant peasant there but could understand the preacher's words. The Elector had procured especial indulgences from the pope in aid of his church, but Dr. Luther made no exception to conciliate him. He said the Holy Scriptures nowhere demand of us any penalty or satisfaction for our sins. G.o.d gives and forgives freely without price, out of his unutterable grace; and lays on the forgiven no other duty than true repentance and sincere conversion of the heart, resolution to bear the cross of Christ, and do all the good we can. He declared also that it would be better to give money freely towards the building of St. Peter's Church at Rome, than to bargain with alms for indulgences; that it was more pleasing to G.o.d to give to the poor, than to buy these letters, which, he said, would at the utmost do nothing more for any man than remit mere ecclesiastical penances.

As we returned from the church together, Gottfried said,--

"The battle-cry is sounded then at last! The wolf has a.s.sailed Dr.

Luther's own flock, and the shepherd is roused. The battle-cry is sounded, Else, but the battle is scarcely begun."

And when we described the sermon to our grandmother, she murmured,--

"It sounds to me, children, like an old story of my childhood. Have I not heard such words half a century since in Bohemia? and have I not seen the lips which spoke them silenced in flames and blood? Neither Dr.

Luther nor any of you know whither you are going. Thank G.o.d, I am soon going to him who died for speaking just such words! Thank G.o.d I hear them again before I die! I have doubted long about them and about everything; how could I dare to think a few proscribed men right against the whole Church? But since these old words cannot be hushed, but rise from the dead again, I think there must be life in them; eternal life.

Children," she concluded, "tell me when Dr. Luther preaches again; I will hear him before I die, that I may tell your grandfather, when I meet him, the old truth is not dead. I think it would give him another joy, even before the throne of G.o.d."

WITTEMBERG, _August_.

Christopher has returned from Juterbok. He saw there a great pile of burning f.a.ggots, which Dr. Tetzel had caused to be kindled in the market-place, "to burn the heretics," he said.

We laughed as he related this, and also at the furious threats and curses that had been launched at Dr. Luther from the pulpit in front of the iron money-chest. But our grandmother said, "It is no jest, children; they have done it, and they will do it again yet!"

WITTEMBERG, _November_ 1, 1517; ALL SAINTS' DAY.

Yesterday evening, as I sat at the window with Gottfried in the late twilight, hushing Gretchen to sleep, we noticed Dr. Luther walking rapidly along the street towards the Castle church. His step was firm and quick, and he seemed too full of thought to observe anything as he pa.s.sed. There was something unusual in his bearing, which made my husband call my attention to him. His head was erect and slightly thrown back, as when he preaches. He had a large packet of papers in his hand, and although he was evidently absorbed with some purpose, he had more the air of a general moving to a battle-field than of a theologian buried in meditation.

This morning, as we went to the early ma.s.s of the festival, we saw a great crowd gathered around the doors of the Castle church; not a mob, however, but an eager throng of well-dressed men, professors, citizens, and students; those within the circle reading some writing which was posted on the door, whilst around, the crowd was broken into little knots, in eager but not loud debate.

Gottfried asked what had happened.

"It is only some Latin theses against the indulgences, by Dr. Luther,"

replied one of the students, "inviting a disputation on the subject."

I was relieved to hear that nothing was the matter, and Gottfried and I quietly proceeded to the service.

"It is only an affair of the university," I said. "I was afraid it was some national disaster, an invasion of the Turks, or some event in the Elector's family."