CHAPTER XII.

A NEW LIFE.

"See, Wolfgang, how lustily our garden things are growing," said Luther one sunny afternoon in June of 1526 to his amanuensis, the lame Wolfgang Sieberger, who came limping after him. "Here are the onions and radishes grown from seed my friend Langen sent me, and yonder the melons and cucumbers from Wenzel Link in Nuremberg. The roses from Altenburg please me much; the buds are ready to burst. How delighted Mistress Kate will be, when I bring her the first of our roses. But, Wolfgang, how comes it that your jacket is so soiled? Have you been at work in the stable? Save your reputation, my learned famulus!"

Wolfgang brushed the straw from his sleeve, and answered with an important look: "Had I not helped we would be poorer by one sucking pig, which in its youthful frivolity wandered away and fell into a ditch."

Luther laughed heartily: "Dr. Martin has indeed become a farmer, Mistress Kate a farmer's wife, and Master Wolfgang a farm-servant. I never dreamed that such honor and dignity would befall me. When I return from my pulpit or lecture-hall, and enter the court, where in former times a solemn silence reigned, I am greeted on all sides by such a cackling and grunting and bleating, that my heart fails me, when I think of all the pious monks and abbots, who are sleeping their last sleep here below. What would they say to such deafening noises in this sacred spot? If I would walk in the garden, and enjoy the fragrance of the flowers, suddenly a swarm of bees flies buzzing about my head, and I have learned, to my sorrow, how sharp a sword they carry. The convent is alive with human beings--almost too many, methinks. In the end it will be needful that I buy a horse of Abraham the Jew, and myself follow the plough."

Wolfgang listened with a smile and shook his head: "Reverend Doctor, you jest about the busy life in your house, and yet you owe thanks to those who have brought it about; for without it, you would fare ill, and so forth."

"What do you mean, Wolf?" asked Luther.

"What do I mean?" said Wolfgang, limping a few steps nearer. "My meaning can be made clear to you without figures, and so forth. What is the amount of the salary paid you by the Elector since your marriage? Two hundred florins. How much have we spent during the past year? Nearly five hundred florins, including the three silver drinking cups."

"Wolf," exclaimed Luther, "that is a strange reckoning."

"It is correct," continued Wolfgang, with growing excitement, "for according to your directions I have kept the books, and so forth. If you will remember, how many guests have sat at your table during the year, how many poor students have been fed daily, how many monks, and nuns, and others, have eaten of your substance, not to mention the gifts which your boundless generosity has scattered with open hands--if you will take this into consideration, and so forth, you will perceive that two hundred florins cannot last the year. Your purse is ever open, and everybody's hand is in it. Truly, you had been a beggar, and in a debtor's prison, and so forth, had not Mistress Luther managed so wisely, and had she not been careful to turn everything to profit, and so forth. I regard the Mistress with deep reverence, for with all her gentleness she has a clear and courageous spirit, and although so many burdens rest upon her, she never grows weary, but has at all times a cheerful heart, and guides her household with a firm and skillful hand, and so forth. But all this farm-yard business would not be needed, if the reverend Doctor would but consent to receive pay for his services to the University. Still larger sums would you gather, if you accepted what the printers offer for your books, and especially for the translation of the Holy Scriptures. You would soon be a veritable Croesus, and relieved of all care concerning temporal things."

Luther made an impatient gesture. His brows were raised, so that his eyes seemed larger than usual, and flashed with an angry light. "Are you again harping on the old tune, Wolfgang? It is an offence to me. Have I not told you, again and again, that I will not sell the Word of God for money? I will not bear the shame before my friends and the world, that it should be said of me: He has preached the Gospel for filthy lucre's sake, that he might heap up riches and fare sumptuously every day. 'Freely ye have received, freely give,' saith the Lord. Did not the Man who died for me let it cost Him dearly enough? Then I too will dedicate my life to my work, neither will I accept the world's reward."

Wolfgang, who stood upon a very friendly footing with the Doctor, here ventured to interrupt him: "Well said, Herr Doctor; but even though for your own person you desire nothing, and despise the treasures of this earth,--yet are you not bound to provide for those who are dependent upon you, and to secure their future, by laying aside what will keep them from want?"

"That I shall never do," replied Luther, with decision. "Otherwise they would put their trust not in God, but in their possessions, and to them their hearts would cling."

Shaking his head, Wolfgang turned, and slowly walked across the court, soliloquizing as he went: "A wonderful man, the Doctor, and so forth! How great and lofty is his spirit, and how pitiable seems one of us beside him. Such a man I never saw. He pleads for others, that a stone would be moved to pity, but for himself he asks nothing, although he needs it sorely. How many have, through his intercession, obtained favor from the Elector; yet he opposes those who would report his own needs. If he accepts a gift even from his nearest friend, it is only after much persuasion, and for the sake of sharing it with others. Thus he disposed of the two hundred florins sent him recently by his grace, the Elector, and of the hundred florins sent him by an unknown person, through Bugenhagen. I remember with sorrow the fine roebuck from the Elector's forest, it would have furnished us meat for three or four days, but the Doctor must needs invite so many friends, that they quickly made an end of it. I grieve for the costly flagon of glass and tin, a wedding gift from our gracious lord, which is about to follow the rest, being destined for the Pastor Agricola in Eisleben; because, forsooth, he expressed his admiration of it. I heard the Doctor whisper to his guest: 'I will send it before another gets it, for my Kate would fain keep it for herself, to feast her eyes upon it.' I was secretly glad, when he could not find the flagon, in time for Agricola's birthday, for in the meantime Mistress Kate had hidden it away. But what shall it avail her? As I saw with my own eyes, the Doctor wrote to Eisleben, that for the present he was unable to keep his promise, which he greatly regretted, but he hoped soon to get the flagon into his possession.--My dear Doctor is not to be measured by the standard of ordinary mortals, and so forth. Therefore it may be regarded as a wise providence of God, that such a helpmeet was given him, who, by her housewifely virtues, her thrift, her industry, foresight and experience, can sustain her household with small means. It is the Doctor's good fortune, that his wife is of a different nature from himself, thus producing a pleasant harmony between the two, and so forth."

The worthy Wolfgang, at the end of his soliloquy, found himself at the door of the stable, where stood his lathe, and where the Doctor, when his mind was wearied with study, often helped him at his work. He heard footsteps behind him, and turning, saw Luther coming toward him.

"Let us turn the lathe, dear Wolf," said Luther, "and test the new tools which my friend Link sent me from Nuremberg. I am ill-disposed for other work. My breast is sorely oppressed, and my breathing is difficult."

Wolfgang brought out the tools and they set to work. Before many minutes had passed, a maid-servant rushed from the house. Her face was flushed, and tears were in her eyes. "Herr Doctor!" she exclaimed, "Herr Doctor."

Luther looked up from his work. "What is it, Dorothy?" and a sudden flush rose to his face. Luther understood the gestures of the excited girl, and hurrying across the court, he soon stood by the bedside of his faithful wife, who had brought him a precious gift. He lay there, gazing upon his father with great clear eyes,--a strong, handsome boy. But an hour ago, Katharine was walking in the garden, and now God had given her her firstborn son.

In the joy of his overflowing heart, Luther took the child into his arms, looked into its eyes, and caressed it. "O thou dear, heavenly Father," he exclaimed, "how has poor brother Martin deserved so great a blessing! Behold this is pure, unmerited grace, and humbles me to the dust, so that I could weep,--My dear child, thou art most heartily welcome. My heart already beats with love toward thee, who hast yet done nothing to call it forth. Now I can understand how God's love toward us poor creatures forestalls our love. He does not wait until we come to Him and bring Him our love, but He comes to us.--My child, thy name shall be John, that, as often as I call thee, I may remember God's mercy, which this day has visited our house. For thy grandfather's sake also, thou shall bear his name. I can see in the spirit how his dim eyes will brighten at the tidings of thy birth, and his withered lips will glorify the name of the Lord." Turning to his wife, he said: "My dear Kate, you have made me very rich, and are daily kindling a warmer love within my heart. I would gladly give my life for you, if there were need.--But now I will hasten and call a clergyman, that this poor little heathen be made a Christian."

He reached after his cloak and hat, and left the house. An hour later, at four o'clock, the child was baptized by the Chaplain, George Roerer,--Kranach, Bugenhagen, and Jonas acting as sponsors. The custom of the time demanded that a child be baptized immediately after its birth.

With the child, a new life entered into Luther's house. A child is a tie which binds even closer those who were joined together before the altar, and is a visible reminder, that these two are pledged to inseparable companionship. Although Luther had always loved and esteemed his wife, a new tenderness now seemed to warm his heart. Katharine did not fail to perceive this increase of love, and holding her child in her arms, she often whispered, with moist eyes: "Thou sweet child! thy mother owes thee hearty thanks, for thou hast brought a great blessing into the house."

A lively competition soon arose between Katharine and her cousin, "Aunt Lena," whom Luther had received into his family after her escape from the convent, both claiming the first right to the care of the child,--Kate, because she was its mother, and the older woman because of her gratitude to those who had taken pity on her helpless condition. Whosoever saw Dr. Martin playing with his little Hans, asked himself, if this were indeed the man who had shaken the world to its very foundations; whose name was on the lips of every Christian--the hero of Worms, the prophet of the Most High? The man before whom kings and princes bowed, and whom the pope, together with his bishops, feared, more than the Grand Turk himself? How could this great man become a child again, and speak in words that a child might understand? Verily, an able and learned master was he, understanding not only the tongue of the ancient Israelites, and of the Greeks and Romans, but speaking withal the language of childhood in such a fluent manner, that it was a delight to hear him. Whence did he take the time, burdened as he was with cares of weightiest import, to play with his child and to watch his growth? In letters to his friends he had much to tell of his little Hans, of his first tooth, his first steps, and his baby prattle.--Many an one who calls himself a scholar, sits buried among his books, which are to him as children, devoting to them his whole strength, his time and his heart, while in the nursery yonder the patient mother toils for and with her living children. It seems too small a matter, to descend from the heights of spiritual life to the beginnings of human development. Martin Luther was a scholar, before whose learning many an one, who thinks he has mastered much wisdom, must hide his head. But he was far more,--being a man of a universal grasp of mind; a genius,--great in whatever position he filled; great, even, when he descended to small things.

There has been preserved to us a letter, written by Luther in the year 1530, from the Castle of Coburg, to his four year old son, which is a jewel of educational wisdom, and a fitting example of the great man's skill in the language of childhood.

"Grace and Peace in Christ, my dear little son! I am well pleased to hear that thou learnest well thy lessons and prayest diligently. Continue to do so, my son, and when I come home, I will bring thee a fine "fairing." I know of a lovely, gay garden, wherein are many children, wearing golden coats, who gather from under the trees sweet apples, pears, cherries and plums. They sing, dance and are merry, and have pretty little horses, with saddles of silver and bridles of gold. I asked the master of the garden, whose were these children? He said: These are the children who love to pray and learn their lessons, and who are good. Then said I: Dear man, I too have a little son, whose name is Hans Luther. Might not he also come into this garden, and eat of these beautiful apples and pears, ride upon these fine horses, and play with these children? Said the man: If he willingly prays and learns, and is good, he may come into the garden, and Lippus[1] and Jost[2] with him. And when they are all together, they shall have pipes, drums, lutes, and all sorts of stringed instruments; and they shall dance, and shoot with little cross bows. And he showed me a smooth lawn in the garden, prepared for dancing; there hung pipes of pure gold, drums and silver cross-bows. But it was still very early, and the children had not yet dined, therefore I could not wait for the dance. I said to the man: Dear sir, I will forthwith go, and write these things to my dear son Hans, and tell him to pray diligently, learn well and be good, that he too may come into this garden. But he has an Aunt Lena, whom he must bring with him. The man said: So it shall be. Go and write him, as you have said. Therefore, my dear little son, pray and learn cheerfully, and tell Lips and Jost to do the same, that you may together come into the garden. And herewith I commit you to the dear Lord's keeping. Greet Aunt Lena, and give her a kiss from me.

"Your loving father, MARTIN LUTHER."

Thus he wrote, when in the Castle of Coburg, strengthened he with his prayers and his counsel the hearts of his friends, who appeared at the Diet of Augsburg, before the Emperor and the assembled dignitaries of the Empire, to confess the Protestant faith, and to obtain for the Reformation the recognition of its rights.

[l] Melanchthon's son Philip.

[2] Jonas' son Justus.