CHAPTER XVII.

PEACE.

It was a still, sultry morning in August, 1532. Heavy clouds covered the sky and tempered somewhat the heat of the sun. Fido, the little dog, stretched himself lazily upon his bed, and the pigeons on the house-top hung their wings. In the court-yard of Luther's house, however, there was bustling activity, as if in preparation for some festivity. Wolfgang was helping his mistress fill the clear, home-brewed ale into jugs, when the trumpeter from the tower of the town-church proclaimed the sixth hour. Katharine left the brewing house, and hurried to the barnyard, where two maids were wringing the necks of some fat hens. Then she went to the kitchen, to satisfy herself that everything was progressing in orderly fashion. Afterward, accompanied by Wolfgang and a man-servant, she walked through the still silent streets to an orchard, which Luther owned, in the neighborhood of the pig-market. Here, overshadowed by dense willow-bushes, lay a little fish-pond. The two men set to work, casting their net, and soon Katharine, who in the meantime had plucked a basket full of ripe pears, saw her tub filled with fish of various kinds.

"These will please the Doctor," she said, with a satisfied smile. "He is a great lover of fish, and this dish shall serve as a special ornament to our feast."

"With your permission," interrupted Daniel, the servant, "I have not yet been able to learn what is the occasion of this feast."

"Do you not know, Daniel, that we at last have peace in Germany?" asked Katharine, surprised. On the homeward walk she told him what had taken place at the diet at Nuremberg: that the protestant princes had agreed to furnish the Emperor with aid against the Turks, on condition that he would not further molest them in the exercise of their religion, but concede to the Gospel its rights, until the matter should be determined by a general church council.

As they entered the Court, master Peter, the barber, came hurriedly from the house, greeted Mistress Katharine, and asked if the Doctor were not at home. He had knocked three times at the study-door, without receiving an answer.

"No doubt," said Katharine, "he has been at his books all night."

She went to her husband's chamber,--his bed was untouched; then she hurried to his study, and knocking repeatedly, heard no sound from within. She anxiously opened the door;--there sat the Doctor, motionless, bending over a book. Beside him on the table stood a plate with a piece of dry bread and half a herring.

"Doctor!" exclaimed Katharine, pausing at the door. Luther did not move. She went to him, took his hand, and bent over him, with a look of mingled anxiety and reproach.

Luther looked up in surprise.

"Dearest Doctor," said Katharine, "how you have alarmed me. Why do you do thus?"

Her question aroused him fully. A shadow passed over his face, and he pointed to the Hebrew Bible before him: "Why do you reproach me, Kate? think you that what I am doing is evil? Do you not know that I must work while it is day? For the night cometh, when no man can work."

He spoke almost harshly, but she knew that he was not angry. She silently caressed the kind hand, whose labors for the weal of the human race never ceased. Her eyes fell upon the half-consumed herring, and with a sad smile she said: "How is it that with such meagre fare you have so strong and stately a figure? Melanchthon appears as a lad beside you.--But to-day you must permit your wife to refresh you with a festive repast, after your labors. Our friends are coming to rejoice with us over the newly-won peace."

Luther passed his hand over his forehead. "I had well-nigh forgotten; but I shall enjoy our feast in the company of my friends. Spalatin too has promised to be present." He rose, and laying his hand on his wife's shoulder, said gently: "My dear wife, how heartily you are concerned for me. Wish me joy that God has given me a helpmate, who so carefully watches over my health, and bears so patiently with my faults and infirmities. Dr. Martin would far ill, had he not his Kate, who is better able, than he, to rule his household."

Katharine was disconcerted by his praise, and to change the subject said: "Master Peter, the barber, is waiting; may he come in, dear Doctor?"

Luther nodded, and the barber--a small, lean man, with thoughtful eyes, and a nimble tongue--was admitted. He greeted the Doctor respectfully. While he was stirring the soap in the cup, Luther asked:

"Well, master, what news do you bring me to-day?"

Peter was silent for a moment, then stammered: "Ah, most reverend Doctor, the newest is this, that master Peter has not yet learned how to pray. I have long desired to ask you, for, being a great theologian, you may well instruct a poor Christian in this art."

Luther smiled. "First do your work; afterwards I will tell you."

The barber made haste, impatient for his lesson to begin.

"Sit down, dear master Peter," said Luther, when he had finished. "You say praying is an art? Yes, verily,--an art, which the Papists little understand. And yet it is easily learned by every sincere Christian. See, master Peter, when your soul is disinclined to prayer, you must rouse it. Take your Psalter, withdraw to a quiet place, and read until your heart grows warm. You may also take your Catechism and devoutly consider the five Parts. This is an excellent means of kindling a flame within the heart. Although I am an old Doctor of Theology, yet like a child from its mother, I draw daily nourishment from the article of the Christian Faith and that of the Lord's Prayer. When you pray, let it be with a whole, undivided heart. Even a good barber must needs fix his eyes and his thoughts upon his razor, and not chatter and gaze about him."

Master Peter in many words expressed his gratitude, and rose to leave; but Luther detained him, saying:

"If you have time, stay, and be present at our morning worship."

He took the Bible and Catechism from the table, and, followed by the barber, proceeded to the great hall, where the household was already assembled, and awaiting the master's appearance.

After a pleasant greeting, all took their places at the long, oaken table. Luther sat at the head; at his right Mistress Katharine with Aunt Lena and the children; at his left Peter and Jerome Weller, with Wolfgang and four other young men, who were regarded as members of the family; opposite them, the sisters Elsa and Lena Kaufman, and at the lower end the servants.

Luther began with his full, rich voice, all the other voices, deep and high, joining in, and reverently singing:

"In these our days so perilous,[1] Lord, peace in mercy send us; No God but Thee can fight for us, No God but Thee defend us; Thou, our only God and Saviour."

After the master of the house had read the 23d Psalm, all rose and devoutly repeated the Morning Prayer:

"In the name of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost. Amen. I give thanks unto thee, Heavenly Father, through Jesus Christ Thy dear Son, that Thou hast protected me through the night from all danger and harm; and I beseech Thee to preserve and keep me, this day also, from all sin and evil; that in all my thoughts, words, and deeds, I may serve and please Thee. Into Thy hands I commend my body and soul, and all that is mine. Let Thy holy angel have charge concerning me, that the wicked one have no power over me. Amen."[2]

"Now let us hear the catechism," continued Luther. "Wolfgang, will you begin?"

Wolfgang rose, with folded hands, and recited the first commandment; his neighbor the second and so on, until it came to Luther's turn, who like the rest, repeated his portion.

"Dear Hans," Luther asked his six-year-old son, "can you tell me where I ended my explanation yesterday?"

"At the close of the ten commandments, dear father," was the ready answer.

"Then give heed," said Luther, "that you may know what is meant by 'the law.' The creature may well fear the law, with its threats and penalties. It is God's purpose, that the law should cause sinners to tremble; for it is a taskmaster, holding the scourge in his right hand. But understand me well,--the law is not a taskmaster for its own sake, as though it delighted in punishment, but it is evermore pointing to Christ. What manner of master would he be, who tormented and chastised his scholars without ceasing, yet taught them nothing? Of such schoolmasters there have been many,--tyrants, who made their schools places of torture, beating without reason or measure the poor children, who studied with great labor and diligence, and yet with small profit. The law is a master of quite another sort, not only making its children to fear, but driving to Christ those who fall under its condemnation. But having driven us to Him, threats no longer avail. Were Moses to accuse my conscience, I should say: Nay, Moses, but Christ is here. And on the blessed Judgment Day, Moses will say to me: Thou hast understood me well. For he that is in Christ, is delivered from the law, as the Scripture saith: 'Christ is the end of the law.' Those who are Christ's, are no longer under the law, but are sanctified." Turning to his wife, he said suddenly: "Dear Kate, do you believe that you are sanctified?"

Taken aback by his abrupt question, she was unable at once to reply. After considering for a moment, she said: "How should I believe that I am sanctified? Am I not a great sinner?"

The Doctor smiled. "See the popish unbelief,--how it has wounded the hearts of men, and possessed the inner nature so entirely, that it sees nothing beyond that outward, personal righteousness and holiness, which we achieve for ourselves. Dear Kate, if you believe that you are baptized a Christian, you must needs believe that you are sanctified. Holy baptism has power, so to change our sinfulness, that although continually present and felt, yet it does not condemn us."

A faint blush rose to Katharine's cheek, and a mute, eloquent glance thanked her husband for his comforting words.

Thereafter, following the master's example, all rose while he pronounced the blessing. The maidservants then brought in the morning meal, which was eaten in silence; after which all went to their work.

The Doctor brought from his study the Hebrew Bible and, accompanied by Peter Weller, repaired to the University, to lecture upon the Book of Genesis. Jerome took Hans to his own room, where he instructed the child in reading and writing.

During the forenoon a long table, covered with a fresh linen cloth, was placed in the court-yard, under the pear-tree; the Doctor had desired to enjoy this festive occasion under the open sky.

But darker rose the clouds, driven by a strong wind, and soon the first heavy drops plashed upon the ground. Katharine called her maids, to remove the table, and complained to her husband, who had just returned, that the rain was spoiling her pleasure.

"Not so, dear Kate," protested Luther. "God gives us what is worth many hundred thousand florins. It is now raining wheat, oats, corn, grass, and the like, for which we should thank the dear Lord, and not murmur. There is abundant room within the house,--Hark! Is not that a wagon? It is surely Spalatin. I feared he might not come. The other guests are already here."

A wagon rolled into the court, and a moment later, in the pouring rain, Luther held his beloved Spalatin in his arms. The other guests hurried from the house to greet the new comer--Melanchthon, Jonas, Bugenhagen, George Rorer, the chaplain of St. Mary's, Kaspar Cruciger, and Lucas Kranach. The wives of Jonas and Melanchthon had also been invited. Both were namesakes and warm friends of Mistress Luther, so that on that day three Katharines sat at table together.

Luther's friends rejoiced to see his cheerful mood, for only lately his spirit had been oppressed by deep melancholy. He inquired with much interest after the health of the Elector, who had been ailing since February, and the favorable report which Spalatin was able to give, added to the general cheerfulness.

After much pleasant talk, Luther rose from his chair, lifted his glass, and said: "My dear friends, it has hitherto been the custom among Christians, to cross themselves at the mention of the Infidel, and to wish him much evil, as the enemy of God and the spoiler of Christendom. But to-day it is more fitting that we thank him and drink to his health."

The men laughed at the jest. The Sultan Suleiman had indeed been the means of bringing about a peace between the Emperor and the allied Protestant princes. The danger which threatened the German Empire from the east, had compelled him to purchase their aid against the common enemy, by yielding to their demands in the matter of religion.

Luther continued: "Every creature becomes, often unwittingly, an instrument in the hand of God, for the accomplishing of His holy Will. Those who plan to do evil, do good instead; and while they would fain destroy God's kingdom, they help to build it up. May our faith never grow weary, for the Lord has many ways and means, even where our short sight can see no remedy. Here the Infidel himself must needs help the Gospel, in despite of the Pope and the Emperor.--How mercifully the Lord has sustained his cause! Everywhere throughout the Empire there are many who follow the truth. The building is under roof; it now needs to be completed and preserved. A new generation has arisen. The burden no longer rests upon me alone; but many stand as pillars of the new life, as leaders in the warfare between darkness and light."

Spalatin nodded: "Yes, Brother Martin, I too rejoice in the advancement of the good cause. The Elector returned with renewed hopefulness from Nuremberg, which has doubtless contributed to the improvement in his health."

"I have taken a hearty draught in honor of the Turk," said the chaplain Rorer, "but far greater honor is due to the man, whose wisdom brought about the peace between the Emperor and the Union of Smalcald;--the man who so clearly distinguishes between what is God's and what is Cæsar's; better than Zwingli, whose mingling of spiritual with temporal things has caused his destruction."

Luther, towards whom, at these words, all eyes were turned, lifted his hand, and said earnestly: "Dear Rorer, you know that such praise pleases me little. What I am, I am by the grace of God,--to Him alone the honor is due."

Spalatin, in the meantime, was whispering into Katharine's ear: "His grace, the Elector, sends your husband through me a gift of a hundred gold florins. Small as it is, in comparison with the consolation he received from Dr. Luther during his recent illness, yet his heart urged him to show his gratitude, as far as he is able. I will not offer it to the Doctor, knowing that he will refuse the gift, which I pray you, dear Mistress Luther, to accept; for I know that you have need of it, and the Elector will be much pleased."

Katharine whispered her thanks and said: "It is impossible to change the Doctor's mind in these matters. Only the day before yesterday, a young man who had finished his studies, and lacked the money for his homeward journey, came to us for help. My husband reached into his pocket, and finding it empty, he took a silver cup from the shelf and offered it to his student, who refused to accept it. I made signs to the Doctor with my eyes; but as though he neither saw nor heard, he crushed the cup in his strong hand, and forced it upon the young man, saying: "I have no need of silver cups. Take it to the silversmith, and whatever he gives you, is yours."

Spalatin's eyes glistened, as he glanced toward Dr. Martin, and with admiring veneration, he said softly: "That is Luther!"

Presently, Katharine rose, and brought in the fish. When in passing it around, she came to her husband, he tapped her on the shoulder. "Kate, I think you have more pleasure from your small fish-pond, than many a nobleman from his large ones, whence he can draw hundreds of fish. Ah, many an one lives in plenty, and yet cannot enjoy God's gifts with profit and pleasure."

Melanchthon, as was his habit, had sat in silent meditation. Suddenly he looked up, and turning to Luther, said: "I marvel, what our enemies would say if they saw us sitting thus pleasantly together?"

"Let them say what they will," interrupted Luther. "If we fast, they cry: Pharisees and hypocrites. If we eat, they say: Gluttons and wine-bibbers! Thus it was when our Saviour lived upon the earth. But what says our Lord in Heaven, when we enjoy His gifts? Truly, He has made them all for our use, and asks nothing further, than that we acknowledge them as His gifts, and receive them with thanksgiving."

The conversation continued for an hour longer; then Luther and his friends rose and gave thanks after meat.

The air having grown cool and fresh after the rain, the men repaired to the court, to enjoy a game of bowls, while the women sat down together under the pear-tree.

The friendship of these three women was not less intimate than that of their husbands; especially were Katharine and the wife of Justus Jonas congenial, sharing joy and sorrow with one another. Often, when Luther's forebodings pointed to an early death, and his imagination pictured to him his widowed wife, he referred her to Mistress Katharine Jonas for support and consolation. The mothers' friendship had descended to the children, who were, fond of playing and studying together.

Suddenly Luther's voice was heard, welcoming a new guest, and looking up, they saw John Walter, the choir-master from Torgau, whom Luther held in high esteem. There were joyous greetings from all, except Wolfgang, who was ill pleased at the interruption, and grumbled to himself: "Why must he come upon us just at this moment? Now the game is at an end, and so forth, and the miserable singing and howling will begin." The worthy Wolfgang, who had doubtless taken his lessons in singing from the jackdaws and magpies, considered a game of bowls superior to the finest music.

His fears were speedily realized. All gathered around the choir-master, and under his direction song after song was sung,--first folk-songs, of which Luther was very fond, then hymns and chorales, such as at Luther's request and with his assistance Walter had published for the Protestant worship. Higher and higher rose their spirits upon the wings of song, until the enthusiasm reached its climax, as Walter intoned that glorious song of battle and triumph: "A mighty Fortress is our God." The sounds re-echoed from the convent walls, and the evening wind bore the triumphal strains forth into the streets of the town. Wondrous was the power of this heroic song, which, with its majestic waves of sound, seized upon every heart. Even Wolfgang yielded, and added his croaking voice to the chorus.

The twilight slowly gathered, and after Katharine had offered her guests a light refreshment, all, except Spalatin and Walter, returned to their homes.

[1] Translated by R. Massie.

[2] Church Book, Catechism, p. 55.