CHAPTER VII.

KATHARINE IN TROUBLE, AND DR. MARTIN IN STRIFE WITH HIS FRIENDS.

More than a year had passed. The Autumn of 1524 had come, busily destroying whatever the summer had wrought. In the streets the wind played his pranks with the first fallen leaves. On the housetops the swallows held noisy counsel together, as to their flight to the sunny Southern land, whither the storks had already preceded them.

It was Sunday morning. Crowds streamed from the town church at Wittenberg, where Luther had preached. In eager groups they stood about the market-place; and noticeable among these was the syndic, Philip Reichenbach, engaged in lively conversation with a courtly looking man in a rich dress, whose handsome, intelligent face was of a rare, artistic type. A long beard fell down upon his breast. This was the court-painter and Senator, Lucas Kranach.

"I scarcely trusted my eyes," exclaimed the syndic, eagerly gesticulating, "when I saw Brother Martin appear in the priest's frock, instead of his monkish habit. My heart rejoices, for the ugly cowl no longer suited him. After he has inwardly put away the monk's life, why should he continue to wear its outward sign? The old gown, worn and threadbare as it is, has earned its rest. But it pleases me little that he continues in the monastery, when all the monks, save the Prior Eberhard Brisger, have gone away. It were better he broke with all monkish habits."

"It is well known, dear friend," said Kranach, "that Dr. Martin has small regard for outward appearances. He may have good reasons for continuing in the convent. It is said that the Elector intends to make him a gift of it."

The syndic opened his eyes. "What! and would he receive such a gift?"

"Why not?" asked the other. "It is an evidence of favor on the Elector's part."

"Hm," said Reichenbach, "as you take it. There he sits, alone in the great, dreary, half-ruined house, with no woman's hand to minister to his wants. All that he teaches concerning the blessed Gospel is clear and plain to me; as he teaches, so he lives; and if anything in his words seemed difficult to understand, it is made clear by his life. But this passes my understanding--that, while he encourages priests and monks to enter the state of matrimony and commends it, as one that is holy and well-pleasing to God, yet he, for his own person, will have none of it. Even to Albert of Brandenburg, the Grand Master of the German Order, he gave the advice: 'Throw aside the habit of your order, take a wife, and put a Duke's crown upon your head,' which the great lord has followed, to the joy of all believers, and of Luther especially. It is known that he urged the Archbishop of Mayence, to follow the example of his cousin of Prussia. And does he not give his friends cause for doubting the earnestness of his teaching, or for fearing that he lacks courage, himself to enter the state which he commends to others?"

Lucas Kranach nodded assent. "I think with you, and I wish with all my heart, that Luther were of another mind in this matter, not only for the sake of his friends and the good cause, but for his own. Truly, if matters continue thus, we shall soon weep behind his bier; and then, the Lord only knows what will become of the world. He daily prepares himself for death, being of the opinion that the work will prosper without him, it being God's work, who is able to carve Himself a Dr. Martin out of a willow twig. But I regard it otherwise, namely, that God will not throw aside His chosen instruments until his purpose is accomplished, and the world cannot yet forego Luther's services. But that he may carry out what he has begun, he must not continue alone--without care or service. Even though his bones were of iron, and his nerves of steel, yet the giant's task, which rests upon his shoulders, will bear him down, without a faithful housewife at his side, who will care for the wants of his body. His spirit is oftentimes so lost in heavenly matters, as to forget that the body craves rest and nourishment. Only the other day I found him sitting in his chair, faint and pale, and at my questioning he confessed that over the translation of the Psalms, he had passed two days and two nights without food or drink. When at night, wearied with the day's work, he lies down upon his bed, it is a hard one, and no gentle hand has smoothed his pillow. Oh, that God would guide his heart to choose a wife who would be a helpmeet for him! He would soon recover his strength and be of good courage. But where indeed," continued Kranach with a sigh, "where is the woman worthy of such a man?" He paused, and his eyes wandered over the crowded square. "See," he exclaimed, "yonder goes your dear wife with Mistress Katharine! Is it true, as I have been told, that the Reverend Doctor Caspar Glatz has sued for her hand?"

Reichenbach's face was clouded with annoyance, as he answered: "You touch upon a matter which troubles me sorely. You doubtless heard that young Baumgaertner, who at one time pursued her with his loving glances, soon forgot our Kate, and took the wife his father had chosen for him! I am almost glad of it, for Kate now sees that I was in the right, and that the youth, by reason of his light mind and fickle heart, was unworthy of her. But I am distressed at this suit of Dr. Glatz, which Luther favors, thinking Katharine, as a former nun, most fitted to become the wife of a God-fearing priest. He is a good man, and if the sacrifice must needs be made, I would rather give her to him than to many another. But behold, since Master Nicholas von Amsdorf came at Luther's bidding, to press the Doctor's suit, she is wholly changed. She heard him in silence, then burst into tears and said: 'Reverend sir, love cannot be forced or commanded; it must be given by God. My heart is cold toward him you bid me marry, and I never could be to him what a Christian wife should be, according to God's word and command. Do not urge me, for I would rather continue in my present condition all my life, than give my hand to Dr. Glatz.' When Amsdorf represented to her that Luther would be ill-pleased at her refusal, her tears flowed afresh, and she begged that he might not be told; but that she herself would acquaint him with her decision. When on that same day Luther came to us, there was a scene which brought the tears to our eyes. Katharine fell at his feet, and spoke as I have never heard her speak. The Doctor dealt with her as a father with his child, comforted her with gentle, kindly words, and promised not to torment her any further, but to leave the matter in God's hands. After she had gone away, he sat with us for an hour longer, looking very serious, and spoke to us in such moving words, that it was easy to see how greatly he was disturbed by Katharine's trouble. After musing for some moments, he said: 'Now I understand, my friend, why you fear to lose Katharine. She is indeed a treasure, and a maiden after God's own heart. I am vexed with myself, that I have hitherto regarded her so little, when I am really her guardian and her spiritual father.' Since that day Katharine no longer stands timidly aloof from the Doctor, but is ready at all times to speak with him; and if he commends her housewifely virtues and maidenly reserve, her face beams with pleasure."

Lucas Kranach, who had listened with much attention, replied: "Yes, Katharine is of an excellent disposition, and grows ever dearer to me. I was heartily glad for her sake, when the exiled King of Denmark, during his recent visit in Wittenberg, gave her a golden ring, in acknowledgment of her womanly virtues. But God forbid, that such distinction should make her vain!"

"Do not fear," Reichenbach replied; "her mind is not set upon high things."

In the meantime they had reached the Augustinian monastery, where Luther lived. Two wayfarers, who had doubtless asked help of the Doctor, were coming out of the door; for no one in Wittenberg was so frequently sought out by the poor and needy, as was the Professor with his salary of 22 thalers and 12 groschen. He gave his last coin, and when that was spent, he did not spare the silver cup, which had been a gift from the Elector.

"Come, let us wish the Doctor a good day," said Kranach. "I desire to thank him for his sermon."

They crossed the court, and passing through a long, dark passage, reached Luther's cell. They found him sitting at his table--a large pile of letters before him. He received his friends with evident pleasure.

"Welcome, dear friends! See here--my Sunday-guests, who see to it that Doctor Martin shall have no rest even on this blessed day. They all seem to be wedding-guests. Yes, you may well stare--to-day all my friends would have me marry. Here is a letter from my good friend, Mistress Argula von Grumbach, who with many words urges me to establish by my own act my doctrine of priestly marriage, and by my own example to encourage others. Here is another from Pastor Link in Altenburg. He announces the birth of a daughter. Here again, my father resumes his old litany, and speaks with such moving words, that methinks I must reach out after the first maiden I can find. Now tell me, dear friends, are not these merry Sunday-guests?"

Lucas Kranach answered earnestly: "Perhaps they are God's messengers to you, Martin. Your friends are in danger of losing faith in your teachings, if you continue in your present course."

Luther shook his head, where the tonsure had almost disappeared under his curly hair.

"Do my friends so little understand me? See, dearest Lucas, by what I have said concerning the sanctity and the necessity of priestly marriage, I will abide forevermore. For according to God's Word, there is no condition on earth more blessed than that of marriage, which God Himself has instituted and sanctified for men of every degree, and in which state not only kings and princes and saints, but, although in a different manner, even the eternal Son of God, was born. Yet for myself, I have no thought of taking a wife. My enemies are busy enough; for to the slanders of the Papists are added the revilings of the 'heavenly prophets,' in whose name the ill-conditioned Thomas Munzer has published a pamphlet 'against the ungodly, soft-living flesh at Wittenberg.' Were I to marry, they would speedily cry out: 'Aha, now we see what his Gospel means--to serve the flesh and live in ease!' This fear makes even my friends to hesitate, and Dr. Schurf said but lately: 'If this monk took a wife, the devils would laugh, and the angels would weep;' and my dear Philip Melanchthon, who stood by, added: 'Yes, the Papists are watching for it; and if he did this thing, he would work his doctrine greater harm than the Pope's excommunication or the Emperor's interdict were able to do.' Moreover, who would think of marrying in these troublous times, when peasants have gone mad, when castles and convents are burning on all sides, and streams of innocent blood are flowing? Nor do I experience within myself the least inclination thereto. I am indeed in the Lord's hand, who can turn my heart and mind whenever it pleases Him. But as I am now disposed, I will not take a wife. Not that I am of wood or stone, but my mind is averse to marriage, and I daily anticipate a heretic's doom. Nor would I harden my heart, or reason with the Lord--but I trust that He will not suffer me to abide much longer in this world. Finally, when I advocated the marriage of priests, I did not thereby intend to impose a new sort of bondage, or to place a new yoke upon men's necks, like the unhappy Karlstadt, who would perforce compel every priest to marry. There shall be perfect liberty in this matter--either to do, or to leave undone."

Luther spoke in a tone of such very decided conviction, that Kranach did not venture to reply. He grasped the Doctor's hand, asking his friend's pardon with his eyes. Reichenbach also arose, and said gently: "God will provide!"

The two men took their leave, and Luther, being much wearied, called Wolfgang, and bade him read aloud to him the remaining letters.