As for the slight difference shown in the seventeen printed editions of this translation still extant, they are easily explained. The printers, out of consideration for their readers, were pretty free in introducing dialect forms.
If we glance at the language, we shall find here some good points, but as the original manuscripts of which Johann Rellach made use were not all equally good, the same holds of all the printed translations. Of the different varieties which never appeared in print at all, Walther praises some on account of their excellent German, for instance, the one he places second on his list, and which may date from the second half of the 14th century. As a whole, however, particularly in the printed translation, the language suffers from a too slavish adherence to the style of the Latin text. A more exact classification, according to the excellence of the language, is, however, impossible until the whole field has been explored by our German philologists.
Owing to the matter not having yet been sufficiently investigated, we cannot determine accurately what influence the earlier translations had on the German Bible published by Luther. Luther himself says never a word of having used them.
It would, however, be just as bad to say, on the one hand, that Luther made no use whatever of the older version and had not even a copy of it to refer to in the Wartburg during his work on the New Testament or, on the other, as some have done, that Luther stole the best part of his work from earlier German translators.
When he wrote from the Wartburg that now he knew what it was to translate, and why, hitherto, no translator had dared to put his name to his work, he proves that he was aware that all previous German translations were anonymous, a fact which presupposes some acquaintance with them. Older translations cannot have been inaccessible to him at the Wartburg, and might well have been sent him by friends at Eisenach or Wittenberg, who, as we know, did occasionally send him books; when he had returned home, moreover, he could easily have found copies in his old monastery or at the University. Portions of the Bible, viz. the Plenaries, were doubtless within his reach from the first, and since he finished his translation of the New Testament in so short a time as three months, though all the while engaged on a number of other works, it is only natural to suppose that he lightened his labours by the use of other versions within his reach as any other scholar would have done, though undoubtedly he used his own judgment in his selection. That, in the work of revision at Wittenberg at a much later date, the mediæval text was employed, appears quite plain from the alterations introduced by Luther.
J. Geffcken was probably not far wrong when he wrote in 1855 in “Der Bilderkatechismus des 15. Jahrhunderts,” “that the similarity between Luther’s version and the old translations could not be merely fortuitous.”
The same was repeated with still greater emphasis by Krafft in 1883 after he had instituted fresh comparisons: “Whoever compares these passages can no longer doubt that the agreement between Luther’s work and the mediæval German Bible is not merely accidental.” The result of further research will probably be to confirm the guarded opinion expressed as long ago as 1803 by G. W. Meyer of Göttingen in his “Geschichte der Schrifterklärung”: to assume that “the older translation was not unknown to him,” “that he consulted it here and there,” and even “made his own some of its happy renderings,” is quite compatible with a high esteem for Luther’s translation.
Modern Protestant writers in this field are also somewhat sceptical about the theory of Luther’s complete ignorance of the older translation of the Bible, and the assertion that he made no use whatever of it. O. Reichert, for instance, in his new work “Luthers deutsche Bibel” makes the following remarks on Luther’s work in the Wartburg, with which we may fittingly conclude this section: “Although he probably was able to make use of Lang’s translation of 1521 in his rendering of Matthew, and as a matter of fact did have recourse to it, and though he most likely also had the old German translation at his elbow, as is apparent from many coincidences, nevertheless, what Luther accomplished is an achievement worthy of all admiration.”
4. Luther’s Hymns
Amongst the means to be employed for the spread and consolidation of the new Evangel Luther included, in addition to his Bible, German hymns for use in public worship.
In 1523 and 1524 especially, he busied himself in the making of verses. In his Formula Missæ (1523) he expresses the wish that as many German hymns as possible be introduced into the revised service of the Mass and sung, not only by the choir, but by the whole congregation, though, for the nonce, the customary Latin hymns might be used. With his wonted energy and industry he at once entrusted the work of composing hymns to some of his Wittenberg friends, and despatched letters so as to obtain help even from afar. He was particularly anxious to see the Psalms in a German dress. His translation of the Psalter, which he had just completed, naturally drew his thoughts to the Psalms which so admirably express all the religious emotions of the soul, especially its trusting reliance upon God. He was not very confident of his own powers of composition: “I have not the knack of doing this as well as I wish to have it done,” he writes to his old friend Spalatin at Nuremberg. He asks him and his other friends for an eminently simple, popular versification of the Psalms, in pure German, “free from the new-fangled words used at Court”; it should keep as closely as possible to the sense and yet not be stilted. For this Spalatin was qualified by “a rich flow of eloquence, and by many years’ experience.” Luther sends him at the same time a poetic effort of his own.
In view of the beauty and the deep albeit simple grandeur of the olden Catholic hymns the task Luther had undertaken of composing something new was naturally not an easy one. He himself had much to say in praise of the magnificent old hymns in which the faithful praised their Creator or poured forth their griefs before Him. “In Popery,” he once said in a sermon, “they used to sing some fine hymns: ‘He who broke the might of Hell,’ item ‘Jesus Christ to-day is risen.’ This comes from the heart.” “A beautiful sequence is also sung in Advent,” he says, thus paying tribute even to a Latin hymn, viz. the Mittitur ad Virginem. “It is well done and not too barbarous.”
Luther nevertheless persevered in his own efforts in spite of his misgivings, especially as the contributions of his assistants failed to reach his standards. Of the eight hymns contained in the so-called Wittenberg “Achtliederbuch” four were composed by Luther, while of the twenty-five in the Erfurt “Enchiridion” eighteen were his; the collection, however, which he characterised as having been started by himself, the “Geistliche Gesangbüchlein” of Johann Walther, consisting chiefly of translations or adaptations, contained thirty-two hymns, twenty-four of them being written by Luther. This was the result of his efforts up to the end of 1524.
In later years only twelve other hymns were published by him, of which some, like the familiar “A safe stronghold,” and that intended in the first instance for children: “In Thy Word preserve us, Lord,” were not originally meant for use in public worship. A hymn, likewise not written for public worship, yet one of the oldest, as it dates from the summer of 1523, is the one where Luther extols the glorious martyrdom of two of his followers, who were executed in the Netherlands as heretics. Including this the number of his compositions rises to thirty-seven.
The number is not excessive considering how prolific his genius as a rule was, but among them are hymns, which, owing to their simple vigour and fine wording, bear witness to the author’s real talent for this form of literature. Thus, for instance, “From highest heaven on joyous wing,” “Ah God, look down from heaven and see,” “Dear is to me the Holy Maid” (the Church), finally and above all the hymn “A safe stronghold our God is still” (“Ein’ feste Burg”), which for ages has had so stimulating an effect on his followers. When, in these compositions, Luther shakes off the trammels of pedantry and leaves his spirit to go its own way, he often strikes the true poetic note. He was endowed with a powerful fancy, nor was there ever any lack of warmth, nay passion, in
his expression of his inward experiences; in addition to this there was his rare gift of language, his keen appreciation of music and song, which he regarded as the “very gift of God” and to which, “next to theology,” he allotted the first place; the art he possessed of making the whole congregation to share in what he himself felt, and his careful avoidance of any conscious striving after originality contributed to render many of these productions acknowledged works of genius.
Most characteristic of all in this respect is the rousing hymn “Ein’ feste Burg.” The result, as shown above, of outward circumstances as well as of inward experiences, it gives the fullest expression to Luther’s own defiance. In so far as Luther succeeded in depicting his cause as that of all his followers, and, with rare power, made his own defiant spirit ring from every lip, we may accept the opinion of a recent Luther biographer on the hymn in question, viz. that it expresses the “defiance of Protestantism.” “So entirely does Luther’s hymn spring from the feeling common to the whole of Protestantism, that we seem to hear Protestants yet unborn joining in it. The trumpets of Gustavus Adolphus and the cannon of Lützen are audible in this hymn of defiance. It reminds us of Torstensson and Coligny, of Cromwell and William of Orange.” We must, however, remember that part of the impression it creates must be attributed to the powerful pre-reformation melody to which the words are set.
We give the hymn below in Carlyle’s fine rendering:
Psalm XLVI. (XLV.)
Deus Nosier Refugium et Virtus
1. A safe stronghold our God is still,
A trusty shield and weapon.
He’ll help us clear from all the ill
That hath us now o’ertaken.
The ancient Prince of Hell
Hath risen with purpose fell,
Strong mail of Craft and Power
He weareth in this hour,
On Earth is not his fellow.
2. With force of arms we nothing can,
Full soon were we down-ridden.
But for us fights the proper Man
Whom God Himself hath bidden.
Ask ye, Who is this name?
Christ Jesus is His name,
The Lord Zebaoth’s Son,
He and no other one
Shall conquer in the battle.
3. And were this world all Devils o’er
And watching to devour us,
We lay it not to heart so sore
Not they can overpower us.
And let the Prince of Ill
Look grim, as e’er he will,
He harms us not a whit,
For why? His doom is writ,
A word shall quickly slay him.
4. God’s Word, for all their craft and force,
One moment shall not linger,
But, spite of Hell, shall have its course,
’Tis written by His finger.
And though they take our life,
Goods, honour, children, wife,
Yet is their profit small.
These things shall vanish all,
The City of God remaineth.
Though Protestants are fond of extolling the sincere faith expressed in Luther’s hymns (nay even speak of the “overwhelming fervour of his faith”) we must not forget, that in some of them bitter polemics strike a harsh and very unpoetic note, quite out of harmony with the otherwise good and pious thoughts. The “Children’s Hymn” to be sung against the two arch-enemies of Christ and His holy Church, viz. the Pope and the Turk, dating from 1541 at the latest, begins with the verse:
Lord, by Thy Word deliverance work
And stay the hand of Pope and Turk
Who Jesus Christ Thy Son
Would hurl down from His throne.
This hymn became ultimately “One of the principal hymns of the Evangelical flock.”
No less noticeable is Luther’s anti-Catholic prejudice in his “Song of the Two Martyrs of Christ at Brussels” and in the hymn “To new strains we raise our voices.” But even when the words do not sound directly controversial the substance often serves as a weapon against the old faith and was thus understood by his followers; this was the case, for instance, with the hymn just referred to on the Church. The hymns, in fact, were intended, as he says in his preface to Johann Walther’s collection, “to advance and further the Holy Gospel which by the grace of God has once more dawned.” To this end he would gladly see “all the arts, more particularly that of music, employed in the service of Him Who created them and bestowed them on us.” The more he was animated by the fighting instinct, the better he fancies he can compose. “If I am to compose, write, pray or preach well, I must be angry.” “Then my blood boils and my understanding grows keener.” His opponents complained that his popular hymns against the Church excited the people and that they “sang themselves into” the new faith.
Just as the polemics of their author detracts from the real poetic value of some of the hymns, so, in spite of all his good-will, there are other defects to decrease the value of his work. Owing to hasty workmanship his poesy has suffered. His roughness explains how “much in his work sounds harsh and clumsy.” Nevertheless the very fact that they were Luther’s own made them praiseworthy in the eyes of his olden admirers.
Owing to their hearty reception in Protestant circles, to their use both in public worship and elsewhere, and also because they served as a model and exerted a powerful influence on later Protestant efforts to promote hymnology, they won for their author the proud title of the Father of Protestant psalmody. The earliest Protestants, in their ignorance of what obtained in Catholicism previous to his day, even pushed their esteem for his labours so far as to call him simply the Father of Hymnology. “What made him the great poet of our nation,” a modern Protestant historian declares, “was his individuality and the boldness of his expression. He was not, nor did he wish to be, the Father of German psalmody, but he was in very truth the Father of Evangelical psalmody.”
When the introduction of hymns in the new form of public worship came up for discussion, Luther, owing to the exigencies of the case, showed himself by no means intolerant of the numerous hymns dating from Catholic times then still in use.
We can the more readily understand this seeing the praise he himself lavished on these hymns, the inspiring strains of which still rang in his ears from the days of his youth. It is true that not many of them appeared to him to have the “true spirit.” In his service of the Mass where this remark occurs he wished only three of these to be retained for the time being, viz. the Communion hymn, “Praised be God and blest, Who Himself becomes our Guest,” the Whitsun hymn, “Now we crave of the Holy Ghost” and the Christmas hymn, “A tender Child is born To us this very morn.” The Whitsun hymn and the Communion hymn were enlarged later, i.e. revised. He also took from an older model the first verse of another Whitsun hymn which he composed. His Easter hymn, “Christ lay in His Winding-sheet,” was a revision of the older Catholic hymn, “Jesus Christ to-day is risen,” into which he has introduced part of the Latin Easter sequence. His hymns, “In the midst of life cruel death surrounds us” and “God our Father bide with us” are also adaptations of older Catholic hymns for use in processions. In his rendering of the Ten Commandments into German verse he seems to have taken as his model a similar composition dating from earlier days and also used in processions. “Heirlooms of Catholicism” are also three old chants which he translated from the Latin, “Come, Holy Ghost, Creator, come,” “Saviour of the heathen known” and “Now praise we Christ the Holy One.”
The Middle Ages had always been noted for their renderings of the Psalms and hymns of the Church, and their productions compare favourably with Luther’s compositions, the more so since he is seldom at his best when he is not free to develop his own thoughts. Speaking of translations and alluding to those made by his colleagues Luther declared in 1529: “Some have now given proof of their ability and have increased the number of hymns; they far outstrip me and must be regarded as experts in this
field.” Many had been the poets who had turned the old Latin hymns into German; particularly worthy of mention were the monk of Salzburg in the 14th and Heinrich of Laufenberg in the 15th century. Many of these hymns can take their place beside Luther’s rendering of Psalm xlvi. (xlv.), “Ein’ feste Burg,” though the trust in God they express and the unshaken faith of their childlike language is far removed from any presumptuous reliance on private judgment in religious matters or subjective revelations. Of the use of German hymns Provost Gerhoch of Reichersberg wrote as early as the 12th century: “The whole people breaks out into praise of the Saviour in the hymns of their mother tongue; especially is this the case with the Germans whose language lends itself so well to melody.” At the close of the Middle Ages it might be said with truth: “The German nation possessed a hoard of hymns, such as no other nation in the world could show.”
It is not only Luther who frequently admits that he had “included in his hymnbook some of the songs of our forefathers” as “bearing witness to the good Christians who lived before our day,” but even the Apologia for the Confession of Augsburg had to admit in its defence of the Protestant ritual: “The use [of German hymns] has always been regarded as praiseworthy in the churches; though more German hymns are sung in some places than in others, nevertheless, in all the churches the people have always sung something in German, hence the practice is not at all novel.”
Collected Works of Martin Luther Page 837