Chronicles of the Schonberg-Cotta Family

by Elizabeth Rundle Charles

  XII.

  Else's Story.

  WITTEMBERG, _June_, 1512.

  Our Eva seems happy at the convent. She has taken the vows, and is nowfinally Sister Ave. She has also sent us some eye-water for the father.But in spite of all we can do his sight seems failing.

  In some way or other I think my father's loss of sight has broughtblessing to the family.

  Our grandmother, who is very feeble now, and seldom leaves her chair bythe stove, has become much more tolerant of his schemes since there isno chance of their being carried out, and listens with remarkablepatience to his statements of the wonders he would have achieved had hissight only been continued a few years.

  Nor does the father himself seem as much dejected as one would haveexpected.

  When I was comforting him to-day by saying how much less anxious ourmother looks, he replied,--

  "Yes, my child, the praeter pluperfect subjunctive is a more comfortabletense to live in than the future subjunctive, for any length of time."

  I looked perplexed, and he explained, "It is easier, when once one hasmade up one's mind to it, to say, 'Had I had this I might have donethat,' than, 'If I can have this I shall do that,'--at least it iseasier to the anxious and excitable feminine mind."

  "But to you, father?"

  "To me it is a consolation at last to be appreciated. Even yourgrandmother understands at length how great the results would have beenif I could only have had eye-sight to perfect that last invention forusing steam to draw water."

  Our grandmother must certainly have put great restraint on her usuallyfrank expression of opinion, if she has led our father to believe shehad any confidence in that last scheme; for, I must confess, that of allour father's inventions and discoveries, the whole family consider thisidea about the steam the wildest and most impracticable of all. Thesecret of perpetual motion might, no doubt, be discovered, and a clockbe constructed which would never need winding up,--I see no greatdifficulty in that. It might be quite possible to transmute lead intogold, or iron into silver, if one could find exactly the rightproportions. My father has explained all that to me quite clearly. Theelixir which would prolong life indefinitely seems to me a little moredifficult; but this notion of pumping up water by means of the steamwhich issues from boiling water and disperses in an instant, we allagree in thinking quite visionary, and out of the question; so that itis, perhaps, as well our poor father should not have thrown away anymore expense or time on it. Besides, we had already had two or threeexplosions from his experiments; and some of the neighbours werebeginning to say very unpleasant things about the black art, andwitchcraft; so that on the whole, no doubt, it is all for the best.

  I would not, however, for the world, have hinted this to him; thereforeI only replied, evasively,--

  "Our grandmother has indeed been much gentler and more placid lately."

  "It is not only that," he rejoined; "she has an intelligence farsuperior to that of most women,--she comprehends. And then," hecontinued, "I am not without hopes that that young nobleman, Ulrich vonGersdorf, who comes here so frequently and asks about Eva, may one daycarry out my schemes. He and Chriemhild begin to enter into the ideaquite intelligently. Besides, there is Master Reichenbach, the richmerchant to whom your Aunt Cotta introduced us; he has money enough tocarry things out in the best style. He certainly does not promise much,but he is an intelligent listener, and that is a great step. GottfriedReichenbach is an enlightened man for a merchant, although he is,perhaps, rather slow in comprehension, and a little over-cautious."

  "He is not over-cautious in his alms, father," I said; "at least Dr.Martin Luther says so."

  "Perhaps not," he said. "On the whole, certainly, the citizens ofWittemberg are very superior to those of Eisenach, who were incredulousand dull to the last degree. It will be a great thing if Reichenbach andVon Gersdorf take up this invention. Reichenbach can introduce it atonce among the patrician families of the great cities with whom he isconnected, and Von Gersdorf would promote it among his kindred knights.It would not, indeed, be such an advantage to our family as if Polluxand Christopher, or our poor Fritz, had carried it out. But never mind,Else, my child, we were children of Adam before we were Cottas. We mustthink not only of the family, but of the world."

  Master Reichenbach, indeed, may take a genuine interest in my father'splans, but I have suspicions of Ulrich von Gersdorf. He seems to me farmore interested in Chriemhild's embroidery than in our father'ssteam-pump; and although he continues to talk of Eva as if he thoughther an angel, he certainly sometimes looks at Chriemhild as if hethought her a creature as interesting.

  I do not like such transitions; and, besides, his conversation is sovery different, in my opinion, from Master Reichenbach's. Ulrich vonGersdorf has no experience of life beyond a boar-hunt, a combat withsome rival knights, or a foray on some defenceless merchants. His lifehas been passed in the castle of an uncle of his in the Thuringianforest; yet I cannot wonder that Chriemhild listens, with a glow ofinterest on her face, as she sits with her eyes bent on her embroidery,to his stories of ambushes and daring surprises. But to me this lifeseems rude and lawless. Ulrich's uncle was unmarried; and they had noladies in the castle except a widowed aunt of Ulrich's, who seems to beas proud as Lucifer, and especially to pride herself on being able towear pearls and velvet, which no burgher's wife may appear in.

  Ulrich's mother died early. I fancy she was gentler and of a truernobleness. He says the only book they have in the castle is an oldilluminated Missal which belonged to her. He has another aunt, Beatrice,who is in the convent at Nimptschen with our Eva. They sent her there toprevent her marrying the son of a family with whom they had a hereditaryfeud. I begin to feel, as Fritz used to say, that the life of thesepetty nobles is not nearly so noble as that of the burghers. They seemto know nothing of the world beyond the little district they rule byterror. They have no honest way of maintaining themselves, but live bythe hard toil of their poor oppressed peasants, and by the plunder oftheir enemies.

  Herr Reichenbach, on the other hand, is connected with the patricianfamilies in the great city of Nuernberg; and although he does not talkmuch, he has histories to tell of painters and poets, and great eventsin the broad field of the world. Ah, I wish he had known Fritz! He likesto hear me talk of him.

  And then, moreover, Herr Reichenbach has much to tell me about BrotherMartin Luther, who is at the head of the Eremite or Augustine Conventhere, and seems to me to be the great man of Wittemberg; at least peopleappear to like him or dislike him more than any one else here.

  _October_ 19, 1512.

  This has been a great day at Wittemberg. Friar Martin Luther has beencreated Doctor of Divinity. Master Reichenbach procured us excellentplaces, and we saw the degree conferred on him by Dr. Andrew Bodensteinof Carlstadt.

  The great bell of the city churches, which only sounds on greatoccasions, pealed as if for a Church festival; all the universityauthorities marched in procession through the streets; and after takingthe vow, Friar Martin was solemnly invested with the doctor's robes,hat, and ring--a massive gold ring presented to him by the Elector.

  But the part which impressed me most was the oath, which Dr. Lutherpronounced most solemnly, so that the words, in his fine clear voice,rang through the silence. He repeated it after Dr. Bodenstein, who iscommonly called Carlstadt. The words in Latin, Herr Reichenbach says,were these (he wrote them for me to send to Eva),--

  "Juro me veritatem evangelicam viriliter defensurum;" which HerrReichenbach translated, "_I swear vigorously to defend evangelicaltruth._"

  This oath is only required at one other university besideWittemberg--that of Tuebingen. Dr. Luther swore it as if he were a knightof olden times, vowing to risk life and limb in some sacred cause. Tome, who not could understand the words, his manner was more that of awarrior swearing on his sword, than of a doctor of divinity.

  And Master Reichenbach says, "
What he has promised he will do!"

  Chriemhild laughs at Master Reichenbach, because he has entered his nameon the list of university students, in order to attend Dr. Luther'slectures.

  "With his grave old face, and his grey hair," she says, "to sit amongthose noisy student boys!"

  But I can see nothing laughable in it. I think it is a sign of somethingnoble, for a man in the prime of life to be content to learn as a littlechild. And besides, whatever Chriemhild may say, if Herr Reichenbach isa little bald, and has a few grey hairs, it is not on account of age.Grown men, who think and feel, in these stormy times, cannot be expectedto have smooth faces and full curly locks, like Ulrich von Gersdorf.

  I am sure if I were a man twice as old as he is, there is nothing Ishould like better than to attend Dr. Luther's lectures. I have heardhim preach once in the City Church, and it was quite different from anyother sermon I ever heard. He spoke of God and Christ, and heaven andhell, with as much conviction and simplicity as if he had been pleadingsome cause of human wrong, or relating some great events which happenedon earth yesterday, instead of reciting it like a piece of Latingrammar, as so many of the monks do.

  I began almost to feel as if I might at last find a religion that woulddo for me. Even Christopher was attentive. He said Dr. Luther calledeverything by such plain names, one could not help understanding.

  We have seen him once at our house. He was so respectful to ourgrandmother, and so patient with my father, and he spoke so kindly ofFritz.

  Fritz has written to us, and has recommended us to take Dr. MartinLuther for our family confessor. He says he can never repay the good Dr.Luther has done to him. And certainly he writes more brightly andhopefully than he ever has since he left us, although he has, alas!finally taken those dreadful, irrevocable vows.

  _March_, 1513.

  Dr. Luther has consented to be our confessor; and thank God I do believeat last I have found the religion which may make me, even me, love God.Dr. Luther says I have entirely misunderstood God and the Lord JesusChrist. He seemed to understand all I have been longing for andperplexing myself about all my life, with a glance. When I began tofalter out my confessions and difficulties to him, he seemed to see themall spread before him, and explained them all to me. He says I have beenthinking of God as a severe judge, an exactor, a harsh creditor, when heis a rich Giver, a forgiving Saviour, yea, the very fountain ofinexpressible love.

  "God's love," he said, "gives in such a way that it flows from aFather's heart, the well-spring of all good. The heart of the givermakes the gift dear and precious; as among ourselves we say of even atrifling gift, 'It comes from a hand we love,' and look not so much atthe gift as at the heart."

  "If we will only consider him in his works, we shall learn that God isnothing else but pure, unutterable love, greater and more than any onecan think. The shameful thing is, that the world does not regard this,nor thank him for it, although every day it sees before it suchcountless benefits from him; and it deserves for its ingratitude thatthe sun should not shine another moment longer, nor the grass grow; yetHe ceases not, without a moment's interval, to love us, and to do usgood. Language must fail me to speak of his spiritual gifts. Here hepours forth for us, not sun and moon, nor heaven and earth, but his ownheart, his beloved Son, so that He suffered His blood to be shed, andthe most shameful death to be inflicted on Him, for us wretched, wicked,thankless creatures. How, then, can we say anything but that God is anabyss of endless, unfathomable love?"

  "The whole Bible," he says, "is full of this,--that we should not doubt,but be absolutely certain, that God is merciful, gracious, patient,faithful, and true; who not only will keep his promises, but already haskept and done abundantly beyond what he promised, since he has given hisown Son for our sins on the cross, that all who believe on Him shouldnot perish, but have everlasting life."

  "Whoever believes and embraces this," he added, "that God has given hisonly Son to die for us poor sinners, to him it is no longer any doubt,but the most certain truth, that God reconciles us to himself, and isfavourable and heartily gracious to us."

  "Since the gospel shows us Christ the Son of God, who, according to thewill of the Father, has offered himself up for us, and has satisfied forsin, the heart can no more doubt God's goodness and grace,--is no moreaffrighted, nor flies from God, but sets all its hope in his goodnessand mercy."

  "The apostles are always exhorting us," he says, "to continue in thelove of God,--that is, that each one should entirely conclude in hisheart that he is loved by God; and they set before our eyes a certainproof of it, in that God has not spared his Son, but given him for theworld, that through His death the world might again have life.

  "It is God's honour and glory to give liberally. His nature is all purelove; so that if any one would describe or picture God, he must describeOne who is pure love, the divine nature being nothing else than afurnace and glow of such love that it fills heaven and earth.

  "Love is an image of God, and not a dead image, nor one painted onpaper, but the living essence of the divine nature, which burns full ofall goodness.

  "He is not harsh, as we are to those who have injured us. We withdrawour hand and close our purse, but he is kind to the unthankful and theevil.

  "He sees thee in thy poverty and wretchedness, and knows thou hastnothing to pay. Therefore he freely forgives, and gives thee all."

  "It is not to be borne," he said, "that Christian people should say, Wecannot know whether God is favourable to us or not. On the contrary, weshould learn to say, I know that I believe in Christ, and therefore thatGod is my gracious Father."

  "What is the reason that God gives?" he said, one day. "What moves himto it? Nothing but unutterable love, because he delights to give and tobless. What does he give? Not empires merely, not a world full of silverand gold, not heaven and earth only, but his Son, who is as great ashimself,--that is, eternal and incomprehensible; a gift as infinite asthe Giver, the very spring and fountain of all grace; yea, thepossession and property of all the riches and treasures of God."

  Dr. Luther said also, that the best name by which we can think of God isFather. "It is a loving, sweet, deep, heart-touching name; for the nameof father is in its nature full of inborn sweetness and comfort.Therefore, also, we must confess ourselves children of God; for by thisname we deeply touch our God, since there is not a sweeter sound to thefather, than the voice of the child."

  All this is wonderful to me. I scarcely dare to open my hand, and takethis belief home to my heart.

  Is it then, indeed, thus we must think of God? Is he, indeed, as Dr.Luther says, ready to listen to our feeblest cry, ready to forgive us,and to help us?

  And if he is indeed like this, and cares what we think of him, how Imust have grieved him all these years!

  Not a moment longer! I will not distrust Thee a moment longer. See,heavenly Father, I have come back!

  Can it, indeed, be possible that God is pleased when we trusthim,--pleased when we pray, simply because he loves us?

  Can it indeed be true, as Dr. Luther says, that love is our greatestvirtue; and that we please God best by being kind to each other, justbecause that is what is most like him?

  I am sure it is true. It is so good, it must be true.

  Then it is possible for me, even for me, to love God. How is it possiblefor me _not_ to love him? And it is possible for me, even for me, to bereligious, if to be religious is to love God, and to do whatever we canto make those around us happy.

  But if this is indeed religion, it is happiness, it is freedom,--it islife!

  Why, then, are so many of the religious people I know of a sadcountenance, as if they were bond-servants toiling for a hard master?

  I must ask Dr. Luther.

  _April_, 1513.

  I have asked Dr. Luther, and he says it is because the devil makes agreat deal of the religion we see; that he pretends to be Christ, andcomes and te
rrifies people, and scourges them with the remembrance oftheir sins, and tells them they must not dare to lift up their eyes toheaven, because God is so holy, and they are so sinful. But it is allbecause he knows that if they _would_ lift their eyes to heaven, theirterrors would vanish, and they would see Christ there, not as the Judge,and the hard, exacting Creditor, but as the pitiful, loving Saviour.

  I find it a great comfort to believe in this way in the devil. Has henot been trying to teach me his religion all my life? And now I havefound him out! He has been telling me lies, not about myself (Dr. Luthersays he cannot paint us more sinful than we are), but lies about God. Ithelps me almost as much to hear Dr. Luther speak about the devil asabout God--"the malignant, sad spirit," he says, "who loves to makeevery one sad."

  With God's help, I will never believe him again. But Dr. Luther said Ishall, often; that he will come again and malign God, and assail mypeace in so many ways, that it will be long before I learn to know him.

  I shuddered when he told me this; but then he reassured me, by tellingme a beautiful story, which, he said, was from the Bible. It was about aGood Shepherd and silly, wandering sheep, and a wolf who sought todevour them. "All the care of the Shepherd," he said, "is in thetenderest way to attract the sheep to keep close to him; and when theywander, he goes and seeks them, takes them on his shoulder, and carriesthem safe home. All our wisdom," he says, "is to keep always near thisGood Shepherd, who is Christ, and to listen to his voice."

  I know the Lord Jesus Christ is called the Good Shepherd. I have seenthe picture of him carrying the lamb on his shoulder. But until Dr.Luther explained it to me, I thought it meant that he was the Lord andOwner of all the world, who are his flock. But I never thought that hecared for _me_ as his sheep, sought me, called me, watched me, even me,day by day.

  Other people, no doubt, have understood all this before. And yet, if so,why do not the monks preach of it? Why should Aunt Agnes serve Him inthe convent by penances and self-tormentings, instead of serving Him inthe world by being kind and helping all around? Why should our dear,gentle mother, have such sad, self-reproachful thoughts, and feel as ifshe and our family were under a curse?

  Dr. Luther said that Christ was "made a curse for us;" that he, theunspotted and undefiled Lamb of God, bore the curse for us on the cross;and that we, believing in him, are not under the curse, but under theblessing--that we are blessed.

  This, then, is what the crucifix and the _Agnus Dei_ mean.

  Doubtless many around me have understood all this long ago. I am sure,at least, that our Eva understood it.

  But what inexpressible joy for me, as I sit at my embroidery in thegarden, to look up through the apple-blossoms and the fluttering leaves,and to see God's love there;--to listen to the thrush that has built hisnest among them, and feel God's love, who cares for the birds, in everynote that swells his little throat;--to look beyond to the bright bluedepths of the sky, and feel they are a canopy of blessing--the roof ofthe house of my Father; that if clouds pass over, it is the unchangeablelight they veil; that, even when the day itself passes, I shall see thatthe night itself only unveils new worlds of light; and to know that if Icould unwrap fold after fold of God's universe, I should only unfoldmore and more blessing, and see deeper and deeper into the love which isat the heart of all!

  And then what joy again to turn to my embroidery, and, as my fingersbusily ply the needle, to think--

  "This is to help my father and mother; this, even this, is a little workof love. And as I sit and stitch, God is pleased with me, and with whatI am doing. He gives me this to do, as much as he gives the priests topray, and Dr. Luther to preach. I am serving Him, and he is near me inmy little corner of the world, and is pleased with me--even with me!"

  Oh, Fritz and Eva! if you had both known this, need you have left us togo and serve God so far away?

  Have I indeed, like St. Christopher, found my bank of the river, where Ican serve my Saviour by helping all the pilgrims I can?

  Better, better than St. Christopher; for do I not _know the voice_ thatcalls to me--

  "Else! Else! do this for me?"

  And now I do not feel at all afraid to grow old, which is a greatrelief, as I am already six-and-twenty, and the children think me nearlyas old as our mother. For what is growing old, if Dr. Martin Luther isindeed right (and I am sure he is), but growing daily nearer God, andHis holy, happy home! Dr. Luther says our Saviour called heaven hisFather's house.

  Not that I wish to leave this world. While God wills we should stayhere, and is with us, is it not home-like enough for us?

  _May_, 1513.

  This morning I was busy making a favourite pudding of the father's, whenI heard Herr Reichenbach's voice at the door. He went into the dwellingroom, and soon afterwards Chriemhild, Atlantis, and Thekla, invaded thekitchen.

  "Herr Reichenbach wishes to have a consultation," said Chriemhild, "andwe are sent away."

  I felt anxious for a moment. It seemed like the old Eisenach days; butsince we have been at Wittemberg we have never gone into debt; so that,after thinking a little, I was reassured. The children were full ofspeculations what it would be about. Chriemhild thought it was someaffair of state, because she had seen him in close confabulation withUlrich von Gersdorf as he came up the street, and they had probably beendiscussing some question about the privileges of the nobles andburghers.

  Atlantis believed it had something to do with Dr. Martin Luther, becauseHerr Reichenbach had presented the mother with a new pamphlet of theDoctor's on entering the room.

  Thekla was sure it was at last the opportunity to make use of one of thefather's discoveries,--whether the perpetual clock, or the transmutationof metals, or the steam-pump, she could not tell; but she was persuadedthat it was something which was to make our fortunes at last, becauseHerr Reichenbach looked so very much in earnest, and was so veryrespectful to our father.

  They had not much time to discuss their various theories when we heardHerr Reichenbach's step pass hurriedly through the passage, and the doorclosed hastily after him.

  "Do you call that a consultation?" said Chriemhild, scornfully; "he hasnot been here ten minutes."

  The next instant our mother appeared, looking very pale, and with hervoice trembling as she said,--

  "Else, my child, we want you."

  "You are to know first, Else," said the children. "Well, it is onlyfair; you are a dear good eldest sister, and will be sure to tell us."

  I scarcely knew why, but my fingers did not seem as much under controlas usual, and it was some moments before I could put the finishingstroke to my pudding, wash my hands, pull down the white sleeves to mywrists, and join them in the dwelling room, so that my mother reappearedwith an impatience very unusual for her, and led me in herself.

  "Else, darling, come here," said my father. And when he felt my hands inhis, he added, "Herr Reichenbach left a message for thee. Other parentsoften decide these matters for their children, but thy mother and I wishto leave the matter to thee.--Couldst thou be his wife?"

  The question took me by surprise, and I could only say,--

  "Can it be possible he thinks of me?"

  "I see nothing impossible in that, my Else," said my father; "but at allevents Herr Reichenbach has placed that beyond a doubt. The question nowis whether our Else can think of him."

  I could not say anything.

  "Think well before you reject him," said my father; "he is a good andgenerous man, he desires no portion with thee; he says thou wouldst be aportion for a king; and I must say he is very intelligent andwell-informed, and can appreciate scientific inventions as few men inthese days can."

  "I do not wish him to be dismissed," I faltered.

  But my tender-hearted mother said, laying my head on her shoulder,--

  "Yet think well, darling, before you accept him. We are not poor now,and we need no stranger's wealth to make us happy. Heaven forbid thatour child should sacrifice herself for us. He
rr Reichenbach, is, nodoubt, a good and wise man, but I know well a young maiden's fancy. Heis little, I know--not tall and stalwart, like our Fritz andChristopher; and he is a little bald, and he is not very young, andrather grave and silent, and young girls--"

  "But, mother," I said, "I am not a young girl, I am six-and-twenty; andI do not think Herr Reichenbach old, and I never noticed that he wasbald, and I am sure to me he is not silent."

  "That will do, Else," said the grandmother, laughing from her corner bythe stove. "Son and daughter, let these two settle it together. Theywill arrange matters better than we shall for them."

  And in the evening Herr Reichenbach came again, and everything wasarranged.

  "And that is what the consultation was about!" said the children, notwithout some disappointment. "It seems such an ordinary thing," saidAtlantis, "we are so used to seeing Herr Reichenbach. He comes almostevery day."

  "I do not see that that is any objection," said Chriemhild; "but it seemshardly like being married, only just to cross the street. His house isjust opposite."

  "But it is a great deal prettier than ours," said Thekla. "I like HerrReichenbach; no one ever took such an interest in my drawings as hedoes. He tells me where they are wrong, and shows me how to make themright, as if he really felt it of some consequence; which it is, youknow, Else, because one day I mean to embroider and help the family,like you. And no one was ever so kind to Nix as he is. He took the dogon his knee the other day, and drew out a splinter which had lamed him,which Nix would not let any one else do but me. Nix is very fond of HerrReichenbach, and so am I. He is much wiser, I think, than Ulrich, whoteases Nix, and pretends never to know my cats from my cows; and I donot see that he is much older; besides, I could not bear our Else tolive a step further off."

  And Thekla climbed up on my lap and kissed me, while Nix stood on hishind legs and barked, evidently thinking it was a great occasion. Sothat two of the family at least have given their consent.

  But none of the family know yet what Herr Reichenbach said to me when westood for a few minutes by the window, before he left this evening. Hesaid--

  "Else, it is God who gives me this joy. Ever since the evening when youall arrived at Wittemberg, and I saw you tenderly helping the aged anddirecting the young ones, and never flurried in all the bustle, butalways at leisure to thank any one for any little kindness, or to helpany one out of any little difficulty, I thought you were the light ofthis home, and I prayed God one day to make you the light of mine."

  Ah! that shows how love veils people's faults; but he did not knowFritz, and not much of Eva. They were the true sunshine of our home.However, at all events, with God's help, I will do my very best to makeHerr Reichenbach's home bright.

  But the best of all is, I am not afraid to accept this blessing. Ibelieve it is God, out of his inexpressible love, as Dr. Luther says,who has given it me, and I am not afraid He will think me too happy.

  Before I had Dr. Luther for my confessor, I should never have known ifit was to be a blessing or a curse; but now I am not afraid. A chainseems to have dropped from my heart, and a veil from my eyes, and I cancall God Father, and take everything fearlessly from him.

  And I know Gottfried feels the same. Since I never had a vocation forthe higher religious life, it is an especial mercy for me to have founda religion which enables a very poor every-day maiden in the world tolove God and to seek his blessing.

  _June._

  Our mother has been full of little tender apologies to me this week, forhaving called Gottfried (Herr Reichenbach says I am to call him so) old,and bald, and little, and grave.

  "You know, darling, I only meant I did not want you to accept him forour sakes. And after all, as you say, he is scarcely bald; and they sayall men who think much lose their hair early; and I am sure it is noadvantage to be always talking; and every one cannot be as tall as ourFritz and Christopher."

  "And after all, dear mother," said the grandmother, "Else did _not_choose Herr Reichenbach for your sakes; but are you quite sure he didnot choose Else for her father's sake? He was always so interested inthe steam-pump!"

  My mother and I are much cheered by seeing the quiet influence HerrReichenbach seems to have over Christopher, whose companions and latehours have often caused us anxiety lately. Christopher is notdistrustful of him, because he is no priest, and no great favourer ofmonks and convents; and he is not so much afraid about Christopher as wetimid, anxious women were beginning to be. He thinks there is good metalin him; and he says the best ore cannot look like gold until it isfused. It is so difficult for us women, who have to watch from our quiethomes afar, to distinguish the glow of the smelting furnace from theglare of a conflagration.

  WITTEMBERG, _September_, 1513.

  This morning, Herr Reichenbach, Christopher, and Ulrich von Gersdorf(who is studying here for a time) came in full of excitement, from adiscussion they had been hearing between Dr. Luther and some of thedoctors and professors of Erfurt.

  I do not know that I quite clearly understand what it was about; butthey seemed to think it of great importance.

  Our house has become rather a gathering place of late; partly, I think,on account of my father's blindness, which always insures that therewill be some one at home.

  It seems that Dr. Luther attacks the old methods of teaching in theuniversities, which makes the older professors look on him as adangerous innovator, while the young delight in him as a hero fightingtheir battles. And yet the authorities Dr. Luther wishes to re-instateare older than those he attacks. He demands that nothing shall bereceived as the standard of theological truth except the HolyScriptures. I cannot understand why there should be so much conflictabout this, because I thought all we believed was founded on the HolyScriptures. I suppose it is not; but if not, on whose authority? I mustask Gottfried this one day when we are alone.

  The discussion to-day was between Dr. Andrew Bodenstein, Archdeacon ofWittemberg, Dr. Luther, and Dr. Jodocus of Eisenach, called Trutvetter,his old teacher. Dr. Carlstadt himself, they said, seemed quiteconvinced; and Dr. Jodocus is silenced and is going back to Erfurt.

  The enthusiasm of the students is great. The great point of Dr. Luther'sattack seems to be Aristotle, who was a heathen Greek. I cannot thinkwhy these Church doctors should be so eager to defend him; but HerrReichenbach says all the teaching of the schools and all the doctrine ofindulgences are in some way founded on this Aristotle, and that Dr.Luther wants to clear away everything which stands as a screen betweenthe students and the Bible.

  Ulrich von Gersdorf said that our doctor debates like his uncle, Franzvon Sickingen, fights. He stands like a rock on some point he feels firmon; and then, when his opponents are weary of trying to move him, herushes suddenly down on them, and sweeps them away like a torrent.

  "But his great secret seems to be," remarked Christopher, "that hebelieves every word he says. He speaks, like other men work, as if everystroke were to tell."

  And Gottfried said, quietly, "He is fighting the battle of God with thescribes and Pharisees of our days; and whether he triumph or perish, thebattle will be won. It is a battle, not merely against falsehood, butfor truth, to keep a position he has won."

  "When I hear him," said Ulrich, "I wish my student days over, and longto be in the old castle in the Thuringian Forest, to give everythinggood there a new impulse. He makes me feel the way to fight the world'sgreat battles is for each to conquer the enemies of God in his own heartand home. He speaks of Aristotle and Augustine; but he makes me think ofthe sloth and tyranny in the castle, and the misery and oppression inthe peasant's hut, which are to me what Aristotle and the schoolmen areto him."

  "And I," said Christopher, "when he speaks, think of our printing press,until my daily toil there seems the highest work I could do; and to be aprinter, and wing such words as his through the world, the noblest thingon earth."

  "But his lectures fight the good fight even m
ore than his disputations,"remarked Gottfried. "In these debates he clears the world of the foe;but in his explanations of the Psalms and the Romans, he carries thebattle within, and clears the heart of the lies which kept it back fromGod. In his attacks on Aristotle, he leads you to the Bible as the onesource of truth; in his discourses on justification by faith he leadsyou to God as the one source of holiness and joy."

  "They say poor Dr. Jodocus is quite ill with vexation at his defeat,"said Christopher; "and that there are many bitter things said againstDr. Luther at Erfurt."

  "What does that matter," rejoined Ulrich, "since Wittemberg is becomingevery month more thronged with students from all parts of Germany, andthe Augustinian cloister is already full of young monks, sent hitherfrom various convents, to study under Dr. Luther? The youth and vigourof the nation are with us. Let the dead bury their dead."

  "Ah, children," murmured the grandmother, looking up from her knitting,"that is a funeral procession that lasts long. The young always speak ofthe old as if they had been born old. Do you think our hearts neverthrobbed high with hope, and that we never fought with dragons? Yet theold serpent is not killed yet. Nor will he be dead when we are dead, andyou are old, and your grandchildren take their place in the old fight,and think they are fighting the first battle the world has seen, andvanquishing the last enemy."

  "Perhaps not," said Gottfried; "but the last enemy will be overcome atlast, and who knows how soon?"

  WITTEMBERG, _October_, 1513.

  It is a strong bond of union between Herr Reichenbach and me, ourreverence and love for Dr. Luther.

  He is lecturing now on the Romans and the Psalms, and as I sit at myspinning-wheel, or sew, Gottfried often reads to me notes from theselectures, or tells me what they have been about. This is a comfort to mealso, because he has many thoughts and doubts which, were it not for hisfriendship with Dr. Luther, would make me tremble for him. They are sonew and strange to me; and as it is I never venture to speak of them tomy mother.

  He thinks there is great need of reformations and changes in the Church.He even thinks Christopher not far from right in his dislike of many ofthe priests and monks, who, he says, lead lives which are a disgrace toChristendom.

  But his chief detestation is the sale of indulgences, now preached inmany of the towns of Saxony by Dr. Tetzel. He says it is a shamelesstraffic in lies, and that most men of intelligence and standing in thegreat cities think so. And he tells me that a very good man, a professorof theology--Dr. John Wesel,--preached openly against them about fiftyyears ago at the University of Erfurt, and afterwards at Worms andMainz; and that John of Goch and other holy men were most earnest indenouncing them.

  And when I asked if the Pope did not sanction them, he said that tounderstand what the Pope is one needs to go to Rome. He went there inhis youth, not on pilgrimage, but on mercantile business, and he told methat the wickedness he saw there, especially in the family of thereigning Pope, the Borgia, for many years made him hate the very name ofreligion. Indeed, he said it was principally through Dr. Luther that hehad begun again to feel there could be a religion, which, instead ofbeing a cloak for sin, should be an incentive to holiness.

  He says also that I have been quite mistaken about "Reineke Fuchs;" thatit is no vulgar jest-book, mocking at really sacred things, but abitter, earnest satire against the hypocrisy which practices all kindsof sin in the name of sacred things.

  He doubts even if the Calixtines and Hussites are as bad as they havebeen represented to be. It alarms me sometimes to hear him say thesethings. His world is so much larger than mine, it is difficult for mythoughts to follow him into it. If the world is so bad, and there is somuch hypocrisy in the holiest places, perhaps I have been hard on poorChristopher after all.

  But if Fritz has found it so, how unhappy it must make him!

  Can really religious people like Fritz and Eva do nothing better for theworld, but leave it to grow more and more corrupt and unbelieving, whilethey sit apart to weave their robes of sanctity in convents. It doesseem time for something to be done. I wonder who will do it?

  I thought it might be the Pope; but Gottfried shakes his head, and says,"No good thing can begin at Rome."

  "Or the prelates?" I asked one day.

  "They are too intent," he said, "on making their courts as magnificentas those of the princes, to be able to interfere with the abuses bywhich their revenues are maintained."

  "Or the princes?"

  "The friendship of the prelates is too important to them, for them tointerfere in spiritual matters."

  "Or the emperor?"

  "The emperor," he said, "has enough to do to hold his own against theprinces, the prelates, and the pope."

  "Or the knights?"

  "The knights are at war with the all world," he replied; "to say nothingof their ceaseless private feuds with each other. With the peasantsrising on one side in wild insurrection, the great nobles contendingagainst their privileges on the other, and the great burgher familiesthrowing their barbarous splendour into the shade as much as the citypalaces do their bare robber castles, the knights and petty nobles havelittle but bitter words to spare for the abuses of the clergy. Besides,most of them have relations whom they hope to provide for with some goodabbey."

  "Then the peasants!" I suggested. "Did not the gospel first take rootamong peasants?"

  "_Inspired_ peasants and fishermen!" he replied, thoughtfully. "Peasantswho had walked up and down the land three years in the presence of theMaster. But who is to teach our peasants now? They cannot read!"

  "Then it must be the burghers," I said.

  "Each may be prejudiced in favour of his order," he replied, with asmile; "but I do think if better days dawn, it will be through thecities. There the new learning takes root; there the rich have societyand cultivation, and the poor have teachers; and men's minds arebrightened by contact and debate, and there is leisure to think andfreedom to speak. If a reformation of abuses were to begin, I think theburghers would promote it most of all."

  "But who is to begin it?" I asked. "Has no one ever tried?"

  "Many have tried," he replied sadly; "and many have perished in trying.While they were assailing one abuse, others were increasing. Or whilethey endeavoured to heal some open wound, some one arose and declaredthat it was impossible to separate the disease from the whole frame, andthat they were attempting the life of our Holy Mother the Church."

  "Who, then, will venture to begin?" I said. "Can it be Dr. Luther? He isbold enough to venture anything; and since he has done so much good toFritz, and to you, and to me, why not to the whole Church?"

  "Dr. Luther is faithful enough, and bold enough for anything hisconscience calls him to," said Gottfried, "but he is occupied withsaving men's souls, not with reforming ecclesiastical abuses."

  "But if the ecclesiastical abuses came to interfere with the salvationof men's souls," I suggested, "what would Dr. Luther do then?"

  "We should see, Else," said Gottfried. "If the wolves attacked one ofDr. Luther's sheep, I do not think he would care with what weapon herescued it, or at what risk."