LUTHER'S confinement in the castle of the Wartburg placed Melancthon at the head of the Reformed cause, and perhaps no man ever felt more the responsibility of his position. At first he was sunk in affliction at the loss of his leader and friend, and in a letter written at a somewhat later date, referring to the period of this captivity, he says: "I feel the need I have of good advice. Our Elijah is still confined at a distance from us.... His absence absolutely torments me.”
But presently the consternation and anxiety of Luther's friends at Wittemberg was lightened. The Reformer was alive; such was the report that reached them. Melancthon's sorrow was turned to joy. "Our beloved father lives," he exclaimed; "take courage and be firm." But his depression returned when further intelligence arrived of Luther's imprisonment.
Constitutionally Melancthon was subject to be easily cast down, and the state of affairs at this time was such as to cause much despondency. The transactions at Worms and the subsequent concealment of Luther had inspired the Elector Frederick with an unusual degree of caution. Luther's writings were not allowed to be published, and the members of the university were interdicted from discussing questions likely to give offense to persons of distinction attached to the Papacy. Luther, in his fortress, chafed at his confinement, and wished again to be in the thick of the fray. Alas! "said he," there is nothing I desire more than to appear before my cruelest enemies. "He deeply sympathized with Melancthon in his depression and solicitude, and at length managed to convey a letter to him. In this he wrote: “If I perish the Gospel will lose nothing; you will succeed me as Elisha did Elijah, with a double portion of my spirit." Then remembering Philip's timidity he exclaimed with energy: "Minister of the Word Keep the wall and towers of Jerusalem until you are struck down by the enemy. As yet we stand alone upon the field of battle; after me they will aim blows at you.”
Mental anxiety on behalf of the cause and the continued confinement affected the Reformer's health, and his friends at Wittemberg and the elector's court became uneasy and alarmed at his state of suffering. "I fear," said Melancthon, "that the grief he feels for the Church will cause his death. A fire has been kindled by him in Israel; if he dies, what hope will remain for us? Would to God that at the cost of my own wretched life, I could retain in the world that soul which is its fairest ornament! Oh! what a man! we never appreciated him rightly.”
While in the Wartburg, Luther occupied his time in reading the Bible in Hebrew and Greek, in replying to the attacks of his opponents, and especially in the translation of the Scriptures into German; a work which it would have been difficult for him to have undertaken amid the cares and occupations of Wittemberg. This work was to establish the new building on the primitive rock, and after the lapse of many ages to lead Christians back from the subtleties of the schoolmen to the pure fountain head of truth.
But at length his sojourn in the Wartburg became insupportable, and Luther determined at all hazards to see his friends at Wittemberg again. A secret visit was arranged; and at the end of November, 1521, he quietly quitted the Wartburg, clad in his garb of a military knight, and repaired to Wittemberg. He safely reached Amsdorff's house, when his friends were immediately and secretly called together, Melancthon being one of the first to arrive. The captive of the Wartburg spent a brief but happy time in the midst of his friends. He learned of the spread of the Reformation, of the hopes of the brethren; and, delighted at what he saw and heard, offered up a prayer of thanksgiving, and then, without delay, returned to his fortress asylum.
In this same year the Sorbonne—the famous school of theology at Paris and first authority of the Church next to the pope—had published a formal condemnation of Luther's writings, dated April 15th, 1521, and given its verdict against the Reformation. In some of his propositions Luther had said: "God ever pardons and remits sins gratuitously, and requires nothing of us in return except that in future we should live according to righteousness." And "of all deadly sins, this is the most deadly, namely, that any one should think he is not guilty of a damnable and deadly sin before God." And further Luther had added: "Burning heretics is contrary to the will of the Holy Ghost." To these propositions of the Reformer, and many others, the Sorbonne replied, "Heresy! Let him be accursed.”
Melancthon, then a young man of twenty-four, took up the gauntlet which the first college in the world had thrown down. He stood forward on behalf of the truth and in defense of his friend, and in reply to the condemnation of the Parisian divines, published An Apology for Luther, in opposition to the furious decree of the Parisian Theologasters. In this pamphlet he did not confine himself to simply defending Luther or his propositions, but boldly carried the war into the enemy's camp: "You say he is a Manichæan! he is a Montanist! —let fire and fagot repress his foolishness! And who is Montanist? Luther, who would have us believe in Holy Scripture alone, or you, who would have them believe in the opinions of their fellow-creatures rather than in the Word of God?”
Thus spoke the youthful master of arts, but he proceeded further, and accused the doctors of the Sorbonne of having obscured the Gospel, extinguished faith, and substituted an empty philosophy in the place of Christianity. He also proved unanswerably that the heresy was at Paris and Rome, and the catholic truth at Wittemberg.
A very general agitation was caused in this city towards the end of 1521 by events that led to the “abolition of the mass at Wittemberg. A zealous monk, named Gabriel Zwilling, the chaplain of the monastery of the Augustines, had declared in his preaching that private masses were contrary to Scripture, that the worship of the host was idolatry, and that the Lord's Sacrament should be partaken of in both the bread and the wine. Zwilling was supported by his brother monks, but opposed by the prior of the convent. The controversy quickly spread to the inhabitants of the city and the students of the university, some taking sides with the monks and others with the prior. The elector's court was troubled, and Frederick sent his chancellor to Wittemberg, with orders to reduce the refractory monks to obedience by putting them, if necessary, on bread and water.
On October 12th, a deputation from the professors of the university, which included Melancthon, visited the convent, and exhorted the brethren to attempt no innovations, or at least to wait a little longer before so doing. The arguments with which the exhortations of the deputation were met were, however, so convincing that the professors were inclined to embrace them, and handed a report to the elector in which, after setting forth the errors of the mass, they said: "Let your highness put an end to every abuse, lest Christ in the day of judgment should rebuke us as He did the people of Capernaum.”
Melancthon followed the report by publishing fifty-five propositions intended to enlighten men's minds on the Scriptural meaning of the Lord's Supper, in which he showed that there is but one sacrifice-one satisfaction for sins-Jesus Christ. Beside Him there is none other.
On Christmas Day Carlstadt administered the Lord's Supper in the parish church, according to its primitive form, and again on New Year's Day, and in January, 1522, the council and university of Wittemberg gave their sanction and authority to this sacrament being administered according to the new and reformed ritual.
Zwilling also attacked monasticism, with the result that fifteen monks left the Augustine monastery and laying aside the costume of their order returned into the midst of the world, there to follow the commandments of God and render themselves profitable to society.
Much trouble was caused at Wittemberg about this time by the pretensions of the Anabaptists and the impetuosity of Carlstadt. This sect had arisen at Zwickau, where a clothier named Nicholas Storch, a former student of Wittemberg by name Mark Stubner, and a weaver Mark Thomas, professed to have received direct revelations from, heaven, and took upon themselves, in conjunction with one Thomas Munzer, to complete the reformation which Luther had begun. Storch, Stubner, and Thomas arrived at Wittemberg on December 27th, and calling on the professors of the university, announced that they were sent by God to instruct the people. "We have held familiar conversation with the Lord," said they, "we know what will happen; in a word, we are apostles and prophets, and appeal to Dr. Luther.”
“Who has commissioned you to preach?" asked Melancthon of his old pupil Stubner. "The Lord our. God," he replied. "Have you written any books?" "The Lord our God has forbidden me to do so." Melancthon was agitated. "There are, indeed, extraordinary spirits in these men," he said, "but what spirits? Luther alone can decide. On the one hand let us beware of quenching the Spirit of God, and on the other of being led away by the spirit of Satan." He was also perplexed concerning the doctrine of these men in their rejection of infant baptism; and thought it worthy of examination, "for," said he, "we must neither admit nor reject anything lightly.”
The elector hesitated to give an opinion as to the divine commission of these new teachers. "This is a great matter," said he, "and as a layman I cannot understand it. But rather than fight against God, I would take a staff in my band and descend from my throne.”
The opinions of the new prophets spread, and Luther in the Wartburg was apprised of the agitation prevailing at the elector's court and at Wittemberg. He saw that these afflicting events had been permitted by God to humble His servants, and to excite them by trials to strive more earnestly after sanctification. "I always expected that Satan would send us the plague," he wrote to the elector. But at the same time He deprecated the use of harsh measures towards these new apostles. "Beware of throwing them into prison," he wrote to Spalatin; and, "Let not the prince dip his hand in the blood of these new prophets.”
Carlstadt rejected many of the doctrines of the Anabaptists, and especially that concerning infant baptism, but from the time of their arrival in Wittemberg he quickened his movements in the way of violent reforms. "We must fall upon every ungodly practice, and overthrow them all in a day," be declared; and bringing together all the passages of Scripture against images, he inveighed energetically against the idolatry of Rome. "They fall down, they crawl before their idols," he exclaimed; "they burn tapers before them, and make them offerings. Let us arise and tear them from the altars.”
The excited populace eagerly seized on these words. They entered the churches, carried away the images, broke them in pieces and burnt them. To judge by the language of these enthusiasts, there were no true Christians in Wittemberg save those who went not to confession, who attacked the priests, and who ate meat on fast days. If anyone was suspected of not rejecting all the rites of the Church as an invention of the devil, he was set down as a worshipper of Baal. "We must form a Church," cried they, "composed of saints only.”
Learning was also despised. Carlstadt advised his pupils to return home and till the land; and others spoke in the same strain. What need was there to study, when Storch and Thomas, who had never been at the university, were prophets? A mechanic, therefore, was as well qualified as all the doctors in the world, and perhaps better, to preach the Gospel.
The results of such teaching were quickly manifested. Men's minds, filled with these new doctrines, were agitated, and led away from the truth. The university became disorganized, the students dispersed, and the governments of Germany recalled their subjects. Thus the cause of the Reformation was greatly imperiled, and seemed to totter on the verge of ruin.
Melancthon was deeply grieved by these disorders. He reproved Carlstadt for his pride; but he was too young and weak to successfully combat the evil. All eyes turned to Luther, and his name was constantly upon the lips of the inhabitants of Wittemberg; but he was a captive far away! Yet he had been apprised of the state of affairs; and pains more keen than he had ever suffered before racked and tortured him, and new temptations assailed his firm faith in God. "Can such, then, be the end of the great work of the Reformation?" he cried in his agitation. "Impossible! God has begun... God will perfect the work. I creep in deep humility to the grace of the Lord," he exclaimed, "and beseech Him that His name may remain attached to this work, and that if anything impure be mixed up with it, He will remember that I am a sinful man.”
Fully realizing the perilous position of affairs at Wittemberg, and also well aware of the imminent dangers that threatened his life, Luther resolved at all hazards to return to that city and try to quench the spreading conflagration. "More serious intelligence reaches me every day," he wrote; "I shall set out circumstances positively require me to do so.”
He left the Wartburg on March 3rd, 1522, and arrived at Wittemberg on the seventh of that month. On the following Sunday he preached, when the church was filled with an attentive but excited crowd. Speaking in language simple and gentle, yet noble and full of strength, he prepared the minds of his hearers for the more searching sentences with which he pressed home their guilt: “The abolition of the mass, say you, is in conformity with Scripture. Agreed! But what order, what decency have you observed? It behooved you to offer up fervent prayers to the Lord, and apply to the public authority; then might every man have acknowledged that the thing was of God.”
He reminded his hearers of Paul's behavior at Athens, and how the idols fell without the touch of the Apostle's hands, and then continued: “I will preach, discuss, and write; but I will constrain none, for faith is a voluntary act. See what I have done! I stood up against the pope, indulgences, and Papists, but without violence or tumult. I put forward God's Word; I preached and wrote—this was all I did. And yet while I was asleep, or seated familiarly with Amsdorff and Melancthon, the Word that I had preached overthrew popery, so that neither prince nor emperor has done it so much harm. And yet I did nothing, the Word alone did all. If I had wished to appeal to force, the whole of Germany would perhaps have been deluged with blood. But what would have been the result? Ruin and desolation both to body and soul.”
Luther preached again on the following Tuesday, and afterward met the new prophets in conference, the result being that they abandoned the field and left the city.
Tranquility was restored. The people became quiet and submissive, and the Reformation was saved.