To give an affirmative reply to this would call for very strong proofs, which, in point of fact, are not forthcoming. The passage in the Latin Table-Talk[932] quoted in justification contains nothing of the sort, but, strange to say, a very fine exhortation to continence. For this reason we must again consider it, though it has already been dealt with. The exhortation commences with the words: “God is Almighty, Eternal, Merciful, Longsuffering, Chaste, etc. He loves chastity, purity, modesty. He aids and preserves it by the sacred institution of marriage in order that [as Paul says] each one may possess his vessel in sanctification, free from unbridled lust. He punishes rape, adultery, fornication, incest and secret sins with infamy and terrible bodily consequences. He warns such sinners that they shall have no part in the Kingdom of God. Therefore let us be watchful in prayer,” etc. It is true, however, that this pious exhortation is set off by frivolous remarks, and it is probably one of these which suggested the erroneous reference. Luther here speaks of his young “relative,” Magdalene Kaufmann—a girl of marriageable age living in his house—and of two other maidens of the same age, remarking that formerly people had been ready for marriage at an earlier age than now, but that he was ready to vouch for the fitness of these three wenches for conjugal work, even to staking his wife on it, etc. Of any “wicked orgies” we hear nothing whatever. Further, it is inexact to state, as has been done, that Luther was surrounded in “his dwelling” by nuns whom he had given a lodging. Neither before nor after his marriage did they stay with him permanently; as already stated (vol. ii., p. 138) he either handed over the escaped nuns to their friends or lodged them in families at Wittenberg. Only on one occasion, in September, 1525, when in the hurry it was impossible to find accommodation for a new band of fugitives, did he receive them temporarily, possibly only for a few days, in the great “Black Monastery.”[933] There, as he himself then expressed it, he was “privatus pater familias.”

The popular writer who is responsible for the tale of the “orgies” also declares, there are “other admissions of Luther’s” “which will not bear repetition.” No such admissions exist. The phrase that this or that will not bear repetition is, however, a favourite one among controversialists of a certain school, though very misleading; many, no doubt, will have been quite disappointed on looking up the passages in question in Luther’s writings to find in them nothing nearly so bad as they had been led to expect; this, indeed, was one of the reasons which impelled us rigidly to exclude from the present work any reservation and to give in full even the most revolting passages. Of one of Luther’s Theses against the theologians of Louvain we read, for instance, in a controversial pamphlet which is not usually particular about the propriety of its quotations, that the author does “not dare reproduce it”; yet, albeit coarsely worded, the passage in question really contains nothing so very dreadful, and, as for its coarseness, it is merely such as every reader of Luther’s works is prepared to encounter. The passage thus incriminated, which reads comically enough in its scholastic presentation (Thesis 31), runs as follows: “Deinde nihil ex scripturis, sed omnia ex doctrinis hominum ructant [Lovanienses], vomunt et cacant in ecclesiam, non suam sed Dei viventis.”[934] The German translation in the original edition of 1545 slightly aggravates the wording of the Thesis.[935]

Such is the story, taken from a Catholic sermon preached in 1580 by Wolfgang Agricola and long exploited in popular anti-Lutheran writings as a proof that Luther really made such a statement. A “document,” an “ancient deed,” nay, even a confidential “letter to his friend Spalatin,” containing the statement have also been hinted at; all this, however, is non-existent; all that we have is the story in the sermon.

The sermon, which is to be found in an old Ingolstadt print,[937] contains all sorts of interesting religious memories of Spalatin, the influential friend of Luther’s youthful days. The preacher was Dean in the little town of Spalt, near Nuremberg, Spalatin’s birthplace, from which the latter was known by the name of Spalatinus, his real name being Burkard. The recollections are by no means all of them equally vouched for, and hence we must go into them carefully in order rightly to appreciate the value of each. We shall see that those dealing with Luther’s love-adventures are the least to be trusted.

Agricola first gives some particulars concerning Spalatin’s past, which seem founded on reliable tradition; in this his object is to confirm Catholics in their fidelity to the Church. Spalatin, in the course of a journey, came to his birthplace and, with forty-six gulden, founded a yearly Mass for his parents, the anniversary having been kept ever since, “even to the present day.” It is evident that this was vouched for by written documents. To say, as some Protestants have, that this and what follows is the merest invention, is not justified. Agricola goes on to inform us that Spalatin settled the finances of the family, and that, on this occasion, he presented to the township of Spalt a picture of Our Lady, which had once belonged to the Schlosskirche of Wittenberg, requesting, however, that, out of consideration for Luther, the fact of his being the donor should be kept secret until after his death. Agricola also tells how, during his stay, Spalatin invited the “then Dean, Thomas Ludel,” with the members of the chapter to be his guests, and in turn accepted their hospitality; he also attended the Catholic sermons in order to ascertain how the Word of God was preached. Thomas Ludel, the Dean, found opportunity quite frankly to discuss Spalatin’s religious attitude, whereupon the latter said: “Stick to your own form of Divine Service,” nor did Spalatin shrink from giving the same advice to the people. Every year, says Agricola, the picture of Our Lady which he had presented was placed on the High Altar to remind the faithful of the exhortation of their fellow-citizen.[938] The picture in question is still to be seen to-day at Spalt.[939] The narrator goes so far as to declare, that during the Dean’s observations on his religious conduct “the tears came to Spalatin’s eyes”; “I admit,” he said, “that we carried things too far.... God be merciful to us all!” From Luther’s correspondence we know that Spalatin, in later days, was much disquieted by melancholy and temptations to despair. Luther, by his letters, sought to inspire his friend as he approached the close of his life with confidence in Christ, agreeably with the tenets of the new Evangel.[940]

Almost all that Agricola here relates appears, from its local colouring, to be absolutely reliable, but this is by no means the case with what is of more interest to us, viz. the account of Luther as prospective bridegroom which he appends to his stories of Spalatin. The difference between this account and what has gone before cannot fail to strike one.

According to this story of Agricola’s, set in a period some three-quarters of a century earlier, Luther, as a young Augustinian, at Erfurt struck up a friendship with Spalatin who was still studying there. At the University were two other youths from Spalt, George Ferber, who subsequently became Doctor, parish-priest and Dean of Spalt, and Hans Schlahinhauffen. All four became fast friends, and Luther was a frequent visitor at the house where they lived with a widow who had a pretty daughter. He became greatly enamoured of the girl and “taught her lace-making,” until the mother forbade him the house. He often declared: “Oh, Spalatin, Spalatin, you cannot believe how devoted I am to this pretty maid; I will not die before I have brought things to such a pass that I also shall be able to marry a nice girl.” Eventually, with the assistance of Spalatin, Luther, so we are told, introduced his innovations, partly in order to make himself famous, partly in order to be able to marry a girl.[941]

It is hardly probable that Wolfgang Agricola himself invented this story of the monk; more likely he found it amongst the numerous tales concerning Spalatin current at Spalt. His authority for the tale he does not give. It can scarcely have emanated from Spalatin himself—for instance, have been told by him on the occasion of the visit mentioned above—for then Agricola would surely have said so. It more probably belongs to that category of obscure myths clustering round the early days of Luther’s struggle with the Church.

What is, however, of greater importance is that the monk’s behaviour, as here described, does not tally with the facts known. During his first stay at the Erfurt monastery Luther was not by any means the worldly young man here depicted, and even during his second sojourn there (autumn, 1508—autumn, 1510) no one remarked any such tendency in him; on the contrary, the seven Observantine priories chose him as their representative at Rome, presumably because he was a man in whom they could trust. We may call to mind that the then Cathedral Provost of Magdeburg, Prince Adolf of Anhalt, received letters from him at this time attesting his zeal for the “spiritual life and doctrine,”[942] and that Luther’s opponent, Cochlæus, from information received from Luther’s brethren, gives him credit for the careful observance of the Rule in the matter of spiritual exercises and studies during his first years as a monk.[943] The notable change in Luther’s outward mode of life took place only after his return from Rome when he abandoned the cause of the Observantine party.

Spalatin commenced his studies at Erfurt in 1498 and continued them from 1502 at Wittenberg; thence, on their termination, he returned to Erfurt in order to take up the position of tutor at a mansion, which he soon quitted to become (1505-1508) spiritual preceptor in the neighbouring convent of Georgenthal. Thus the date of his first stay at Erfurt was too early for him, while himself a student, to have met Luther as a monk, seeing that the latter only entered the monastery in 1505. His second stay presents this further difficulty, that it is not likely that Spalatin lived with the other students at the widow’s house, but, first in a wealthy family, and, later, either in or near the convent. Further, were the other two youths hailing from Spalt then at Erfurt? A certain Johannes Schlaginhaufen from Spalt was there in 1518 and is also mentioned as being at the University in 1520. He is, perhaps, the same as the compiler of the Table-Talk edited by Wilhelm Preger,[944] but, if so, he was not a fellow-student of Luther’s at Erfurt. No other similar name appears in the register. The name of the second, George Ferber, cannot be found at all in the Erfurt University register, nor any Farber, Färber or Tinctoris even with another Christian name. Thus there are difficulties on every side.

Then again, the familiar visits to the girl, as though there had been no Rule which debarred the young religious from such intercourse. We know that even in 1516 the Humanist Mutian had great trouble in obtaining permission for an Augustinian frequently to visit his house at Erfurt, even accompanied by another Friar.[945]

Hence, however deserving of credit Agricola’s other accounts of Spalatin may be, we cannot accept his story of Luther’s doings as a monk. Nor is this the only statement concerning the earlier history of the Reformation in which Agricola has gone astray. The story may have grown up at Spalt owing to some misunderstanding of something said by George Ferber, the Dean of Spalt, who was supposed to have been a fellow-student of Luther’s at Erfurt, and who may possibly have related tales of the young Augustinian’s early imprudence. It is however possible, in fact not at all unlikely, that, in 1501, when Luther was still a secular student at Erfurt, and according to the above, a contemporary of Spalatin’s, he took a passing fancy to a girl in the house where Spalatin boarded, and that, during the controversies which accompanied the Reformation, a rumour of this was magnified into the tale that, as a monk, Luther had courted a girl, had been desirous of marrying, and, for this reason, had quitted both his Order and the Church.

Entirely unfounded suspicions have been raised concerning Luther’s residence in Frau Cotta’s house at Eisenach (vol. i., p. 5). There is not the slightest justification for thinking that Frau Cotta—who has erroneously been described as a young widow—acted from base motives in thus receiving the youth, nor for the tale of his charming her by his playing on the lute or the flute.

Cuntz (Conrad) Cotta, the husband of Ursula Cotta (her maiden-name was Schalbe), was still living when Luther, at the age of fifteen or sixteen, was so kindly received into the house and thus dispensed from supplementing his small resources by singing in the streets. Conrad’s name appears in 1505 in the Eisenach registers as one of the parish representatives. His wife Ursula, witness her tombstone, died in 1511.[946] How old she was at the time she became acquainted with Luther cannot be determined, but quite possibly, she, like her husband, was no longer young. The date of death of two supposed sons of hers would certainly tend to show that she was then still young, but these two Cottas, as has been proved, were not her sons, though they may have been nephews. Conrad Cotta is not known to have had any children, and the fact of his being childless would explain all the more readily Luther’s reception into his household.

Mathesius, in his frequently quoted historical sermons on Luther,[947] says, that “a pious matron” admitted the poor scholar to her table. He is referring to Ursula Cotta. The word matron which he makes use of seems intended to denote rather respectability than advanced age. That he should mention only the wife is probably due to the fact that she, rather than her husband, was Luther’s benefactress. He seems to have had the account from Luther himself, who, it would appear, told him the story together with the edifying cause of his reception. This Mathesius relates in a way which excludes rather than suggests any thought of dishonourable motives. He says that the matron conceived a “yearning attraction for the boy on account of his singing and his earnest prayer in the churches.” The expression “yearning attraction,” which sounds somewhat strange to us, was not unusual then and comes naturally to a preacher rather inclined to be sentimental, as was Mathesius. Ratzeberger the physician, a friend of Luther’s to whom the latter may also have spoken of his stay at Eisenach, merely says, that the scholar “found board and lodging at Cuntz Cotta’s.” Thus he credits the husband with the act of charity.

Luther could not well have played the flute there, seeing that he never learned to play that instrument; as for the lute, he became proficient on it only during his academic years; nor does any source allude to musical entertainments taking place in the Cotta household.

Luther relates later in the Table-Talk,[948] that he had learned this saying from his “hostess at Eisenach,” i.e. Frau Cotta: “There is nought dearer on earth than the love of woman to the man who can win it.” This, however, affords no ground for thinking evil. The saying was a popular one in general use and may quite naturally refer to the love existing between husband and wife. It is another question whether it was quite seemly on Luther’s part to quote this saying as he did in his Glosses on the Bible, in connection with the fine description of the “mulier fortis” (Proverbs xxxi. 10 ff.), so distinguished for her virtue.

In view of the fear of death which he had often experienced when lying on the bed of sickness, Luther, so we are told, came to envy the lot of the hog, and to exclaim: “I am convinced that anyone who has felt the anguish and terror of death would rather be a pig than bear it for ever and ever.” That such are his words is perfectly true, and he even goes on to give a graphic description of the happy and comfortable life a pig leads until it comes under the hand of the butcher, all due to its unacquaintance with death.[949]

It should first be noted that, throughout the work in question, “Von den Jüden und jren Lügen,” Luther is busy with the Jews. He compares the happiness which, according to him, they await from their Messias, with that enjoyed by the pig.[950] In his cynical manner he concludes that the happiness of the pig was even to be preferred to Jewish happiness, for the Jews would not be “secure for a single hour” in the material happiness they expected, for they would be oppressed by the “horrible burden and plague of all men, viz. death,” seeing that they merely look for a temporal king as their Messias, who shall procure them riches, mirth and pleasure. Thereupon we get one of his customary outbursts: “Were God to promise me no other Messias than him for whom the Jews hope, I would very much rather be a pig than a man.”

Yet he proceeds: I, however, as a Christian, have a better Messias, “so that I have no reason to fear death, being assured of life everlasting,” etc. Well might our “heart jump for joy and be intoxicated with mirth.” “We give thanks to the Father of all Mercy.... It was in such joy as this that the Apostles sang and gave praise in prison amidst all their misery, and even young maidens, like Agatha and Lucy,” etc. But the wretched Jews refused to acknowledge this Messias.

How then can one infer from Luther’s words, “I am convinced that anyone who has felt the anguish and terror of death,” etc., that he represented the lot of the hog as the supreme goal of Christians in general and himself in particular? It is true that he magnifies the fear of death which naturally must oppress the heart of every believer, and for the moment makes no account of the consolation of Christian hope, but all this is merely with the object of forcing home more strongly to the Jews whom he is addressing, what he had just said: “Of what use would all this be to me [viz. the earthly happiness which you look for] if I could not be sure of it even for one hour? If the horrible burden and plague of all men, death, still presses on me, from which I am not secure for one instant, but go in fear of it, of hell and the wrath of God, and tremble and shiver at the prospect, and this without any hope of its coming to an end, but continuing for all eternity?” His closing words apply to unbelievers who are ignorant of the salvation which is in Christ: “It is better to be a live pig than a man who is everlastingly dying.” The passage therefore does not convey the meaning which has been read into it.

The statement made by some Catholics that he did can be traced back to a misunderstanding of the simple word “dead.” This word he wrote against several passages of a memorandum of Spalatin’s on matrimonial questions submitted by the Elector in 1528, for instance, against one which ran: “Further, brother and sister may not marry, neither may a man take his brother’s or sister’s daughter or granddaughter. And similarly it is forbidden to marry one’s father’s, grandfather’s, mother’s or grandmother’s sister.”[951] The word “dead” here appended does not mean that the prohibition has ceased to hold, but is equivalent to “delete,” and implies that the passage should be omitted in print. Luther considered it unnecessary or undesirable that the impediments in question should be mentioned in this “Instruction”; he prefers that preachers should as a general rule simply insist on compliance with the Laws of the Empire.

The accompanying letter of the Elector, in which he requests Luther to read through the memorandum, anticipates such a recommendation to omit. In it the writer asks whether “it would perhaps be better to leave this out and to advise the pastors and preachers of this fact in the Visitation,”[952] since, in any case, the “Imperial Code,” in which everything was contained in detail, was to be taken as the groundwork. Against many clauses of the Instruction Luther places the word “placet”; a “non placet” occurs nowhere; on the other hand, we find frequently “omittatur, dead, all this dead” (i.e. “delete”); he also says: “hoc manebit, hactenus manebit textus” (equivalent to “stet”). If “dead” had meant the same as “this impediment no longer holds,” then Luther would here have removed the impediment even between father and daughter, mother and son, seeing that he writes “dead” also against the preceding clause, which runs: “Firstly, the marriage of persons related in the ascending and descending line is prohibited throughout and in infinitum.”

This charge, too, belongs to the old armoury of well-worn weapons beloved of controversialists. The answer to the question may possibly afford material of some interest to the historian and man of letters.

Down to quite recent times it was not unusual to find in Catholic works a story of a poem, said to have been by Luther, found in a MS. Bible in the Vatican Library, in which Luther prayed that God in His Goodness would bestow “many wives and few children.” At the present day no MS. Bible containing a poem by Luther, or any similar German verses, exists in the Vatican Library. What is meant, however, is a German translation of Holy Scripture, in five volumes, dating from the fifteenth century, which was formerly kept in the Vatican and now belongs to the Heidelberg University library. It is one of those Heidelberg MSS. which were brought to Rome in 1623 and again wandered back to their old quarters in 1816 (Palat. German. n. 19-23). The “poem” in question is at the end of vol. ii. (cod. 20). Of it, as given by Bartsch (“Die altdeutschen Handschriften der Universität Heidelberg”) and Wilken (“Heidelberger Büchersammlung”),[953] we append a rough translation:

The “poem” has nothing whatever to do with Luther. It is a product of the Middle Ages, met with under various forms. The “Explicit,” too, is older than Luther and presumably was added by the copyist of the volume. In the seventeenth century the opinion seems to have gained ground that Luther was the author, though no Roman scholar can be invoked as having said so. Of the MS. Montfaucon merely says: “A very old German Bible is worthy of notice”; Luther’s name he does not mention.[954]

One witness for the ascription of its authorship to Luther was Max. Misson, who, in his “Nouveau voyage d’Italie,”[955] gives the “poem” very inaccurately and states that a Bible was shown him at the Vatican in which Luther was said to have written it, and that the writing was the same as that of the rest of the volume. He adds, however, that it was hardly credible that Luther should have written such things in a Bible.

Later, Christian Juncker, a Protestant, relates the same thing in his “Life of Luther,” published in 1699, but likewise expresses a doubt. He quotes the discourse on Travels in Italy by Johann Fabricius, the theologian of Helmstedt, where the version of the verses differs from that given by Misson.[956]

According to a record of a journey to Rome undertaken in 1693, given by Johann Friedrich von Wolfframsdorf, he, too, was shown a MS. Bible alleged to have been written by Luther, doubtless that mentioned above.[957]

As a matter of fact the “poem” in question was a popular mediæval one, frequently met with in manuscripts, sometimes in quite inoffensive forms. At any rate, the jingling rhymes (in the German original: Güte, Hüte, Rinder, Kinder) are the persistent feature. According to Bartsch it occurs in the Zimmern Chronik[958] in a version attributed to Count Hans Werdenberg (1268), which, while retaining the same rhymes (in the German), inverts the meaning. Here the prayer is for:

From a MS., “Gesta Romanorum,” of 1476, J. L. Hocker (“Bibliotheca Heilbronnensis”[959]), quotes a similar but shorter verse.[960] A different rendering of the poem was entered into a Diary in 1596 by Wolff von Stechau.[961]

Certain Protestant writers of the present day, not content with “saving Luther’s honour” by emphasising the fact that the above verses of the Heidelberg MS. are not his, proceed to insinuate that they were really “aimed at the clergy”; the “hoods” and “hats” of which they speak were forsooth the monks’ and the cardinals’, and the rhymester was all the time envying the gay life of the clergy; thus the poem, so we are told, throws a “lurid light on the esteem in which the mediæval monks and clergy were held by the laity committed to their care.”—Yet the verses contain no reference whatever to ecclesiastics. “Hoods” were part of the layman’s dress and presumably “hats,” too. And after all, would it have been so very wicked even for a pious layman to wish to share in the good things possessed by the clergy? If satires on the mediæval clergy are sought for, sufficient are to be found without including this poor jingle.

Controversial writers have seen fit to accuse Luther of including wives in the “daily bread” for which we ask, and, in support of their charge, refer to his explanation of the fourth request of the Our Father. In point of fact in the Smaller Catechism the following is his teaching concerning this petition: It teaches us to ask God “for everything required for the sustenance and needs of the body, such as food, drink, clothes, shoes and house, a farm, fields, cattle, money, goods, a pious spouse, pious children and servants, and good masters, etc.[962] In the Larger Catechism the list is similar: Food and drink, clothes, a house and farm, health of body, grain and fruits, a pious wife, children and servants,” etc.[963] With all this surely no fault can be found.

These verses are found neither in Luther’s own writings nor in the old notes and written traditions concerning him. Joh. Heinrich Voss was the first to publish them in the “Wandsbeker Bote” in 1775, reprinting them in his Musenalmanach (1777). When he was charged by Senior Herrenschmidt with having foisted them on to Luther, he admitted that he was unable to give any account of their origin.[964] Several proverbs of a similar type, dating from mediæval times, have been cited.

A humorous remark of Luther’s would appear, according to Seidemann, to refer to some earlier proverb linking together women, wine and song. The remark in question is contained in the MS. collection of the Table-Talk preserved at Gotha and known as “Serotina,” now available in the work of E. Kroker, published in 1903.[965] The entire passage is not to be taken seriously: “To-morrow I have to lecture on Noe’s drunkenness, so to-night I shall drink deeply so as to be able to speak of the naughty thing from experience. ‘Not at all,’ said Dr. Cordatus, ‘you must do just the opposite.’ Thereupon Luther remarked: ‘Each country must be granted its own special fault. The Bohemians are gluttons, the Wends thieves, the Germans hard drinkers; for my dear Cordatus, in what else does a German excel than ‘ebrietate, praesertim talem, qui non diligit musicam et mulieres’?” This saying of Luther’s, which was noted down by Lauterbach and Weller, belongs to the year 1536.

Luther’s saying: “If I have a can of beer, I want the beer-barrel as well,”[967] has often been cited against him, the fact being overlooked, that he only made use of this expression in order to illustrate, by a very common example, the idea, expressed in the heading of the chapter in which it occurs, viz. that “No one is ever satisfied.” Everyone, he continues, desires to go one step higher, everyone wants to attain to something more, and, then, with other examples, he gives that mentioned above, where, for “I,” we might equally well substitute “we,” which indeed we find employed elsewhere in this same connection: “If we have one Gulden, we want a hundred.”

Another passage, alleged, strange to say, by older writers, proves nothing: “We eat ourselves to death, and drink ourselves to death; we eat and drink ourselves into poverty and down to hell.” Here Luther is merely speaking against the habit of drinking which had become so prevalent, and dominated some to such an extent that death and hell were the lamentable consequences to be feared. (See below, p. 308 f.)

Luther, wishing to drive a point home, says that he is not “drunk,”[968] but is writing “in the morning hours.”[969] Must we infer, then, that he was in the habit of writing when drunk, or that in the afternoon he was not usually sober? Must he be considered drunk whenever he does not state plainly that he is sober? The truth is that such expressions were merely his way of speaking. In the important passage here under consideration he writes: “Possibly it may be asserted later that I did not sufficiently weigh what I say here against those who deny the presence of Christ in the Sacrament; but I am not drunk or giddy; I know what I am saying and what it will mean to me on Judgment Day and at the second coming of the Lord Jesus Christ.”[970] Thus he is speaking most seriously and uses this curious verbal artifice simply to emphasise his earnestness. Were additional proof necessary it might be found in other passages; for instance: “Christ was not drunk when He said this,” viz. the Eucharistic words of consecration, the literal meaning of which Luther is upholding against the Strasburg Sacramentarians.[971]

For the purpose of discrediting Luther an old opponent wrote: “The part that eating and drinking play in the life of the Reformer is evident from his letters to his Katey,” and then went on to refer to the perfectly innocent passage where Luther says, that he preferred the beer and wine he was used to at home to what he was having at Dessau, whence he wrote. The rest of the letter has also been taken in an unnecessarily tragic sense: “Yesterday I had some poor stuff to drink so that I had to begin singing: ‘If I can’t drink deep then I am sad, for a good deep drink ever makes me so glad.’” It is quite unnecessary to take this as a song sung by a “tipsy man”; it is simply a jesting reference to a popular ditty which quite possibly he had actually struck up to get rid of his annoyance at the quality of the liquor. “You would do well,” he continues in the same jocular vein, “to send me over the whole cellar full of my usual wine, and a bottle of your beer as often as you can, else I shall not turn up any more for the new brew.”[972]

No one who is familiar with his homely mode of speech will take offence at his calling himself on one occasion the “corpulent Doctor,” and in any case this involves neither gluttony nor drunkenness. Moreover, the words occur in a serious connection, for we shall hear it from him during the last days of his life: “When I return again to Wittenberg I shall lay myself in my coffin and give the worms a corpulent doctor to feast on,”[973] referring, of course, to his natural stoutness. Offence has also been taken at a sentence met with in Luther’s Table-Talk, where he says of his contemporaries of fifty years before: “How thin they [i.e. their ranks] have become”; from which it was inferred that he wished them a luxurious life and corpulence, and that he “regarded pot bellies as an ornament and a thing to be desired.” From its context, however, the meaning of the word “thin” is clear. What Luther means is: How few of them remain in the land of the living.

But does not Luther in a letter of his let fall a remark scarcely beseeming one in his position, viz. that he would like to be more frequently in the company of those “good fellows, the students,” “the beer is good, the parlour-maid pretty, the lads friendly (innig)”?[974] Such is one of the statements brought forward against him to show his inordinate love of drink. Yet, when examined, the letter is found to say nothing of any yearning of Luther’s to join in the drinking-bouts of the students or of any interest of his in the maid. “Two honest students” had been recommended to Luther, and the letter informs its addressee, the Mansfeld Chancellor Müller at Eisleben, of the rumour that “too much was being consumed without any necessity by the pair”; the Chancellor was to inform the Count of Mansfeld of the fact in order that he (whose protégés they may have been) “might keep an eye on them.” Then come the words: “What harm would friendly supervision do? The beer is good, the parlour-maid pretty and the lads young (‘jung’ not ‘innig’); the students really behave very well, and my only regret is that, owing to my weak health, I am unable to be oftener with them.” This letter surely does Luther credit. It testifies to his solicitude for the two youths committed to his care; seeing they are still “good and pious,” he is anxious to preserve them from intemperance and other dangers, and regrets that, owing to his poor state of health, he is unable to have the pleasure of visiting these young fellows more often.

We must also caution our readers against an alleged quotation from Luther’s contemporary, Simon Lemnius. Lemnius is reported to have said: “His excessive indulgence in wine and beer made Luther at times so ill that he quite expected to die.” No such statement occurs in the works of Lemnius. What this writer actually did say of Luther on the score of drunkenness will be given later. The above words are a modern invention, though one author, strange to say, actually tacked them on to the authentic passage in Lemnius as though they had belonged to the latter.

Again, it has been said that excessive indulgence in some Malvasian wine was, on Luther’s own admission, the cause of a malady which troubled him for a considerable time in 1529. Luther’s letter in question speaks, however, of a “severe and almost fatal catarrh,” which lasted for a long time and almost deprived him of his voice; others, too, says Luther, had suffered from the catarrh (no great wonder in the month of March or April), but not to the same extent as he. He had imprudently aggravated the trouble possibly by preaching too energetically or—and here comes the incriminating passage—“by drinking some adulterated Malvasian to the health of Amsdorf.” Such were his words to his confidential friend Jonas. The fact is that a wine so expensive as Malvasian was then very liable to being adulterated, the demand far exceeding the supply of this beverage, which was always expected to figure on the table on great occasions. At any rate, there is no mention here of Luther’s illness having arisen from continuous and excessive indulgence in wine. At the conclusion of this chapter we shall have to consider a similar passage.

In the above we have examined about a dozen witnesses, whose testimony has been shown quite valueless to prove Luther’s alleged devotion to drink.

The conclusions which have been drawn from the character of certain of Luther’s writings or utterances are also worthless. It has been affirmed that his “Wider das Bapstum vom Teuffel gestifft” could only have been written “under the excitement produced by drink,” and that many of his sayings, such as his exhortation to “pray for Our Lord God,” could have been uttered “only by a drunken man.”

Yet his incredible hatred sufficed of itself to explain the frenzy of his utterances, nor must we forget that some of his expressions, out of place though they may seem, were chosen as best fitted to appeal to the populace. “Pray for Our Lord God,” interpreted in the light of other similar expressions used by him, means: Pray for the interests of our Lord God and of the new Evangel.