part of a world empire of which it was a minor fraction. Hence the ideal of German nationality, if it was ever to be attained, seemed to depend on the traditional political forces, the power of the princes. So the unification of Germany was checked by the antithesis between imperialism and nationalism. Another influence was the chance given the princes to preserve their authority by the Protestant Revolt.

In matters social and economic the changes under way were especially noteworthy. The basis of wealth in the middle ages had been land; in the fifteenth century it shifted to trade and commerce. There was a large amount of surplus capital seeking subjects for exploitation. Never since the days. of the old Roman Empire had there been so much luxury and extravagance. The new prosperity, however, was enjoyed almost exclusively by a new middle class composed of merchants and those who made their living by trade. In contrast the nobility were impoverished and ready to take advantage of any movement which might recoup their fortunes. Very portentous also was the situation of the peasants. As the nobility became impoverished, emancipation of the serf increased. The rise of cities created an unprecedented demand for foodstuffs and the farmer enjoyed high prices. Yet the peasant was not satisfied. With the advent of capitalism the gulf between the rich and the poor in the cities was widened; the new middle class, anxious to secure land as a means to social advancement, applied to the soil the principles of exploitation. The nobility, pressed for money to meet new standards of living, also squeezed the last penny and the last rent. Indeed the Roman law was appealed to as a means of strengthening the rights of the landed proprietor. For seventy-five years before Luther's revolt, Germany was a hot-bed for peasant insurrections; more than once religion was the spark which lighted the flame.

With the social and economic change came an intellectual revolution. Humanism, the literary study of the classics, held a notable message for Germany. The German humanists were patriots, seeking to arouse an interest in the country's past and a sense of unity for the future. Most of them were deeply pious, establishing schools, seeking to give popular religion

some other basis than superstition, leading the theologians to the early sources of Christianity, and criticizing freely the abuses in the church. Behind humanism was the new middle class. With no traditions of its own, it was very eager to demolish the old standards of taste and scholarship and erect new ones of its own patronage.

But what have these things to do with Luther and the Reformation? Everything, as is apparent when we turn to the church. There is only one modern phrase that can characterize the church from the fourth to the sixteenth century. That is, international monopoly. First, it was a spiritual monopoly. Since the third century it was held that there could be no salvation outside the pale of the church; indeed he who rejected the church not only suffered the tortures of the damned after death, but in this life forfeited all civil rights. Yet this monopoly was based on well organized thought in which there were three leading ideas. One was the contrast between the sinfulness of man's nature and the divine righteousness of God. So overwhelming is man's depravity that he cannot unaided escape the vengeance of a righteous God; hence the mediation of God's institution on earth, the church. But not only must man escape future punishment; he must be saved from sin here below, from that corruption of the flesh uppermost in the mind of St. Paul. In other words there must be a moral transformation, a change of character. Begun here on earth it finds its completion after death in the City of God, "not made with hands." Finally, the agency by which future punishment is averted and character reformed, is the sacraments, "the visible signs" through which operate the grace of Christ. Thus baptism cleanses from original sin, confirmation gives the guardianship of the Holy Spirit, penance removes the guilt of sin committed in this life, eucharist gives spiritual food, the elements of Christ Himself; and extreme unction prepares us to cross the great divide at the end of this earthly life. Through these conceptions the principles of Christian morality were established in western Europe; they were the inspiration of the sublimest art, the most beautiful music, the most impressive ritual of all Christendom; through them thousands of saints attained an intimate communion with

God. Do we not frequently sing in our Protestant churches the hymn of St. Bernard,

"Jesus, the very thought of Thee

With sweetness fills my breast."

Nor did the monopoly of the church end with things spiritual. It was also a land trust, controlling one-fourth of the land in England, one-fifth of that in France, and one-third of that in Germany. It also had a monopoly on certain law cases. All questions of wills and testament, marriage and divorce, perjury and contracts, criminal clergy and moral crime, and church lands found their way into the church courts. Indeed the church claimed that anything involving sin could come under its jurisdiction, a claim apparently recognized by Bracton when he said, "the court of Rome is the common judge of every Englishman." Finally, the church had a monopoly on intellect; every student and teacher in Northern Europe was a clergyman, and any dissent from the intellectual interpretations of philosophy set by the church brought death and confiscation. Thus the church was "an army encamped on the soil of Christendom, with its outposts everywhere, subject to the most efficient discipline, animated by a common purpose, every soldier panoplied with inviolability and armed with tremendous weapons which slew the soul."

Now here lies the secret of the Reformation. Europe in general and Germany in particular were tired of this international monopoly. The spirit of nationality was tired of the international government; the state hated the church courts; the impoverished nobility and the avaricious middle class cast longing eyes on its property; the peasants were restive under the church taxes; the humanists chafed under its intellectual yoke. No one of these could successfully revolt; united they might; the man who sounded the tocsin so far as Germany was concerned, and gave the battle cry, was Martin Luther.

II

The details of Luther's early life are not essential except as they reflect religious and intellectual conditions in Germany. For seventy-five years before his revolt the country was in

the throes of a complex religious awakening. There seems to have been a revival of religious superstition based on fear of God's punishment. Countless pilgrimages were made, relics were collected, prayer fraternities were organized, new cults were formed, notably that of the Blessed Anna, mother of the Virgin Mary. On the other hand there was more interest in the scripture than ever. No less than fourteen versions of the whole Bible were printed in high German and three in low German, and also twenty-five editions of the gospels and twenty-two of the psalter, before Luther touched his translation of the New Testament. Nor was the church organization unresponsive. A greater prominence was given to preaching, and religious tracts were circulated in which every essential doctrine later insisted on by Luther was emphasized.

Now Luther was a typical product of this popular interest in religion. He had an overwhelming sense of God's wrath, a growing fear of God's vengeance. He was always as superstitious as the benighted peasantry from which he sprang. Not satisfied with the ordinary ministrations of the church, he entered the Augustinian Monastery just after graduation at the University of Erfurt, in 1505. Yet the monastic disciplne of fast, prayer, and scourging the body gave him no solace. The difficulty seems to have been in the futility of penance. Pardon followed confession, but behind confession contrition was required. How could he know when his contrition was deep enough? How could he ever finish confessing every sinful thought, as well as overt act? In other words, the more he thought of his sinful state, the greater seemed his sinful nature, the greater the gulf between him and God. At length he fell upon the passage of St. Paul, “The just shall live by faith." "Straightway I felt," he says, "as if I was born anew. It was as if I had found the door of Paradise thrown wide open. Now I saw the scriptures all together in a new lightI ran through their whole contents as far as my memory would serve, and compared them, and found that this righteousness was really that by which God made us righteous, because everything else in Scripture agree thereunto so well. The expression, the righteousness of God, which I so much heeded. before, now became dear and precious-my darling and com

forting words. That passage of Paul was to me a true door of Paradise."

This experience of Luther was nothing exceptional. Thousands of devout Catholics before his day and since have known it. Indeed Prior Staupitz himself pointed the way when he told Brother Martin that the righteousness of God for those who trust Christ is on the sinner's side, not against him. To Luther the relief was so great that it recast his whole religious life and thought.

Equally important was Luther's intellectual development. At the university he was fond of the classics but was not a humanist. His scholarship made such an impression that he was called to the new University of Wittenburg in 1508 as Professor of Theology. There he became a popular teacher and a leader in the community, and an administrator of the Augustinian Order. Most significant was his relation to the great academic question of the time, the value of scholastic philosophy. The humanists, eager for the literary study of the classics, were in rebellion against the use of books based on the philosophy of Aristotle. Luther joined with them and brought about a reform of the curriculum at Wittenberg. In 1517 he published his Ninety-Seven Theses, questioning the value of scholasticism. In these he calls Aristotle's ethics bad, doubts the accuracy of the translations of his works, and repudiates nominalism and realism. It is significant that Luther printed these theses, not the Ninety-Five on indulgences. Likewise his first revolt against the established order was against its intellectual system. At the same time he made the scriptures rather than works of theology the basis of his lectures and instruction.

III

Such were the notable facts of his life when he lighted the match that produced the conflagration. The kindling wood was the indulgence, a much misunderstood and much abused promise of the church. Briefly, it was a remission of suffering in purgatory for past sins. We may call it a side-degree of penance. Confession and absolution saved one from eternal damnation in hell; but the Christian was not then ready to enter heaven; he must undergo a period of cleansing by phy