But the child seems not to have been brought to God. The only religious sentiment which could be discovered in him was that of fear. Whenever he heard Jesus Christ mentioned he grew pale with terror; for the Saviour had been represented to him as an angry Judge. This servile fear, so foreign to genuine religion, perhaps predisposed him for the glad tidings of the gospel, and for the joy which he afterwards experienced when he became acquainted with him who is meek and lowly in heart.
John Luther longed to make his son a learned man. The new light, which began to radiate in all directions, penetrated even the cottage of the miner of Mansfield, and there awakened ambitious thoughts. The remarkable disposition, and persevering application of his son, inspired John with the most brilliant hopes. Accordingly, in 1497, when Martin had completed his fourteenth year, his father resolved to part with him, and send him to a school of the Franciscans at Magdebourg. Margaret behoved, of course, to consent, and Martin prepared to quit the paternal roof.
Magdebourg was like a new world to Martin. Amid numerous privations, (for he had scarcely the means of subsistence,) he read and attended lectures; André Prolés, provincial of the Augustine Order, was then preaching with great fervour on the necessity of reforming religion and the Church. He, however, was not the person who deposited in the young man's soul the first germ of those ideas which afterwards expanded in it.
This period was a kind of severe apprenticeship to Luther. Launched upon the world at fourteen, without friend or patron, he trembled in presence of his masters, and, during the hours of recreation, painfully begged his food with children as poor as himself. "I and my comrades," says he, "begged a little food for our subsistence. One day, at the season when the Church celebrates the birth of Jesus Christ, we were in a body scouring the neighbouring villages, going from house to house, and, in four parts, singing the ordinary hymns on the Babe at Bethlehem. We stopped before a peasant's cottage, which stood by itself at the extremity of a village. The peasant, hearing us singing our Christmas carols, came out with some provisions which he meant to give us, and asked, in a gruff voice, and a harsh tone, 'Where are you, boys?' His tones frightened us, and we took to our heels. We had no cause for fear; for the peasant was sincere in his offer of assistance: but our hearts were, no doubt, made timid by the menaces and tyranny with which masters at this period oppressed their scholars; hence the sudden fright which seized us. At last, however, the peasant still continuing to call us, we stopped, laid aside our fear, and, running up to him, received the food which he intended for us." "In the same way," adds Luther, "are we wont to tremble and flee when our conscience is guilty and alarmed. Then we are afraid even of the assistance which is offered to us, and of those who are friendly to us, and would do us all sorts of kindness."129
A year had scarcely passed, when John and Margaret, on being made aware of the difficulties which their son had in living in Magdebourg, sent him to Isenach, where there was a celebrated school, and they had a number of relations.130 They had other children; and though their circumstances had improved, they were unable to maintain their son in a strange town. The forges and late hours of John Luther did no more than keep the family at Mansfield. It was hoped that Martin would find a livelihood more easily at Isenach, but he was not more successful. His relations in the town did not trouble themselves about him. Perhaps their own poverty made them unable to give him any assistance.
When the scholar felt the gnawings of hunger he had no resource but to do as at Magdebourg,—to join his fellow-students, and sing with them before the houses for a morsel of bread. This custom of the time of Luther has been preserved, even to our day, in several towns of Germany, where the voices of the boys sometimes produce a most harmonious chant. Instead of bread, poor modest Martin often received only hard words. Then, overcome with sadness, he shed many tears in secret, unable to think of the future without trembling.
One day, in particular, he had been repulsed from three houses, and was preparing, without having broken his fast, to return to his lodging, when, on arriving at St. George's Square, he halted, and, absorbed in gloomy thoughts, stood motionless before the house of an honest burgher.
Will it be necessary, from want of bread, to give up study, and go and work with his father in the mines of Mansfeld? Suddenly a door opens, and a female is seen on the threshold,—it was the wife of Conrad Cotta, the daughter of the burgomaster of Ilefeld.131 Her name was Ursula. The Chronicles of Isenach call her "the pious Shunammite," in allusion to her who so earnestly pressed the prophet Elisha to eat bread with her. Previous to this the Christian Shunammite had more than once observed young Martin in the assemblies of the faithful, and been touched by the sweetness of his voice, and his devout behaviour.132 She had just heard the harsh language addressed to the poor scholar, and seeing him in sadness before her door, she came to his assistance, beckoned him to enter, and set food before him to appease his hunger.
Conrad approved of the benevolence of his wife, and was even so much pleased with the society of young Luther, that some days after he took him home to his house. From this moment his studies were secure. He will not be obliged to return to the mines of Mansfeld, and bury the talent with which God has entrusted him. When he no longer knew what was to become of him God opened to him the heart and the home of a Christian family. This event helped to give him that confidence in God which in after life the strongest tempests could not shake.
In the house of Cotta, Luther was introduced to a mode of life very different from that which he had hitherto known. He there led an easy existence, exempt from want and care. His mind became more serene, his disposition more lively, and his heart more open. His whole being expanded to the mild rays of charity, and began to beat with life, joy, and happiness. His prayers were more ardent, and his thirst for knowledge more intense. He made rapid progress.
To literature and science he added the charms of art. Those who are designed by God to act upon their contemporaries are themselves, in the first instance, seized and carried along by all the tendencies of their age. Luther learned to play on the flute and the lute. The latter instrument he often accompanied with his fine counter voice, thus enlivening his heart in moments of sadness. He took pleasure also in employing his notes to testify his gratitude to his adopted mother, who was very fond of music. His own love of it continued to old age, and both the words and the music of some of the finest anthems which Germany possesses are his composition. Some have even been translated into our language.
Happy time for the young man! Luther always remembered it with emotion. Many years after, a son of Conrad having come to study at Wittemberg, when the poor scholar of Isenach had become the doctor of his age, he gladly received him at his table and under his roof. He wished to pay back to the son part of what he had received from the parents. It was while thinking of the Christian woman who gave him food when all besides repulsed him, that he gave utterance to this fine expression, "Earth has nothing gentler than the female heart in which piety dwells."
Luther was never ashamed of the days when, pressed by hunger, he was under the necessity of begging for his studies and his maintenance. So far from this, he, on the contrary, reflected with gratitude on the great poverty of his youth. He regarded it as one of the means which God had employed to make him what he afterwards became, and he felt thankful for it. The poor youths who were obliged to follow the same course touched his heart. "Do not," said he, "despise the boys who sing before your houses, and ask 'panem propter Deum,' bread for the love of God; I have done it myself. It is true that at a later period, my father, with great love and kindness, kept me at the University of Erfurt, maintaining me by the sweat of his brow; still I once was a poor beggar. And now by means of my pen, I am come thus far, that I would