Robert Merry's Museum, Vol VIII, July to December, 1844

One of his schemes of ambition was to erect a church at Rome, surpassing all others in magnificence. Accordingly, in 1506, four years before Luther’s arrival, the corner stone of St. Peter’s was laid. In a few months, pushed on by the zeal of the pontiff, the walls were towering over the other churches of Rome; but this precipitation caused the enormous masses to crack, and thus, the progress of the vast enterprise was retarded. It was not till long after that this edifice was finished. The expense was enormous, and it will hereafter be seen that this had a direct connection with the reformation of which Luther was the great instrument.

During his short stay at Rome, Luther beheld the pope in a religious procession. He was raised on a platform, and carried on the shoulders of priests, who deemed it a favor thus to bear the sacred representative of God on earth. His head was bowed upon his breast in token of humility, but he was attired in the most gorgeous robes. His crown glittering with jewels, was borne on a cushion by the highest dignitaries. Then followed others with fans, of peacock and ostrich plumes, which they waved around the person of the pontiff, to guard it from every unhallowed mote. Then came the retinue of cardinals and bishops with crosses and relics, and incense, and music, and lighted tapers, and revered trophies, with all the pomp and circumstance, that human ingenuity, seeking to capture the imagination, could invent. The mighty pageant swept by, “and this,” said Luther, “was all I saw of religion in Rome.”

He stayed but a fortnight in that city. He was disheartened and disgusted with what he saw. Rome was filled with vice of every horrid form, and every degree of enormity. He found, too, that the pope and his cardinals were mere men of the world, that the priests were generally voluptuaries, and many of them open infidels. Admitted as he was to intimacy with many of them, he found that they often made a jest and mockery of the most holy rites, and even while performing the offices of the sacrament, in a sort of by-play turned them into ridicule, and sneered at the deluded people who looked with reverence upon these ceremonies. He hastened back to Germany, his heart distressed, his mind bewildered, his faith shaken. It was this going to Rome, however, that laid the foundation of his subsequent career.

Having returned to Wittenberg, Luther devoted himself to his professorship, seeking peace of mind in a vigorous discharge of its duties. Staupnitz, who saw his great powers, urged him to become a doctor of divinity. Luther consented, and Frederick, Elector of Saxony, and called the Wise, being proud of him, as a native of his dominion, and an ornament of the university, paid the expenses of his inauguration.

Julius II. died February 13, 1513, and the Cardinal Jean de Medicis, under the name of Leo X., became the pope. In 1517, he authorized the sale of indulgences in Germany, as Julius II. had done in France, Poland, &c. The avowed object was to raise money to defray the expenses of the Church of St. Peter’s at Rome, and to sustain the christian league against the Turks. Very little, however, of the vast sums of money obtained, was devoted to the objects for which it was avowedly raised.

The practice of granting indulgences, had existed for centuries before the time of Luther. The Romish Church, assuming to embody the power of Christ, claimed the privilege of remitting the penalty and averting the punishment, here and hereafter, of any sin committed, provided it was confessed and repented of. A penance was often imposed, as the condition of such remission and forgiveness. This penance frequently was commuted for a sum of money, given to the church. Thus money, in the light of penance, became one of the means and instruments by which sin was to be pardoned. From this position, the next step, the sale of indulgences, was obvious and easy. The popes and priests wanted money, and holding the consciences of men in their grasp, they easily laid them under contribution.

Leo’s chief agent in the sale of indulgences was a Dominican monk, by the name of Tetzel. He was a man of high rank and station in the church, and possessed all the address, cunning and effrontery necessary to success in such a business. Clothed with the full power of the pope, and encompassed by all the insignia of the church, his manner was lofty and his aspect imposing. He was paid eighty florins, or forty dollars, a month, beside all his expenses. He was allowed a carriage and three horses. His perquisites, however, far exceeded his regular pay. His success was so great, that at the town of Freyberg, he sold indulgences to the amount of two thousand florins, in two days.

To show the effrontery of the man, thus employed by the pope, we may state that he was guilty of the most abominable profligacy, and though a priest, sworn to celibacy, carried about with him two of his own children! These things, however, did not prevent the success of his traffic. When he came to a place, he went into the church, and set up a cross, with the pope’s arms suspended upon it. He then ascended the pulpit, and addressed the multitude who gathered to hear him.

He declared that indulgences “are the most precious and sublime gifts of God;” that “this cross has as much efficacy as the cross of Christ.” “Draw near, and I will give you letters, duly sealed, by which even the sins you shall hereafter devise and commit, shall all be forgiven you.” “I would not exchange my privileges for those of St. Peter in Heaven, for I have saved more souls with my indulgences, than he with his sermons.” “There is no sin so great that the indulgence cannot remit it”--“only pay largely, and the greatest crime shall be forgiven!” “Even repentance is not indispensable.”

Having thus set forth the tempting qualities of his merchandise, he would appeal to the feelings of his auditors: he would draw terrible pictures of the torments of purgatory, to which they were all exposed, and bright ones of the bliss of the heaven they could so easily purchase; he painted the torments of those already in the fires of hell, and appealed to friends around, to know if they would not buy an indulgence for them--for they could even reach such as had already entered into judgment. “Yes,” said he, “the very moment that the money clinks against the bottom of the chest, the soul escapes from purgatory, and flies free to Heaven!”

Thus every art and device was adopted, to cheat the people into the purchase of these impious, corrupting and fraudulent papers. At the present day, it would be matter of course, that such practices would be punished by confinement in the state’s prison; but at that period, under the high sanction of the church, the fraud was not detected by the mass, and multitudes readily availed themselves of the opportunity to appease their consciences for past crimes, and to fortify themselves in impunity for future iniquity. It is scarcely possible to conceive of the state of darkness into which the minds of men had sunk, at this period. Was it not necessary, that reformation should be wrought in that church, which had brought mankind to this condition?

The people flocked in crowds to Tetzel and his coadjutors. Men and women, the young and the old, the poor, and even beggars, came--and with money too--for such was the eagerness to possess the proffered blessings, that all would in some way obtain the means. Close by the cross, and in the church, the seller had a counter, where he received his money and delivered the indulgences. Confession was administered to the purchaser, but this was a mere form; it was not insisted that penitence must be a condition of pardon. Kings, queens, princes, archbishops and bishops, were to pay twenty-five ducats; abbots, counts, barons, &c., ten ducats. Thus the prices were graduated to the condition of the purchaser; and indeed, special bargains were made suited to the ability of the applicant, and the nature of the sins he wished to expiate.[A]

Although the mass of the people believed in the efficacy of indulgences, and the propriety of their sale, there were many who condemned the whole traffic as a cheat. Among these was a gentleman of Saxony, who heard Tetzel at Leipsic, and was much shocked at the imposture. He went to the church, and asked him if he was authorized to pardon sins of intention--or such as he intended to commit? Tetzel replied in the affirmative, and after some chaffing, the gentleman paid thirty crowns for an indulgence, by which he was to be forgiven for beating one against whom he had a grudge.

Soon after this Tetzel set out from Leipsic, and this Saxon gentleman, overtaking him in the forests of Jutterbock, gave him a severe drubbing, and carried off the box in which he had his treasures. Tetzel raised a great clamor for this act of violence, and brought an action before the judges of the district against the perpetrator. The latter, however, pleaded the indulgence, and was fully acquitted.

Luther, at this time, was professor of Theology at Wittenberg, and he soon had an opportunity of seeing the effects of Tetzel’s operations. Upon some persons under his spiritual charge, he enjoined penance; but they refused to submit to this, declaring that they had been released from every penalty by Tetzel. Luther having denied them absolution, because they would not submit to the prescribed penance, some of them went to Tetzel, and made complaints of Luther. Upon this, the former threatened with punishment, here and hereafter, all those who should deny the efficiency of his indulgences.

(To be continued.)

FOOTNOTE:

[A] The following is a copy of an indulgence, in the common form.

“Our Lord Jesus Christ have mercy on thee, N. N., and absolve thee by the merits of his most holy sufferings! And I, in virtue of the apostolic power committed to me, absolve thee from all ecclesiastical censures, judgments and penalties that thou mayest have merited; and further, from all excesses, sins, and crimes, that thou mayest have committed, however great and enormous they may be, and of whatever kind,--even though they should be reserved to our holy father the Pope, and to the Apostolic See. I efface all the stains of weakness, and all traces of the shame that thou mayest have drawn upon thyself by such actions. I remit the pains that thou wouldst have had to endure in purgatory. I receive thee again to the sacraments of the church. I hereby reincorporate thee in the communion of the saints, and restore thee to the innocence and purity of thy baptism; so that, at the moment of death, the gate of the place of torment shall be shut against thee, and the gate of the paradise of joy shall be opened unto thee. And if thou shouldst live long, this grace continueth unchangeable, till the time of thy end.

“In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

“The brother, John Tetzel, commissary, hath signed this with his own hand.”

The Two Red Cents.

A grocer in Clinton county sold a drunkard a pint of new rum _according to law_, and made _two red cents clear profit_. The drunkard shot his son-in-law while intoxicated; and his apprehension, confinement in jail, execution, &c. cost the county more than _one thousand dollars_--which temperate men had to earn by the sweat of their brows! What say tax-payers? Are you willing to pay a thousand dollars to enable the grog-seller to make _two red cents_?

But this case is comparatively nothing when contrasted with a recent transaction about the 1st of July, 1843. An Indian, one of those half-civilized, rum-loving creatures who abound in the West, stepped out of Cataraugus county into the State of Pennsylvania, where, it seems, men are sold indulgences to sin, as well as in the Empire State; and then filled his pocket-bottle with real “Red-eye,” and the seller of the poison made _two red cents_ clear profit again. While under its maddening influence, he went into a farmer’s house near by with whom he was totally unacquainted, and murdered a mother and five children;--all that comprised the little family, except the husband and father, who was from home. When he returned to his little interesting family what a sight met his eyes!--enough, it would seem, to curdle his blood, and change the man to stone. There lay the mother and her five little ones--from ten years of age down to infancy, stretched upon the floor--swimming in blood, _and all dead_! Oh! what desolation was there!

“No more for him the blazing hearth shall burn, Or busy housewife ply her evening care; No children run to lisp their sire’s return, And climb his knee, the envied kiss to share.”

* * * * *

Misgive, that you may not mistake.

[Illustration: Charlotte Corday]

Charlotte Corday.

There are few incidents of the French Revolution more intensely interesting than those which relate to Charlotte Corday. Paris was the scene of the most violent commotions that have ever been witnessed in civilized society. All France was agitated with the strife of parties that wrestled with each other in the capital. The hearts of men seemed to be filled with frenzy. The common bonds of society were rent asunder; new and strange ideas took possession of the minds of the people. In the midst of this excitement, and wrought up by the fever of the time, to a design beyond her sex, Charlotte Corday appeared upon the theatre of action, and arrested even the attention of the maddened populace of Paris, by her heroic self-devotion.

The triumph of the Jacobins over the rival Girondists in May, 1793, rendered their power uncontrollable. Marat was treated with more honor and respect than any individual since the revolution, and exerted a sway in the Convention and the clubs more absolute than was ever before known in bodies styled deliberative. In fact, they submitted to all his whims and caprices, and seemed to derive to themselves honor from the submission. His extravagances were more bearable from the obvious certainty that the wretch was hastening to the grave, and that nothing could save him. His constitution was never good, and at this time, he was preyed upon by a leprous complaint; which adding its ravages to his natural deformity and habitual want of personal cleanliness, rendered him a most disgusting object. But this man of blood was not destined to end his days by disease.

Of the Girondists, some were arrested and executed, others succeeded in escaping, and were outlawed. Of this latter class, a number, among them Barbaroux, he whose beauty of person and energy of mind could move the heart of the philosophic Madame Roland, had taken refuge at Caen. They held daily meetings at the town-hall, and thither frequently came Charlotte Corday, a young lady of stately figure, with an open and intelligent countenance, and about twenty-five years of age. Her deportment was modest; she was of studious and meditative habits, and was a republican before the revolution. In her visits to the town-hall, she was always attended by a servant, and her inquiry was for Barbaroux, with whom she had been long acquainted, and with whom she pretended to have business. She now heard much of the atrocities of the Terrorists; of the ferocity of Marat, who held in his hands the destiny of her country, and what was as much to her, the fate of Barbaroux. Patriotism and love both prompted her to the commission of an act, by which, at the sacrifice of her own life, she should be the savior both of her country and her friend.

A nun of Caen was desirous to obtain some family papers which were in the office of the Minister of the Interior at Paris. Charlotte offered to proceed thither to procure them, and was furnished by Barbaroux, with a letter of introduction to his friend Dupenet, who would aid her in procuring them.

On the 9th of July we find her seated in the diligence, and the details of her journey are thus given in a letter to Barbaroux.

“You requested an account of my journey, and I will not excuse you from the slightest anecdotes. I travelled with good mountaineers, whom I suffered to talk as much as they pleased, and their discourse, which was as absurd as their persons were disagreeable, contributed not a little to lull me to sleep. I was not perfectly awake till I arrived at Paris. One of my fellow travellers, who is, undoubtedly an admirer of sleepy women, took me for the daughter of one of his old friends, supposed me possessed of a fortune which I have not, gave me a name which I never heard, and, in conclusion, offered me his hand and fortune. When I was tired of his conversation, I said, ‘We are admirable comedians, what a pity that, with such talents, we have no spectators; I will go and fetch our fellow-travellers, that they may have their share of the amusement.’ I left him in a very ill humor; all night he sung plaintive songs, excellent procreatives of sleep. At length I parted with him at Paris, refusing to give him my address, or that of my father, of whom he wished to ask me in marriage.”

She delivered her letter to Dupenet, and the ostensible object of her journey was accomplished. But she said nothing of returning. She visited the Convention. Marat was not there, he was confined to his house by sickness. She proceeded thither, but was refused admittance.

She returned to her inn, and despatched a note, telling him that she was from Caen, the seat of rebellion; that she desired earnestly to see him, and would put it in his power to do France a great service. She received no answer. She wrote another note still more pressing, and carried it herself to the door. He was just leaving his bath, but her business was urgent, and she was admitted to his presence. “I am from Caen,” said she, “and wished to speak with you.” “Be seated, my child. What are the traitors doing at Caen? What deputies are at Caen?” He took out his tablets, and wrote down the names as Charlotte gave them,--“Louvet, Petion, Barbaroux; I will have them all guillotined at Paris within a fortnight.” “Then you shall precede them,” exclaimed Charlotte, and plunged a dagger through his heart.

She was at once seized and committed to prison. We will again quote from her letter to Barbaroux. “I expected to have been instantly put to death, but some men, truly courageous, preserved me from the excusable rage of those I had rendered unhappy. As I really preserved my presence of mind, I felt hurt at the exclamations of some women, but those who save their country think nothing of the cost. May peace be established as soon as I wish it! For these two days I have enjoyed a delicious state of mental repose. The happiness of my country constitutes mine; there is no act of self-devotion which does not overpay in pleasure, the pain of resolving to adopt it. I never hated but one single being, and I have demonstrated how violent that hatred was. But there are thousands whom I love with more warmth than I hated him. A lively imagination and a feeling heart promise but a stormy life; I beg those who may regret my fate to think of this, and they will rejoice at seeing me enjoy repose in the Elysian fields with Brutus and a few of the ancients. As for the moderns, there are few real patriots, who know how to die for their country; they are almost all selfish. What a people to form a republic! I am exceedingly well accommodated in my prison; the jailors are the best kind of people in the world; to keep away _ennui_ they have placed soldiers in my room. I have no objection to make to this by day, but by night it is not so pleasant. I have complained of the indecency, but no one has thought fit to attend to my remonstrance.... My trial comes on to-morrow at eight; probably at noon, according to the Roman phrase, _I shall have lived_. I cannot say how I shall encounter my last moments; I have no need to affect insensibility, for I never yet knew the fear of death, and never loved life but in proportion to its possible utility.”