Chapter 11 : Protest of the Princes


One of the noblest testimonies ever uttered for the Reformation,
was the Protest offered by the Christian princes of Germany at the
Diet of Spires in 1529. The courage, faith, and firmness of those
men of God, gained for succeeding ages liberty of thought and of
conscience. Their Protest gave to the reformed church the name of
Protestant; its principles are the very essence of Protestantism.
A dark and threatening day had come for the Reformation.

Notwithstanding the edict of Worms, declaring Luther to be an outlaw,
and forbidding the teaching or belief of his doctrines, religious
toleration had thus far prevailed in the empire. God’s providence
had held in check the forces that opposed the truth. Charles V. was
bent on crushing the Reformation, but often as he raised his hand to
strike, he had been forced to turn aside the blow. Again and again
the immediate destruction of all who dared to oppose themselves
to Rome appeared inevitable; but at the critical moment the armies
of the Turk appeared on the eastern frontier, or the king of France,

or even the pope himself, jealous of the increasing greatness of the
emperor, made war upon him; and thus, amid the strife and tumult
of nations, the Reformation had been left to strengthen and extend.
At last, however, the papal sovereigns had stifled their feuds, that
they might make common cause against the reformers. The Diet of
Spires in 1526 had given each State full liberty in matters of religion
until the meeting of a general council; but no sooner had the dangers
passed which secured this concession, than the emperor summoned a
second Diet to convene at Spires in 1529 for the purpose of crushing [198]

heresy. The princes were to be induced, by peaceable means if
possible, to side against the Reformation; but if these failed, Charles
was prepared to resort to the sword.
The papists were exultant. They appeared at Spires in great
numbers, and openly manifested their hostility toward the reformers
and all who favored them. Said Melancthon, “We are the execration
and the sweepings of the earth; but Christ will look down on

his poor people, and will preserve them.” The evangelical princes
in attendance at the Diet were forbidden even to have the gospel
preached in their dwellings. But the people of Spires thirsted for
the Word of God, and, notwithstanding the prohibition, thousands
flocked to the services held in the chapel of the Elector of Saxony.
This hastened the crisis. And imperial message announced to the
Diet that as the resolution granting liberty of conscience had given
rise to great disorders, the emperor required that it be annulled. This
arbitrary act excited the indignation and alarm of the evangelical
Christians. Said one, “Christ has again fallen into the hands of Caiaphas
and Pilate.” The Romanists became more violent. A bigoted

papist declared, “The Turks are better than the Lutherans; for the
Turks observe fast-days, and the Lutherans violate them. If we must
choose between the Holy Scriptures of God and the old errors of the
church, we should reject the former.” Said Melancthon, “Every day,
in full assembly, Faber casts some new stone against the Gospellers.”
Religious toleration had been legally established, and the evangelical
States were resolved to oppose the infringement of their

rights. Luther, being still under the ban imposed by the edict of
Worms, was not permitted to be present at Spires; but his place was
supplied by his co-laborers and the princes whom God had raised
up to defend his cause in this emergency. The noble Frederick of
Saxony, Luther’s former protector, had been removed by death; but
[199] Duke John, his brother and successor, had joyfully welcomed the
Reformation, and while a friend of peace, he displayed great energy
and courage in all matters relating to the interests of the faith.

The priests demanded that the States which had accepted the
Reformation submit implicitly to Romish jurisdiction. The reformers,
on the other hand, claimed the liberty which had previously
been granted. They could not consent that Rome should again bring
under her control those States that had with so great joy received the
Word of God.
As a compromise it was finally proposed that where the Reformation
had not become established, the edict of Worms should be
rigorously enforced; and that in the evangelical States, where there
would be danger of revolt, no new reform should be introduced,
there should be no preaching upon disputed points, the celebration
of the mass should not be opposed, and no Roman Catholic should

be permitted to embrace Lutheranism. This measure passed the Diet,
to the great satisfaction of the popish priests and prelates.
If this edict were enforced, the Reformation could neither be
extended where as yet it had not reached, nor be established on a
firm foundation where it already existed. Liberty of speech would
be prohibited. No conversions would be allowed. And to these
restrictions and prohibitions the friends of the Reformation were
required at once to submit. The hopes of the world seemed about to
be extinguished. The re-establishment of the papal worship would
inevitably cause a revival of the ancient abuses; and an occasion
would readily be found for completing the destruction of a work that
had already been shaken by fanaticism and dissension.

As the evangelical party met for consultation, one looked to
another in blank dismay. From one to another passed the inquiry,
“What is to be done?” Mighty issues for the world were at stake.
“Should the chiefs of the Reformation submit, and accept the edict?
How easily might the reformers at this crisis, which was truly a
tremendous one, have argued themselves into a wrong course! How [200]

many plausible pretexts and fair reasons might they have found for
submission! The Lutheran princes were guaranteed the free exercise
of their religion. The same boon was extended to all those of their
subjects who, prior to the passing of the measure, had embraced the
reformed views. Ought not this to content them? How many perils
would submission avoid! On what unknown hazards and conflicts
would opposition launch them! Who knows what opportunities the
future may bring? Let us embrace peace; let us seize the olive-branch
Rome holds out, and close the wounds of Germany. With arguments
like these might the reformers have justified their adoption of a
course which would have assuredly issued in no long time in the
overthrow of their cause.

“Happily they looked at the principle on which this arrangement
was based, and they acted in faith. What was that principle?—It was
the right of Rome to coerce conscience and forbid free inquiry. But
were not themselves and their Protestant subjects to enjoy religious
freedom?—Yes, as a favor, specially stipulated for in the arrangement,
but not as a right. As to all outside that arrangement, the
great principle of authority was to rule; conscience was out of court,
Rome was infallible judge, and must be obeyed. The acceptance of

the proposed arrangement would have been a virtual admission that
religious liberty ought to be confined to reformed Saxony; and as to
all the rest of Christendom, free inquiry and the profession of the reformed
faith were crimes, and must be visited with the dungeon and
the stake. Could they consent to localize religious liberty? to have
it proclaimed that the Reformation had made its last convert, had
subjugated its last acre? and that wherever Rome bore sway at this

hour, there her dominion was to be perpetuated? Could the reformers
have pleaded that they were innocent of the blood of those hundreds
and thousands who, in pursuance of this arrangement, would have to
[201] yield up their lives in popish lands? This would have been to betray
at that supreme hour, the cause of the gospel, and the liberties of
Christendom.” Rather would they sacrifice their dominions, their
titles, and their own lives.

“Let us reject this decree,” said the princes. “In matters of
conscience the majority has no power.” The deputies declared that
Germany was indebted to the decree of toleration for the peace which
she enjoyed, and that its abolition would fill the empire with troubles
and divisions. “The Diet is incompetent,” said they, “to do more
than preserve religious liberty until a council meets.” To protect
liberty of conscience is the duty of the State, and this is the limit
of its authority in matters of religion. Every secular government
that attempts to regulate or enforce religious observances by civil
authority is sacrificing the very principle for which the evangelical
Christians so nobly struggled.

The papists determined to put down what they termed daring
obstinacy. They began by endeavoring to cause divisions among
the supporters of the Reformation, and to intimidate all who had
not openly declared in its favor. The representatives of the free
cities were at last summoned before the Diet, and required to declare
whether they would accede to the terms of the proposition. They
pleaded for delay, but in vain. When brought to the test, nearly
one-half their number sided with the reformers. Those who thus
refused to sacrifice liberty of conscience and the right of individual
judgment well knew that their position marked them for future criticism,
condemnation, and persecution. Said one of the delegates,
“We must either deny the Word of God or—be burned.”

King Ferdinand, the emperor’s representative at the Diet, saw
that the decree would cause serious divisions unless the princes
could be induced to accept and sustain it. He therefore tried the art
of persuasion, well knowing that to employ force with such men
would only render them the more determined. He begged them to
accept the decree, assuring them that such an act would be highly [202]
gratifying to the emperor. But these faithful men acknowledged an
authority above that of earthly rulers, and they answered calmly, “We
will obey the emperor in everything that may contribute to maintain
peace and the honor of God.”

In the presence of the Diet, the king at last announced that the
decree was about to be published as an imperial edict, and that
the only course remaining for the elector and his friends was to
submit to the majority. Having thus spoken, he withdrew from the
assembly, giving the reformers no opportunity for deliberation or
reply. In vain they sent messengers entreating him to return. To their
remonstrances he answered only, “It is a settled affair; submission is
all that remains.”

The imperial party were convinced that the Christian princes
would adhere to the Holy Scriptures as superior to human doctrines
and requirements; and they knew that wherever this principle was
accepted, the papacy would eventually be overthrown. But, like
thousands since their time, looking only “at the things which are
seen,” they flattered themselves that the cause of the emperor and
the pope was strong, and that of the reformers weak. Had the reformers
depended upon human aid alone, they would have been as
powerless as the papists supposed. But though weak in numbers,
and at variance with Rome, they had their strength. They appealed
from the decision of the Diet to the Scriptures of truth, and from the
emperor of Germany to the King of Heaven and earth.

As Ferdinand had refused to regard their conscientious convictions,
the princes decided not to heed his absence, but to bring
their Protest before the national council without delay. A solemn
declaration was therefore drawn up, and presented to the Diet:—
“We protest by these presents, before God, our only Creator,
Preserver, Redeemer, and Saviour, and who will one day be our
Judge, as well as before all men and all creatures, that we, for us and [203]
our people, neither consent nor adhere in any manner whatever to

the proposed decree in anything that is contrary to God, to his Word,
to our right conscience, or to the salvation of our souls.... We cannot
assert that when Almighty God calls a man to his knowledge, he
dare not embrace that divine knowledge.... There is no true doctrine
but that which conforms to the Word of God. The Lord forbids
the teaching of any other faith. The Holy Scriptures, with one text
explained by other and plainer texts, are, in all things necessary for
the Christian, easy to be understood, and adapted to enlighten. We
are therefore resolved by divine grace to maintain the pure preaching
of God’s only Word, as it is contained in the scriptures of the Old
and New Testaments, without anything added thereto. This word

is the only truth. It is the sure rule of all doctrine and life, and can
never fail or deceive us. He who builds on this foundation shall
stand against all the powers of hell, whilst all the vanities that are
set up against it shall fall before the face of God.” “We therefore
reject the yoke that is imposed upon us.” “At the same time we are
in expectation that his imperial majesty will behave toward us like
a Christian prince who loves God above all things; and we declare
ourselves ready to pay unto him, as well as unto you, gracious lords,
all the affection and obedience that are our just and legitimate duty.”
A deep impression was made upon the Diet. The majority were
filled with amazement and alarm at the boldness of the protesters.

The future appeared to them stormy and uncertain. Dissension, strife,
and bloodshed seemed inevitable. But the reformers, assured of the
justice of their cause, and relying upon the arm of Omnipotence,
were full of courage and firmness.
The Protest denied the right of civil rulers to legislate in matters
between the soul and God, and declared with prophets and apostles,
“We ought to obey God rather than men.” It rejected also the arbitrary
[204] power of the church, and set forth the unerring principle that all
human teaching should be in subjection to the oracles of God. The
protesters had thrown off the yoke of man’s supremacy, and had
exalted Christ as supreme in the church, and his Word in the pulpit.
The power of conscience was set above the State, and the authority
of the Holy Scriptures above the visible church. The crown of
Christ was uplifted above the pope’s tiara and the emperor’s diadem.
The protesters had moreover affirmed their right to freely utter their
convictions of truth. They would not only believe and obey, but

teach what the Word of God presents, and they denied the right of
priest or magistrate to interfere. The Protest of Spires was a solemn
witness against religious intolerance, and an assertion of the right
of all men to worship God according to the dictates of their own
consciences.

The declaration had been made. It was written in the memory of
thousands, and registered in the books of Heaven, where no effort of
man could erase it. All evangelical Germany adopted the Protest as
the expression of its faith. Everywhere men beheld in this declaration
the promise of a new and better era. Said one of the princes to the
Protestants of Spires, “May the Almighty, who has given you grace
to confess energetically, freely, and fearlessly; preserve you in that
Christian firmness until the day of eternity.”

Had the Reformation, after attaining a degree of success, consented
to temporize to secure favor with the world, it would have
been untrue to God and to itself, and would thus have insured its
own destruction. The experience of those noble reformers contains
a lesson for all succeeding ages. Satan’s manner of working against
God and hisWord has not changed; he is still as much opposed to the
Scriptures being made the guide of life as in the sixteenth century. In
our time there is a wide departure from their doctrines and precepts,
and there is need of a return to the great Protestant principle,—the
Bible, and the Bible only, as the rule of faith and duty. Satan is
still working through every means which he can control to destroy [205]
religious liberty. The antichristian power which the protesters of
Spires rejected, is now with renewed vigor seeking to re-establish
its lost supremacy. The same unswerving adherence to the Word of
God manifested at that crisis of the Reformation, is the only hope of
reform today.

There appeared tokens of danger to the Protestants. There were
tokens, also, that the divine hand was stretched out to protect the
faithful. It was about this time that Melancthon hurried his friend
Grynaeus through the streets of Spires to the Rhine, and urged him
to cross the river without delay. Grynaeus, in astonishment, desired
to know the reason for this sudden flight. Said Melancthon, “An
old man of grave and solemn aspect, but who is unknown to me,
appeared before me, and said, ‘In a minute the officers of justice
will be sent by Ferdinand to arrest Grynaeus.’” On the banks of the

Rhine, Melancthon waited until the waters of that stream interposed
between his beloved friend and those who sought his life. When he
saw him on the other side at last, he said, “He is torn from the cruel
jaws of those who thirst for innocent blood.”

Grynaeus had been on intimate terms with a leading papist doctor;
but, having been shocked at one of his sermons, he went to him,
and entreated that he would no longer war against the truth. The
papist concealed his anger, but immediately repaired to the king, and
obtained from him authority to arrest the protester. When Melancthon
returned to his house, he was informed that after his departure
officers in pursuit of Grynaeus had searched it from top to bottom.
He ever believed that the Lord had saved his friend by sending a
holy angel to give him warning.

The Reformation was to be brought into greater prominence
before the mighty ones of the earth. The evangelical princes had
been denied a hearing by King Ferdinand; but they were to be
granted an opportunity to present their cause in the presence of the
[206] emperor and the assembled dignitaries of Church and State. To quiet
the dissensions which disturbed the empire, Charles V., in the year
following the Protest of Spires, convoked a Diet at Augsburg, over
which he announced his intention to preside in person. Thither the
Protestant leaders were summoned.

Great dangers threatened the Reformation; but its advocates still
trusted their cause with God, and pledged themselves to be firm to
the gospel. The Elector of Saxony was urged by his councillors not to
appear at the Diet. The emperor, they said, required the attendance
of the princes in order to draw them into a snare. “Was it not
risking everything to shut oneself up within the walls of a city with a
powerful enemy?” But others nobly declared. “Let the princes only
comport themselves with courage, and God’s cause is saved.” “Our
God is faithful; he will not abandon us,” said Luther. The elector
set out, with his retinue, for Augsburg. All were acquainted with
the dangers that menaced him, and many went forward with gloomy
countenance and troubled heart. But Luther—who accompanied
them as far as Coburg—revived their sinking faith by singing the
hymn, written on that journey,—“A strong tower is our God.” Many
an anxious foreboding was banished, many a heavy heart lightened,
at the sound of the inspiring strains.

The reformed princes had determined upon having a statement
of their views in systematic form, with the evidence from the Scriptures,
to present before the Diet; and the task of its preparation was
committed to Luther, Melancthon, and their associates. This Confession
was accepted by the Protestants as an exposition of their faith,
and they assembled to affix their names to the important document.
It was a solemn and trying time. The reformers were solicitous that
their cause should not be confounded with political questions; they
felt that the Reformation should exercise no other influence than that
which proceeds from the Word of God. As the Christian princes
advanced to sign the Confession, Melancthon interposed, saying, “It [207]

is for the theologians and ministers to propose these things, while
the authority of the mighty ones of earth is to be reserved for other
matters.” “God forbid,” replied John of Saxony, “that you should
exclude me. I am resolved to do my duty, without being troubled
about my crown. I desire to confess the Lord. My electoral hat and
robes are not so precious to me as the cross of Jesus Christ.” Having
thus spoken he wrote down his name. Said another of the princes as
he took the pen, “If the honor of my Lord Jesus Christ requires it, I
am ready to leave my goods and life behind me.” “Rather would I
renounce my subjects and my States, rather would I quit the country
of my fathers, staff in hand,” he continued, “than to receive any other
doctrine than is contained in this Confession.” Such was the faith
and daring of those men of God.

The appointed time came to appear before the emperor. Charles
V., seated upon his throne, surrounded by the electors and the princes,
gave audience to the Protestant reformers. The confession of their
faith was read. In that august assembly the truths of the gospel were
clearly set forth, and the errors of the papal church were pointed out.
Well has that day been pronounced “the greatest day of the Reformation,
and one of the most glorious in the history of Christianity
and of the world.”

But a few years had passed since the monk of Wittenberg stood
alone at Worms before the national council. Now in his stead were
the noblest and most powerful princes of the empire. Luther had
been forbidden to appear at Augsburg, but he had been present by
his words and prayers. “I thrill with joy,” he wrote, “that I have
lived until this hour, in which Christ has been publicly exalted by

such illustrious confessors, and in so glorious an assembly. Herein
is fulfilled what the Scripture saith, ‘I will declare thy testimony in
the presence of kings.’”
In the days of Paul, the gospel for which he was imprisoned
[208] was thus brought before the princes and nobles of the imperial city.
So on this occasion, “that which the emperor had forbidden to be
preached from the pulpit, was proclaimed in the palace; what many
had regarded as unfit even for servants to listen to, was heard with
wonder by the masters and lords of the empire. Kings and great
men were the auditory, crowned princes were the preachers, and the
sermon was the royal truth of God.” “Since the apostolic age,” says
a writer,“there has never been a greater work, or a more magnificent
confession of Jesus Christ.”

“All that the Lutherans have said is true, and we cannot deny it,”
declared a papist bishop. “Can you by sound reasons refute the Confession
made by the elector and his allies?” asked another, of Doctor
Eck. “Not with the writings of the apostles and prophets,” was the
reply; “but with the Fathers and councils I can.” “I understand, then,”
responded the questioner, “that the Lutherans are entrenched in the
Scriptures, and we are only outside.” Some of the princes of Germany
were won to the reformed faith. The emperor himself declared
that the Protestant articles were but the truth. The Confession was
translated into many languages, and circulated through all Europe,
and it has been accepted by millions in succeeding generations as
the expression of their faith.

God’s faithful servants were not toiling alone. While “principalities
and powers and wicked spirits in high places” were leagued
against them, the Lord did not forsake his people. Could their eyes
have been opened, they would have seen as marked evidence of
divine presence and aid as was granted to a prophet of old. When
Elisha’s servant pointed his master to the hostile army surrounding
them, and cutting off all opportunity for escape, the prophet prayed,
“Lord, I pray thee, open his eyes, that he may see.” [2 Kings 6:17.]
And, lo, the mountain was filled with chariots and horses of fire,
the army of Heaven stationed to protect the man of God. Thus did
angels guard the workers in the cause of the Reformation.
[209] One of the principles most firmly maintained by Luther was
that there should be no resort to secular power in support of the

Reformation, and no appeal to arms for its defense. He rejoiced that
the gospel was confessed by princes of the empire; but when they
proposed to unite in a defensive league, he declared that “the doctrine
of the gospel should be defended by God alone. The less men meddle
in the work, the more striking would be God’s intervention in its
behalf. All the political precautions suggested were, in his view,
attributable to unworthy fear and sinful mistrust.”

When powerful foes were uniting to overthrow the reformed
faith, and thousands of swords seemed about to be unsheathed
against it, Luther wrote: “Satan is raging; ungodly priests take
counsel together, and we are threatened with war. Exhort the people
to contend earnestly before the throne of the Lord, by faith and
prayer, that our adversaries, being overcome by the Spirit of God,
may be constrained to peace. The most urgent of our wants—the
very first thing we have to do, is to pray; let the people know that
they are at this hour exposed to the edge of the sword and the rage
of the devil; let them pray.”

Again, at a later date, referring to the league contemplated by the
reformed princes, he declared that the only weapon employed in this
warfare should be “the sword of the Spirit.” He wrote to the Elector
of Saxony: “We cannot in our conscience approve of the proposed
alliance. Our Lord Christ is mighty enough, and can well find ways
and means to rescue us from danger, and bring the thoughts of the
ungodly princes to nothing.... Christ is only trying us whether we
are willing to obey his word or no, and whether we hold it for certain
truth or not. We would rather die ten times over than that the gospel
should be a cause of blood or hurt by any act of ours. Let us rather
patiently suffer, and, as the psalmist says, be accounted as sheep
for the slaughter; and instead of avenging or defending ourselves,
leave room for God’s wrath.” “The cross of Christ must be borne. [210]

Let your highness be without fear. We shall do more by our prayers
than all our enemies by their boastings. Only let not your hands be
stained with the blood of your brethren. If the emperor requires us
to be given up to his tribunals, we are ready to appear. You cannot
defend the faith; each one should believe at his own risk and peril.”
From the secret place of prayer came the power that shook the
world in the Great Reformation. There, with holy calmness, the
servants of the Lord set their feet upon the rock of his promises.

During the struggle at Augsburg, Luther did not fail to devote three
hours each day to prayer; and these were taken from that portion of
the day most favorable to study. In the privacy of his chamber he was
heard to pour out his soul before God in words full of adoration, fear,
and hope, as if speaking to a friend. “I know that thou art our Father
and our God,” he said, “and that thou wilt scatter the persecutors
of thy children; for thou art thyself endangered with us. All this
matter is thine, and it is only by thy constraint that we have put our
hands to it. Defend us, then, O Father!” To Melancthon, who was
crushed under the burden of anxiety and fear, he wrote: “Grace and
peace in Christ! In Christ, I say, and not in the world, Amen! I hate
with exceeding hatred those extreme cares which consume you. If
the cause is unjust, abandon it; if the cause is just, why should we
belie the promises of Him who commands us to sleep without fear?”
“Christ will not be wanting to the work of justice and truth. He lives,
he reigns; what fear, then, can we have?”

God did listen to the cries of his servants. He gave to princes and
ministers grace and courage to maintain the truth against the rulers
of the darkness of this world. Saith the Lord, “Behold, I lay in Zion
a chief cornerstore, elect, precious, and he that believeth on him
shall not be confounded.” [1 Peter 2:6.] The Protestant reformers
had built on Christ, and the gates of hell could not prevail against
them.