sobered. At first, in certain cases, the sudden
seriousness caused by Luther's ringing call took the form of attempted
evasion of the consequences of sin. Philip of Hesse, a big, handsome
prince into whose material nature a bit of the new leaven had fallen,
asked "Pope Luther" to let him marry a second wife while his first was
living. He did not propose to put the first away; he would provide for
both. In extenuation of this suggested bigamy he pleaded truly enough
that Christine, his spouse, was addicted to over-indulgence in strong
drink, and, also, was personally repulsive. He wished to marry Katharine
von Saal, one of the court ladies. It was a crucial moment for
Protestantism. Philip's powerful aid would perhaps save the new faith.
Long ago, Luther had twice given it as his opinion that the Scriptures
sanctioned plural marriages. The dispensation was granted. The second
marriage took place, Christine agreeing placidly. Katharine von Saal
made Philip a good wife, and the three Christine being left in
undisturbed enjoyment of her daily dram lived, it seems, harmoniously
enough.

A very different story is that of another court. Joachim, Elector of
Brandenburg, bitterly opposed the new faith, but his wife became a
convert. The latter partook of the sacrament in both kinds, and then
fearing vengeance from her angry lord and master fled from his court to
a refuge near Lotha. Her husband refused to take her back, but he
allowed her children to visit her. Carlyle, in his Frederick the Great,
tells the story.

The vexed question, Which has done more to advance the world, the
Renaissance or the Reformation? will probably never be satisfactorily
settled. At the best, 'tis rather a shallow question, born of provincial
intelligence. Without the Renaissance there could have been no
Reformation. Without the Reformation, the Renaissance, contenting itself
with past culture, would never have become the active force it is in the
world to-day. To both, the twentieth century woman owes much.

CHAPTER VIII

AN ERA OF INTELLECTUAL DESOLATION

War! War! War! From that pregnant day in 1521 when Luther, at Worms,
cried: "Here I stand, I cannot do otherwise, God help me!" Germany, for
nearly three centuries, was never, long at a time, free from bloody
strife. In some districts of the empire men and women were conceived in
time of war, born in time of war, lived to the Scripturally allotted age
of threescore years and ten in ti