em that liberty which was
theirs by right. Unhappily, however, men are too fond of attempting to
right themselves rather than trust to God. While, as has been said,
this desire for civil liberty was extending, so also was the Reformation
making great progress. Many abandoned popery without embracing the
gospel, and these were the people especially who desired to right
themselves by the sword. Scarcely had old Moretz returned to his hut,
than he was visited by several of the peasants, small farmers and
others, who came to urge him to join the band they were forming in the
neighbourhood. His imprisonment and its cause had become known, as had
also the way he had escaped. Among others, greatly to his surprise, his
old enemy, Johann Herder, rode up to his door.
"We were foes once, but I wish to be your foe no longer, and I have come
to invite you to join our noble cause."
"I am thankful to see you, Master Herder," said Moretz, "but I cannot
promise to join any cause without knowing its objects."
"They are very simple," answered his guest. "We consider that all men
are equal. We wish to right ourselves, and to deprive our tyrants of
their power."
"But if they refuse to agree to your demands, how then will you
proceed?" asked Moretz.
"We will burn their castles and their towns, and put them to death," was
the answer.
"That surely is not the way to induce people to act rightly," answered
Moretz. "The Bible nowhere says that we should not be soldiers, but the
gospel does say very clearly that we should do violence to no man--that
we should love our enemies and do good to them that persecute us.
Burning houses and putting people to death is not in accordance with the
will of God: of that I am sure."
"But the gospel gives us freedom, and we have accepted the gospel, and
therefore have a right to liberty," answered Herder.
"The liberty of which the gospel speaks is very different from that
which you desire, my friend," said Moretz. "The freedom which that
gives us is freedom from superstition, from the tyranny of Satan, from
the fear of man, from the dread of the misfortunes and sufferings to
which people are liable. No, friend Herder, I cannot join you."
Much more was said on both sides. Moretz remained firm; and Herder went
away, indignant that one to whom he had offered to be reconciled--very
much against his own feelings--should have refused to join what, in his
smaller knowledge of the gospel p
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