"thank-offerings" were received. He does not say which desk the
applicant approached first. But, supposing he obtained the letter first
and then, with a heart bounding with joy and gratitude, hurried to the
other desk, we have an interesting psychological problem confronting us.
The two acts, the delivery of the letter of indulgence and the
surrendering of the thank-offering, we are told, are independent the one
of the other. Both are free acts, the one the free forgiveness of the
Church, the other the free giving of the pardoned. The Church's grant of
pardon has nothing to do with the payment of indulgence-money, and the
indulgence-money is not related to the letter of indulgence. Now, then,
the purchaser of an indulgence performs this remarkable feat: when he
stands at the desk where the letter is handed to him, he does not think
of any cost that he incurs. He views the letter as a pure gift. Then,
obeying a sudden impulse of gratitude, he turns to the other desk and
hands the official some money. He manages to think that he is not paying
for anything, that would be utterly improper. How could a person pay for
a donation, especially such a donation of spiritual and heavenly
treasures? One disturbing element, however, remains: the amount of the
thank-offering was fixed beforehand for particular sins, probably to
regulate the recipient's gratitude and make it adequate. The writer has
resolved to test the psychology of this process on himself the next time
the Boston Symphony Company comes to town. He will try and think of the
great singers as true benefactors of mankind, who go about the country
bestowing favors on the public, and when he comes to the ticket-window
he will merely make a thank-offering for the pleasure he is receiving.
The scheme ought to work as well in this instance as in the other.


14. The Case of Luther's Friend Myconius.